Chapter 3 #2
“Stop.“ My voice cracks like a whip.
They both turn to me.
I start to tremble, a core of molten fury that threatens to incinerate everything in its path. “Both of you. Stop.”
Inside the house, something crashes. Glass shatters. Shadow Daddy’s jealous fury given form, because yes, that’s exactly what we need more of right about now.
I look at James. “You put cameras outside my house.”
“Aye.”
“Inside my house?”
A pause, then, “Cannae get past your daddy, can I?”
I heave out a breath. “In Kansas City too?”
“Aye, but nae inside because ye never left your house after the trial…until ye did and came here.”
“You never left your house?” Eddie asks me softly.
I shake my head, and my jaw aches from clenching that much history.
The detective knows about Penelope “Penny” Seskeny, about the past, but he doesn’t know me during that time.
The only reason James does is because he watched me, stalked me, for five years until I was finally ready to come to Wichita for vengeance.
Eddie takes the hint about not wanting to talk about Kansas City and moves on with drilling James. “So you followed her like a fucking stalker psycho?”
“The point,” James says as he steps closer to me, his voice dropping to something dangerous and soft, “is that someone tried to take ye today, Prayer. And if I hadnae been watching—if your daddy monster hadnae lost his shite and scared them off—you’d be dead right now. Or worse.”
He’s right. And I can’t find it in me to be angry with him about it because he saved me. He and Shadow Daddy saved me.
I nod. “I’m not angry with you.”
“What?” Eddie’s jaw works as he ticks his gaze between us. “He violated your privacy, Sera. Your autonomy. He stalked you in Kansas City, and now he’s stalking you here. That he thinks he has the right—“
“But you’re also angry he watched,” I press. “That he saw us. That he saw you.”
Eddie doesn’t answer. His silence is answer enough.
I look between them. James, vibrating with violent fury and territorial jealousy.
Eddie, rigid with professional outrage masking something more primal.
And behind me, through the open door, Shadow Daddy—a suffocating, jealous presence because two other men are standing too close to what he’s already claimed.
It’s like they’re my court and my powder keg at the same time. My Fist, my Mind, and my Shadow.
I take the tablet from Eddie, rewind the footage, and watch it again. The figure in black slides into my car, and I freeze the frame, trying to make out anything—height, build, gait. But it’s too grainy.
“It could be Red Hands,“ I say quietly. “Or it could be someone else. We don’t know who this is. We don’t know what they want. We don’t know if they’ll come back.”
Inside, another crash. The shadows pulse, aggressive and demanding.
“And to figure this out, we can’t even function as a team,” I continue, “because you’re all too busy pissing on your territory to actually think.”
I look down at the tablet again and fast-forward to the image of the figure running away.
He’ll come back. Whoever it is, if I’m now in his sights, he’ll come back.
“If you truly want to protect me, we need rules,” I say.
“Rules?” James’s eyebrow arches, and I almost laugh at the way he says it, like he’s never heard of the concept and doesn’t care for it.
“Boundaries,” Eddie corrects with a pointed look at James. “Protocols.”
“Call it whatever you want.” I meet each of their gazes in turn. “But right now, you’re liabilities to each other. And to me. And I can’t afford that. Not with whoever that was”—I gesture to the tablet—“still out there. And not with Vincent.”
Inside, the crashing stops. The shadows still like Shadow Daddy is finally listening again.
“So here’s what’s going to happen,” I say, my voice steadying, finding the cold, hard core of control I need.
“You’re going to tell me where every camera is, James.
All of them. And then we’re going to decide which ones stay and which ones go, and the ones that stay will need to be upgraded so we can actually see something that doesn’t look like we’re viewing it through mashed potatoes. ”
James nods.
“And you,” I turn to Eddie, “are going to run this footage through every database you have access to. See if the gait matches any known suspects. See if we can get anything useful.”
“I can’t use illegally obtained—“
“Then don’t put it in a report,” I snap, then work to control my tone. “Just look. For me.”
Nodding, he ducks his head to look me in the eye so I can tell he means what he’s about to say. “I will. I’ll do anything. I’ll also dust your car for prints and search the interior for hair and fibers.”
I nod.
“And Daddy…” I turn toward the open door and the writhing shadows within, “no more destroying my house every time a man with good intent looks at me. You want me? You’ve got me. But you don’t get to cage me unless someone actively wants to do me harm. Like today. You did good. Thank you.”
The shadows pulse once, seeming resistant.
“I mean it,” I say. “You scared off whoever that was today. You saved me. But if you can’t control yourself around these two, you and I are going to have a problem.”
The writhing shadows shudder, which isn’t really an answer. I guess I’ll have to buy him a leash or something to help contain him.
I look back at James and Eddie. “Can we do this? Can we figure out how to exist in the same space without killing each other?”
“While fucking each other?” James asks, his eyes sparkling with his smile.
Eddie shoots him a murderous look.
“Both,” I say flatly. “We need to figure out both.”
The absurdity of it almost makes me laugh. Almost. A ghost, a stalker, and a detective, all circling the same broken woman like she’s the last light in a dying world.
My court.
My beautiful, fucked-up, dangerously unstable court.
“Rules, sure. Fine.” James runs his hands through his hair, making it spike in all directions, and nods.
Eddie sighs. “I’ll run the footage. Quietly. But if this comes back on me professionally—“
“It willnae come back on ye,” James tells him flatly.
“I ought to arrest you, you walking felony,” the detective says.
James grins. “Ye can try. See how that goes for ye, aye?”
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“I’ll take ye to work, Prayer, while your detective fondles your car,” James offers. “I’ll park myself in the lot and keep watch over ye.”
I start to nod, but something else strikes me then. “You have cameras at Gas N’ Go, too, don’t you? That’s how you saw—“
I snap my mouth shut. That’s how he saw Rick, my former boss, and me in the storeroom just before he stalked in and killed him.
Eddie narrows his eyes at James. “What is it exactly that you do anyway? Other than play Big Brother with a hard-on?”
James shrugs. “Freelance.”
“For?”
“For folks with a lot of money and a lot of problems. Folks who dinnae like questions.”
“But not so much money that you can’t afford quality cameras to watch Sera?” Eddie fires back.
James smiles and gives Eddie a patronizing pat on the cheek, which Eddie angrily bats away. “Ye try buying the quality ones in bulk for extracurriculars on the sheriff department’s dime. See who’s the numpty then.”
“Anyway.“ I straighten my ruined shirt as best I can. “I’ve got work. So do the both of you. I need to shower and change into clothes that aren’t confetti.”
I shoo them off the porch, but neither of them moves.
James’s eyes linger on the bite mark on my shoulder. Something feral and hungry flashes in his gaze, but he steps back. “I’ll be in my van when you’re ready.”
Eddie reaches out and squeezes my hand. “We’ll figure this out. You’re never alone. You’re safe.”
I almost laugh. Safe. What a quaint concept, but I am safer right now than I would’ve been in my car twenty minutes ago.
Eddie and James step off the porch together, an uneasy truce settling between them as they descend the steps, James heading toward his van parked half on, half off the curb, and Eddie’s sedan next to my car in the driveway.
They exchange one last loaded look before climbing into their respective vehicles.
I step back inside the house, close the door, and lock it twice.
The house exhales.
Shadows reach toward me and cup my jaw, gentle and possessive.
“Mine,” Daddy murmurs.
“Yours,” I agree.
Because it’s true. Because denying it is pointless.
But as his darkness wraps around me like a shroud, I can’t shake the image burned into my brain.
The figure in black tucked into my back seat like a surprise party with knives.
He’ll be back.
And next time, it may not happen at my house where Shadow Daddy can save me.
After everything, what a fucking idiot I am to not expect the unexpected.