Chapter Seventeen #2
Fraiser Talbot, Chloe’s stalker from Oregon, with the restraining order and the GPS ankle monitor he was supposed to be wearing. The man who’d smiled as if this was all some cosmic misunderstanding when the judge had told him to stay away from Chloe.
Kayne snapped screenshots, fingers flying. His pulse didn’t race; it went cold and focused.
So Danica hadn’t imagined it, and Chloe hadn’t been dramatic. Someone really had been watching her.
And he wasn’t bothering to hide it anymore.
Kayne grabbed his phone and headed for the door. Talbot didn’t bolt when Kayne stepped outside. Didn’t even flinch. That, more than anything, told Kayne exactly what kind of trouble they were in.
Talbot stood there with his chin lifted, eyes glittering and unhinged in a way Kayne had seen before in men who believed the world owed them something. Men who had rewritten reality so many times they believed the lie more than the truth.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Kayne said calmly as he closed the distance.
Talbot smiled. “I knew she’d replace me eventually.”
Kayne stopped an arm’s length away, close enough to punch him if necessary. “You’ve got about five seconds to explain why you’re violating a court order.”
Talbot scoffed. “Court doesn’t mean a damn thing. She’s my wife.”
There it was.
Kayne felt something feral wash over him. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but something darker and protective. Possessive and territorial in a way he didn’t bother to deny anymore.
“She’s not married to you,” Kayne said evenly. “She’s never even met you.”
Talbot’s smile faltered, then snapped back too wide. “She doesn’t remember because they messed with her head. But I was there. I protected her.”
Kayne leaned in just enough for Talbot to feel it. “You tried to run her over.”
Talbot’s eyes flashed. “No.”
“You broke into her apartment.”
“No.” His voice cracked, defensive now. “I would never hurt her.”
Kayne watched him carefully. The denial was instantaneous. Automatic. Not rehearsed but reflexive.
Interesting.
“You stalked her,” Kayne said. “Scared her. You threatened her.”
Talbot shook his head violently. “I warned her. There’s a difference. She didn’t listen to me.”
It wasn’t obsession anymore, nor romance. It was blame.
Kayne felt the pieces shift in his mind, sliding into a pattern that made his stomach sink.
“You’re angry,” Kayne said quietly. “Because she got away.”
Talbot went still.
Kayne pressed. “Because whatever you thought you were owed, whatever you decided she represented, you didn’t get it.”
Talbot’s jaw worked. “She ruined everything.”
That sealed it. This wasn’t a man trying to get a woman back. This was a man trying to make her pay.
Kayne straightened, every instinct screaming now. Then he heard the siren drawing closer. He needed to keep Talbot talking so he didn’t take off before the police arrived. “You need to leave her alone.”
Talbot laughed, the sound brittle. “You think you can stop this?”
The cruiser screeched to a stop, two officers jumping out with handcuffs ready.
Kayne’s smile was slow and humorless. “I already have.”
He stepped back as the cops cuffed Talbot and read him his Miranda rights. Talbot finally realized he was caught, uncertainty flickering through his bravado.
Good.
Because Kayne didn’t miss when the threat finally showed its hand. And whatever this had started as, it had just become personal.
#
Chloe was in the middle of pretending to reorganize the equipment receipts when Kayne walked in.
She felt him before she saw him. It was the subtle shift in the air, and how the room seemed to adjust to his presence.
Her instincts reacted before her brain caught up, a familiar, unwelcome awareness that something had gone wrong.
He didn’t have his easy half-smile on. His jaw was set, eyes focused.
It was the look he wore when something had gone sideways and stayed there.
Anja was near the office door, posture relaxed but alert in that way Chloe was starting to recognize. She took one look at Kayne’s face and straightened.
“Okay,” Anja said calmly. “Don’t tell me you’re about to ruin Chloe’s morning.”
Chloe forced a smile that didn’t quite land. “If this is about Robin not showing up, I already know. If it’s worse than that, maybe ease into it?”
Kayne’s gaze softened when it met hers, but his voice stayed steady. “I caught someone watching the gym.”
Her stomach dipped. “Watching it, how exactly?”
“From across the street. Long enough that it wasn’t an accident.”
Anja’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
Kayne didn’t hesitate. “Fraiser Talbot.”
The name hit like a physical blow.
Chloe’s breath stalled, then rushed out all at once. “He’s not supposed to be anywhere near here.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be,” Kayne agreed. “Which is why the police took him away about fifteen minutes ago.”
Anja let out a low whistle. “Again?”
“Again,” Kayne confirmed. “Restraining order violation. GPS issues. The usual creative excuses. He denied breaking into your apartment or trying to run you over. He insisted you’re married.”
Anja winced. “That particular flavor of delusion tends to come with a side of blame.”
“That’s what worried me,” Kayne agreed. “He’s past obsession and has veered into resentment. He thinks you ruined his life.”
Chloe hugged her arms around herself, a chill skittering across her skin that had nothing to do with the weather. “So he’s angry.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She stared at the floor for a moment, concentrating on the scuffed concrete and the faint hum of the building, then gave a weak huff of laughter. “Fantastic. Add that to the list. Stalker arrested again, manager missing in action, and Mercury still very much in retrograde.”
Kayne crouched slightly so he was in her line of sight. “You okay?”
She nodded automatically, then hesitated. “Ask me again in about ten minutes.”
Anja stepped in smoothly, voice practical. “The important part is he’s off the street for now. We’ll follow up, make sure they hold him this time.”
“For now,” Chloe echoed, hating how flimsy the words felt the second they left her mouth.
Kayne straightened, his presence solid and unmovable in front of her. “You’re not dealing with any of this alone. Not him, or staffing, or anything.”
She looked up at him, really looked, and felt that familiar mix of relief and fear twist together. It scared her how much she wanted to believe him. “I was just thinking I might have to hire Oliver Pearsall after all.”
Kayne grimaced. “Let’s treat that as a last resort.”
Chloe managed a small smile. The day was unraveling faster than she liked, but the knot in her gut loosened just a fraction. At least now she wasn’t standing in the middle of it by herself.
#
Kayne didn’t like happenstance. It made his skin itch, the same way bad intel used to before missions went sideways. He sat at the small desk in the back of Chloe’s office, construction work humming beyond the walls, and pulled up Oliver Pearsall’s file again.
He’d run a background check after Oliver left the other day, more out of instinct than cause. Kayne had wanted to know more about the man in case Chloe decided to hire him.
His employment history checked out. There were commendations in his military file. His certifications seemed legit. There was no criminal record worth flagging, no obvious restraining orders, no and red alarms screaming run.
Kayne leaned back in the chair, mouth tight.
Clean didn’t mean safe. Sometimes it meant careful, and careful men learned how to disappear in plain sight.
He’d gotten a weird vibe from Oliver from the start.
It didn’t announce itself loudly but lingered.
His instincts had whispered to watch him, so Kayne dug deeper into his address history, financials, and social media presence.
Oliver had a sparse online footprint. No strong opinions, political leanings, or personal photos.
No friends tagged in anything older than a year.
That kind of blank space was either discipline or intent.
“Don’t love him,” Kayne muttered.
The door opened behind him. He didn’t turn; he already knew who it was by the cadence of the steps.
Leo De Luca stopped at his shoulder. “Chloe says you’re doing your broody computer thing. Thought I’d check in before you punch a wall.”
Kayne exhaled slowly. “I’m reviewing Oliver Pearsall, the possible hire. Nothing actionable yet, but my instincts aren’t thrilled.”
Leo grimaced. “Chloe said the same thing, which means we listen to her gut and yours.”
“Exactly.” Kayne closed the file. “You stay here with her.”
Leo’s brows lifted. “That bad?”
“Potentially worse.” Kayne stood. “Robin not showing up isn’t sitting right with me. Anja and I are going to check it out.”
Leo didn’t argue. “I’ll keep Chloe busy. And distracted.”
Kayne nodded once. “Appreciate it.”
Anja drove. Kayne preferred it that way right now. Letting someone else handle the wheel gave him space to think, to line up facts and instincts, and to see how the pieces were starting to lean toward something darker than coincidence.
Robin’s house sat in a quiet subdivision that screamed normalcy. Her lawn was neatly trimmed and raked free of leaves. There was a porch swing with a faded blue cushion, and one potted yellow mum, starting to die from neglect. She didn’t have a garage, nor was there a car in the driveway.
Anja cut the engine, and they slid out, splitting up without discussing it. Anja checked the perimeter while Kayne went to the door. He knocked hard enough to be heard, long enough to still qualify as polite.
No answer. He tried again. Still nothing.
Anja rejoined him, expression grim. “No signs of forced entry. No neighbors out.”
Kayne tested the doorknob. Locked. The windows were intact, and nothing looked disturbed.
“She could’ve left voluntarily,” Anja said, though her tone betrayed her.