Chapter Thirty-Seven
EMERY
THE NEXT WEEK passes by in a blur. Reid has seemed tense each morning as we part ways for work.
When I ask if he’s grabbing a beer with the guys for happy hour, he always says no, and comes home at his regular time.
There’s been no further talk of me going back to the cottage and right now, I’m okay with that.
Both of us seem resigned to the fact that we’re where we’re meant to be—no matter how fast things are moving.
I’ve finished the outline for my paper and sent it off to Alan.
It includes all of my research so far, my new hypothesis, and proposed solutions.
He hasn’t said anything yet, but I know he’ll have advice.
Given the mysterious circumstances of this sleepy little fishing village, I am thinking about holding off on writing my paper until things quiet down.
Colt took our statements and I’ll admit, getting everything off my chest has allowed me to relax a bit more.
I spend most days in the lab, or down on the small beach, researching other types of marine life.
Turtles aren’t off the table, but they’re on the back burner for now. Just until I know I’m safe.
And most of the time I feel safe, but every so often I have the uneasy sensation that someone is following me—watching my every move.
I don’t tell Reid or anyone else. I’ve already earned myself the reputation of the woman who stirs the pot.
So, I just keep my head down, get my work done, and spend a lot of time at home.
Despite the troubles I’ve had, I think I needed to come here.
I needed time in Tidehaven to reevaluate my path.
Now, I’ve fallen in love, and I know this is where I’m meant to be no matter who wants me gone.
Reid has turned into an amazing partner—attentive, affectionate, determined to satisfy.
He says he loves me but neither of us have talked about what comes next.
That’s what’s on my mind as I leave the research center on this gloomy Wednesday in July.
Reid needed to stay late today, something about Tate having to go to Beaufort, so we drove separately this morning.
I’m about to drop my things in my car and head over to say goodbye to him when I see it. It takes a heartbeat too long to register what I’m seeing.
The driver’s side window of my Prius is shattered, jagged edges still clinging to the frame. Glass is scattered across the asphalt, glittering like diamonds.
A rush of panic punches through me. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself. “Stay calm.”
I inch closer, crunching over broken glass, and open the door.
Nothing inside the car looks disturbed. My bag’s still on the passenger seat, charger cord dangling from the console.
But then I spot it—something white tucked under the wiper.
My pulse races as I open it slowly. One look at the words written in thick, slanted Sharpie and my blood goes cold.
Thought I told you to leave, it reads.
“Aww, hell,” a voice comes from behind me. “Looks like someone wanted to get your attention.”
I spin around slowly.
Atlas Rourke stands a few feet away, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. He looks too casual, amused even. Like a man who enjoys being where he’s not supposed to be.
My stomach churns so tightly I think I might be sick.
He crouches next to me, close enough that I can smell the smoke on his clothes as he reaches inside the car to brush glass fragments from the front seat. “Shame,” he murmurs. “Pretty thing like you ought to be careful.”
His tone isn’t gentle. It’s a warning dressed up as advice.
My jaw falls slack and words escape me. I close my mouth, swallowing hard.
Atlas straightens, flicking the ash off his cigarette before tipping his head in my direction. “Bye, now.” He walks off whistling off-key, his putrid scent lingering long after he’s gone.
My hands are shaking as I pull out my phone to text Reid.
Me: Car window is smashed. Atlas was here.
And then, as I tuck my phone in my pocket, I swear I hear it again. His whistling. Faint. Somewhere down by the docks.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Reid barks, jogging toward me. “You just found it like this?”
I nod, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. “I was going to throw my stuff in the car and come say goodbye to you…” My words drop off as I hand him the note I found stuck beneath my wiper blade.
“I thought I told you to leave,” he reads aloud before angrily crumpling it in his fist. “This has gone too fucking far.”
I can’t fight it then—a strangled sob escapes me and Reid’s face falls.
“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling me to his chest. “We’ll fix this.”
“Maybe I should just leave. Clearly, that’s what they want. Whoever this is. And Alan said if I’m in danger, I should just go home.” I sniffle into his shirt.
He tenses but holds me tighter. “You are home.”
“Then what do we do?” I whisper into his chest.
“We have to file a report. Document everything,” he says, smoothing my hair.
“I don’t want to deal with this.” I pull back searching his face. Frustration clouds his features.
Before he can reply, we hear it. The sound of a low male voice, talking to Kayla as she locks up the research center.
Atlas.
“You sure are a motivated young woman,” he purrs, his voice carrying toward us.
“Yep. I love marine life,” Kayla chirps. “I’m so grateful that Dr. Caldwell lets me help her.”
I stiffen in Reid’s arms but don’t pull away.
“What do you help her with?” Atlas asks, falling in step beside Kayla.
“Right now, we’re conducting turtle research. I’m not sure what we’ll study next.” Kayla admits, moving toward the parking lot. Toward us.
“Maybe you could show me around the lab sometime,” Atlas says. “You know, I used to be in the Navy.”
Kayla stills and Reid drops his arms from around me, moving in.
“Oh…like Reid.” Her voice drops, uncertain.
“Yeah, like Reid,” Reid growls, stepping into Atlas’s space. “Dude, she’s a teenage girl. Get out of here.”
“I was just asking about her research,” Atlas says, holding up his hands. “Chill.”
Kayla’s eyes dart to me then to Reid. Her cheeks are pink. “It’s fine, Reid. I’m okay.”
“Yeah, that’s good. Go home, Kayla.” Reid nods toward her car. “Rourke, if I catch you sniffing around her again, we’re going to have a problem.”
Atlas barks out a laugh and nods, turning away from us. “Yeah, okay.”
Reid’s quiet and pensive on our short drive back to his cabin.
“I’ll handle this,” he says, glancing at me as he turns down the dirt drive. “I promise you.”
We climb out of the car. My hands tremble as I fumble with the key in the front door. Reid moves past me, checking all the doors and windows. He’s silent, moving through the house with that calm, methodical precision I’ve come to recognize—his version of control. Mine looks different.
I head straight for the kitchen, finding the bananas that are spotted with brown.
I open the cabinet, pulling down the flour and sugar and a big mixing bowl that I had to buy last week when I wanted to make cornbread.
Reid didn’t have one. I remember how I felt hopeful, buying something for our shared space, knowing he never would have needed to.
He didn’t ask for any of this—me, here stirring up trouble.
Now I wonder if I should just walk away from all of it.
“What are you doing?” His voice cuts through my thoughts.
“The bananas are going to go bad. I’m going to bake something,” I mutter. “I always bake when I can’t relax.”
He leans against the counter, arms folded, watching me as I mash bananas into a bowl with more force than necessary. “You sure this is about bananas?”
“He knew my car,” I say, my voice wobbly. Dropping the fork, I turn to him. “Whoever it was. He knew it was mine.”
Reid crosses the room in two long strides. “Hey.” His hand finds my cheek, steady and warm, lifting my gaze up to his. “Look at me.”
I do, and the calm I’ve been clinging to splinters.
“What if it doesn’t stop?” My voice cracks. “What if they just keep pushing until I—until we—”
“They won’t,” he cuts in gently. “I won’t let them.”
“You’re just one man,” I say, shuddering.
Reid lets out an exasperated breath and pulls me to him. “I know. But you’re…everything to me. I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect you.”
I nod, pulling away and turning back to my bananas.
“I’m going to talk to Colt.” He moves toward the front door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Keep the doors locked.”
And then he’s gone.