Chapter Thirty
Liv
For the better part of the last two weeks, I dreaded returning to normal life. Facing the people who knew I was leaving to get married but showing up to work this morning, single and scorned.
Except, I can’t really convince myself that I care now. Feeling Jensen’s body against mine and being showered with uninhibited adoration healed something deep inside of me.
I’ve wanted that part of him for so long that nothing else seems to matter. All I want is more of it.
I slip on my heels before fluffing my hair in the mirror when I hear the wrap tap tap on my front door. It’s a little early, but he’s probably just as eager to see me as I am him.
Swinging the door open, my smile is ready on my face, preparing to see him, but instead, I come face to face with a man I’ve never seen before.
He’s young, but he’s big. He’s at least a head taller than me and almost fills the width of the doorway.
My smile drops.
He doesn’t say anything, staring at me with wide eyes as I stare at him, waiting for him to murder me.
He shoves a bouquet forward, uttering. “Delivery.”
Over the bloom of roses and daisies, I see his brown collared shirt and name tag, and his white delivery van in the driveway.
I don’t touch the flowers, forcing him to hold them out awkwardly. “Who are they from?”
“Oh. Um, I don’t know. I just deliver them, I don’t read the notes.”
“Read it for me.” I clear my throat. “Please.”
He tucks the vase under his arm, pulling the card from the clip in the middle of the bundle, and I watch his face attempt to rival the color of the flowers. “I can’t read this.”
“Read it,” I demand, making him gulp.
“His hands touched you when it should have been me. I dream of slicing the skin away and keeping it for myself,” he stutters through the last of it, shoving the card back into the depths of the flowers.
His gaze stays averted as I stare at him, processing what I just heard.
“So, do you want the flow–” His voice cuts out suddenly, and my vision tunnels as everything around me goes black.
* * *
“Who the fuck are you?”
Hayes.
“Liv!” He touches my face, and I try to focus on feeling his warm fingers on my skin.
“Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?”
He’s angry. Why is he yelling?
“I didn’t do it.” Oh. The delivery boy.
I hope he doesn’t hurt him.
“If you did, I’ll fucking kill you,” he threatens, and I hear a crash. “Call 911, ask for Malec. And, don’t fucking leave my sight.”
As hard as I try, I can’t open my eyes.
“Wake up, Olive,” he murmurs, stroking my cheeks again. “It’s me, open your eyes.”
I hear crinkling.
Cinnamon.
My nose tingles.
“That’s it, baby girl. Wake up.” He thumbs my bottom lip, tipping my mouth open slightly, letting the cinnamon bite my tongue.
I bite down instinctively, chewing to get the burning sensation off my tongue, and blink up at the face in front of me. “You didn’t have to shove the whole piece of gum in my mouth.”
He laughs breathily. “I thought your fainting spells were getting better,” he murmurs, holding my cheeks in his hands.
“Me too.” I lean into his palm, looking up at him. “I guess I can’t blame the stress on a wedding.”
He helps me sit up until my back is resting against the chair in my living room, and brushes my hair back gently.
“We’ll find out who is doing this. I promise.”
As much as it scares me, I’m worried about what will happen when my stalker’s identity is discovered. Jensen won’t rest until I’m safe, and we’ve already paid the price for that once.
I kick at one of my shoes that came loose when I fell, and my foot struggles to right it until his fingers circle my ankle, steadying it. He slides my heel back onto my foot easily, and I don’t breathe until his hand falls away.
I wish he would have left it there.
“Did I scare the flower boy away?” I ask with too much hoarseness in my throat, trying to stand. This time, when he reaches for me, helping me up, he doesn’t let go as I peek over his shoulder.
There’s a broken porch rail lying a few feet from me, and flowers scattered everywhere.
“No, but I scared him thoroughly.” He nods to where the kid is cowering next to his van in the driveway. “He didn’t hurt you, right?” He asks me under his breath, wrapping his arms around my waist to support my weight.
“No, he’s just a delivery guy.”
He nods against my head, and I lean into him, sighing deeply. “You can probably let me go now.”
“You’re still pretty unsteady. I probably shouldn’t.”
A laugh bubbles up out of me, and I feel his smile against my hair. “I don’t think I’ve been taking all of this seriously enough.”
He pulls back to look me in the face, suddenly. “Why?”
“I accepted that I had a stalker, but it’s hard to remember to be scared when you’re around.”
He looks at me earnestly. “Are you flirting with me?”
I knock his shoulder with my palm. “Shut up, I just fainted.” I smile bashfully towards the floor.
He tips my chin up, forcing me to look up at him. “I don’t want you to be scared, but I am worried. I’d like to be around even more… If that’s okay with you?”
He’s asking to be with me more so he can protect me. Nothing else, Olive.
But as his thumb rubs little circles under my chin, my recent fainting spell becomes a distant memory. The words on my flower card don’t ring so clear… When we’re together, I’m always sucked into him.
He’s waiting for a response, but I can’t stop staring at his mouth, inches from mine. I know kissing him wouldn’t solve any of my problems, and it might actually make things worse… But I bet it’d be fun.
“Whatever is happening in your head right now, I want to revisit later.” His deeply spoken words draw my gaze upward. “Malec’s here.”
My first instinct is to pull away from him, but I meet the resistance of his muscles wrapped around me, reminding me that I’m a single woman now.
I don’t have to hide this from anyone. I don’t have to justify who I’m receiving comfort from.
Especially when that person is Jensen Hayes with our years of history.
Malec talks to the flower delivery guy and quickly sends him on his way before meeting us on the porch. “He’s only been on the job three weeks. He doesn’t know anything, and I think you made him piss himself,” Malec sighs, looking at Hayes disapprovingly. I hide my amusement on his shoulder.
“I rolled up, and she was on the ground with some kid hovering over her. What would you fucking think?” He challenges.
“I didn’t say you were wrong, but flying off the handle without cause could really make this blooming friendship a little awkward,” Malec says sarcastically, motioning between him and Hayes, and I don’t bother hiding my laugh.
“That was sweet. You should put it on a Hallmark card,” Hayes responds, dripping with just as much sarcasm. Men.
“Speaking of cards. Where’s the one that came with the flowers?” Malec asks, bringing us back to reality.
A fresh wave of anxiety washes over me as I glance at my feet and all the scattered roses, but I don’t see the card. “It was stuffed in the bouquet. It must be here somewhere.”
“It’s right here,” Hayes announces, finding it behind one of the planters. I don’t have a chance to warn him not to read it before his eyes go dark as night…
His hands touched you when it should have been me. I dream of slicing the skin away and keeping it for myself.
I remember the words crystal clear, now.
Malec plucks it from Hayes’s stony grasp and reads it himself before releasing a slow breath. “Yeah… Not good.”
“Do you think he followed me to the bar? Was he there Saturday night?” That’s the only place that he could have seen Hayes’s hands on me.
Besides… “You hugged me on my back patio that night, right after my wedding. Was he watching then?” I look at Hayes, but he’s still standing eerily still, staring at the floor.
“So, Lochlan was right, you did sneak over here to see her,” Malec accuses Hayes, but he doesn’t react.
I’m wondering how often they talk about me when I’m not around… But I can’t stop looking at his steely posture.
“Jensen,” I say softly. “I’m okay. It was only words.”
He forces air through his nostrils and tips his head back like he’s attempting to regain some composure.
“Now is the time that I need to know everything, Liv,” Malec states, opening up a notepad. “Every person you might have a hunch about. Every person from your past. It was only words this time, next time it might not be.”
“Fuck,” Hayes swears under his breath, stalking across the porch to grasp his hands on the railing.
“I told you everything already. All my boyfriends from college. Elliot. I gave you all my case filings from the past few years.”
Malec shuts his notepad and shoves it back into his vest pocket, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Jensen. Have any one to add?”
His head shakes in frustration, but not as if he’s saying no.
“Tell him, Liv. Or I will.”
“Tell him what?”
He turns to face us, but doesn’t leave the porch railing as he stares at me in silent contention. “Landon Arkett.”
My mouth pops open. “You’re kidding? I was 17, I haven’t heard from him since the day you…” My words trail off, and I glance at Malec because I don’t know how much he knows about Hayes’s history. “Nearly killed him.”
“He seemed pretty obsessed at the time,” Hayes spews. He hates the man.
“The victim of your assault?” Malec asks, looking at Hayes to confirm.
“He’s not a fucking victim. He was a pervert.”
Malec tips his head in understanding and doesn’t argue.
This type of fury in Jensen is the exact thing that makes me nervous to find my stalker. “The last I heard, he spent months in the hospital recovering from his injuries. I never spoke to him again. He never reached out. It’s not Mr. Arkett.”
Jensen only shakes his head in disgust when I say the name again.
“I’ll look into it, but you’re probably right, Liv.
A grown man who preys on teenagers would likely lose interest the older his target gets.
Even if he wasn’t caught in the act and punished for it, he would have probably moved on to another young victim once he got what he wanted from you,” Malec says, and I realize that he knows a lot more than I thought.
“I didn’t have any other boyfriends. Hayes was practically my only friend until he wasn’t. Are we finished? I need to get to work.” I glance coldly at Hayes across the porch. I feel like I’m being blamed for everything all over again.
As if I asked to have a stalker.
As if I asked to have a teacher prey on me when I was 17.
Or have the boy I was in love with go to prison for protecting me.
“I’ll get with you after I look into your old teacher, and I’ll look at the security tapes from the bar on Saturday in case someone stands out. Keep close to Hayes, though, for the time being.”
I smile stiffly at Malec because I know he’s only doing his job, but I really don’t want to be around either of these men right now.
“Hayes, don’t have a stroke,” he bids his farewell to him over his shoulder before walking back to his cruiser, and Hayes gives him the middle finger. “I saw that!” He yells.