Ethan
“I know you don’t want me to go,” I said to Calder as I pulled on my jeans. “But that’s just too damn bad.”
“That monster threatened your life!” he cried back. “And you’re worried about the stupid newspaper?”
I let out a long sigh. We’d been having this conversation since the night before.
All weekend he’d been trying to convince me not to go back to work, that he would take care of everything.
But I couldn’t stand the idea of just giving up on this job I’d worked so hard to get in the first place.
I was a journalist and I loved my work. I couldn’t just give it all up because some really hot and possibly straight guy decided to fuck me.
And I definitely wasn’t going to give up because of that monster.
I still wanted to solve that mystery and I needed the paper’s resources to do it.
“I have to,” I reiterated. “I said I would cover the arts and culture section for Rosie. There’s a local coven of witches putting on a parade on Tuesday and I need to get the details.”
“Oh, you’re not going to the racial sensitivity training about black cats down at the YMCA?” Calder asked, rolling his eyes.
“Is that a real thing?”
He looked at me like I was an idiot. “No! Of course not!”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. “Between haunted mazes, pumpkin spice riots, and fundraisers for otters with lisps, I wasn’t sure.”
“Did those things actually happen?” It was Calder’s turn to look dumbfounded.
“Yep.”
“Christ…” he said, shaking head. “This town is weird as hell.”
“You got that right.” I pulled on my hoodie. “So I’m going to work.”
Calder's jaw clenched, that muscle in his cheek twitching the way it did when he was trying not to lose his temper. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."
"To my office?" I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. "What are you going to do, stand guard at my cubicle?"
"If I have to." He folded his arms across his broad chest, his stance widening as if preparing for battle. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, Ethan."
I should have been annoyed by his overprotectiveness, but something warm unfurled in my chest. No one had cared about my safety this much in a long time.
Maybe ever. "Look," I said, softening my tone, "I just need to pick up my assignments and drop off the articles I finished this weekend.
An hour, tops. Then I'll come straight back. "
Calder studied me for a long moment, those light brown eyes flecked with gold in the morning light. "One hour," he finally agreed. "And you take my bike. It's faster if you need to get away from something."
"I don't know how to ride a motorcycle."
A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "I'll drive. You hold on, pup."
Twenty minutes later, I was clinging to Calder's back as his motorcycle roared through Portland's leaf-strewn streets.
The leather of his jacket was smooth beneath my fingers, his body solid and warm despite the chill in the air.
I pressed my cheek between his shoulder blades, breathing in his leather-and-spice scent, letting it ground me.
When we pulled into the Gazette's parking lot, I reluctantly unwound myself from around him.
My legs felt wobbly as I dismounted, partly from the ride and partly from the way Calder had looked at me when he'd handed me the spare helmet, possessive, protective, hungry.
"One hour," he reminded me, killing the engine but making no move to get off the bike.
"You're not coming in?"
He shook his head. "I'll wait here. Keep an eye on things from outside."
I frowned. "It looks like it might rain again. You'll get soaked."
"I'll survive." His tone made it clear the discussion was over.
Rolling my eyes, I turned toward the building. "Suit yourself, tough guy."
The familiar buzz of the newsroom washed over me as I pushed through the glass doors.
The place was quieter than usual for a Monday morning, half the staff was probably at that seminar on digital engagement that I'd managed to wriggle out of.
I made my way to my desk, nodding at the few colleagues who glanced up from their screens.
I was halfway through downloading my new assignments when a shadow fell across my keyboard.
"Hey there, partner."
I looked up to find Jake leaning against my cubicle wall, coffee in hand and that easy smile playing at his lips. But something felt different about him today. The warmth in his brown eyes seemed forced, and there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there during our lunch last week.
"Jake," I said, saving my work and swiveling in my chair to face him. "How was your weekend?"
"Quiet," he replied, though his gaze swept over me with an intensity that made me shift uncomfortably. "You look... different. Relaxed. Good weekend?"
Heat crept up my neck as memories of Calder's hands on my body, his mouth at my throat, flashed through my mind. "Yeah, it was nice. Stayed in mostly."
"Alone?" The question came out sharper than casual conversation warranted.
I hesitated, something in his tone setting off alarm bells. "Not exactly."
Jake's smile faltered for just a moment before snapping back into place.
"Ah. The mysterious Calder, I'm guessing?
" He took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim.
"Funny thing, I was asking around about him.
Turns out nobody knows much about the guy.
No social media presence, no digital footprint to speak of.
That's unusual these days, don't you think? "
My stomach clenched. "Some people value their privacy."
"Sure," Jake agreed, but his eyes had gone cold. "Or some people have things to hide."
“Look Jake…” I said softly, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I know you feel something for me—”
“You’re right,” he cut in. “I do.” His tone was intense, but not scary. “I feel a lot of things for you, Ethan. I just wish you’d give me a chance.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, the weight of Jake's stare making me feel pinned in place. This wasn't how I'd wanted this conversation to go. "I'm seeing someone now," I said quietly. "It's... complicated, but it's real."
Something flickered across Jake's face, disappointment, irritation, maybe both, before his expression smoothed into professional detachment. "The mechanic," he said flatly. "The one who's waiting outside on his motorcycle right now."
I blinked in surprise. "How did you—"
"I saw you pull in." Jake set his coffee down on my desk with deliberate care. "Hard to miss, really. Big guy, leather jacket, staring at the building like he's expecting trouble." His eyes narrowed slightly. "What's his deal anyway? He looks like he's casing the place."
"He's just protective," I said, feeling defensive without really understanding why. "After what happened at my apartment—"
"What happened at your apartment?" Jake interrupted, leaning forward with sudden intensity.
I hesitated, mentally kicking myself. I hadn't told anyone at work about the incident, about the heart left in the parking lot.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just... thought I saw someone lurking around. Probably nothing."
Jake studied me for a long moment, his reporter's instincts clearly sensing the lie. "You sure it wasn’t him sneaking around?"
“What?!” I baulked. “Of course it wasn’t him!”
“And let me guess, you called him and he was there a little too fast, right?”
My stomach turned, twisting into a knot. “I mean… yeah, but that’s just because he was—”
“Just happened to be in the area?” Jake shook his head with a sigh. He walked over, grabbing the chair next to me and took a seat, his coffee now perched on the edge of the desk. “This is classic stalker stuff, you know that right?”
“Calder isn’t like that…”
“He’s always nearby when you need him, someone is sneaking around near your apartment, you said yourself he was protective, and he didn’t even let you come to the office alone today,” he continued, ticking off each item on his fingers. “That’s kinda suspicious, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know about suspicious. I just thought it was nice. Someone actually cares about me for once.”
“Have you seen the movie Scream?” Jake asked, his eyebrow lifted. “Because you are dangerously close to making the same mistakes Sidney did. She didn’t believe her new boyfriend was the problem either until he tried to kill her.”
"That's not—" I started, but Jake held up a hand.
"Look, I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to look out for you.
" His voice softened, taking on that concerned tone that had drawn me to him in the first place.
"You're new in town, you don't know anyone, and suddenly this guy appears in your life right when weird stuff starts happening?
Come on, Ethan. You're smarter than that. "
I wanted to argue, to defend Calder, but doubt was creeping in around the edges of my certainty.
Jake was right about some things. Calder had appeared at my apartment suspiciously fast. He was secretive about his past, his work, his friends.
And he did seem to know things about the attacks that he shouldn't. Maybe that’s because he believed in monsters like I did…
or maybe it was because of something… else.
"I should get back to work," I said, turning back to my computer screen.
Jake's hand landed on my shoulder, warm and reassuring. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? If something feels off, trust your instincts."
I nodded without looking at him. "I will."
"Good." He squeezed my shoulder gently before standing. "And Ethan? If you need anything… anything at all, you know where to find me."
After he left, I sat staring at my screen without really seeing it. Jake's words echoed in my head, mixing with my own doubts and fears. Was I being naive? Was Calder really the protector I thought he was, or was there something darker beneath that carefully controlled exterior?
My phone buzzed with a text from Calder: Everything okay? You've been in there longer than planned.
I glanced at the clock. Forty-five minutes had passed without me realizing it. I quickly gathered the files I needed and headed for the door, but Jake's voice stopped me at the elevator.
"Ethan, wait."
I turned to find him jogging toward me, his face serious.
"There's something else," he said, glancing around to make sure we weren't overheard. He reached out a hand, stopping the doors from closing. "About those cattle attacks. I've been doing some digging, and I think there might be a connection to some older cases. Cases that go back years."
My pulse quickened. "What kind of connection?"
"Missing persons. Always alone, always found with their hearts removed." Jake's brown eyes were intense, focused. "The earliest cases I can find go back to the sixties. But there was one that caught my attention from fourteen years ago. Upstate New York."
The world tilted sideways. Fourteen years ago.
"Why did it catch your attention?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“I think you know why, Ethan Murphy,” he said, stressing my last name. “And I think I know why you’re so interested in being a journalist too, why you’re so motivated to solve this mystery.”
“Please,” I said, not bothering to deny it. “Don’t tell anyone. I can’t lose my job. Not again.”
“Cross my heart,” Jake replied, making a little X over his chest. “But I get it, Ethan. I get you. Please don’t forget that.”
I nodded, not sure of what else to say. Jake stepped back, letting the elevator doors close, leaving me alone in a tiny metal box with my thoughts.
Things were getting complicated. And fast.