Chapter Two
Holly's brush hovered over the canvas. She was trying to figure out how best to finish her painting. She'd been up since dawn, unable to sleep after the charged encounter with Jonah. Her body still throbbed with unfulfilled desire, and painting was the only thing that quieted her racing thoughts.
A soft scrape of paper sliding under her door made her frown. Setting down her brush, she moved toward the white envelope on the floor. Her name was written across the front in block letters that made her skin crawl. Creepy.
She stared at it, memories of her father's cases flooding back. Anonymous letters never meant anything good in Judge Reese's world. She'd heard the stories—threats, bribes, attempts at intimidation. But that was supposed to be his problem, not hers. She'd cut ties specifically to avoid this.
Holly's hand trembled as she reached for the envelope. Part of her wanted to leave it there, pretend she hadn't seen it, go back to her painting where the only violence was the slash of color across canvas. But ignoring threats didn't make them disappear.
She tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
You can't hide from your father's sins forever.
The words were cut from magazines and pasted onto plain white paper like something out of a bad movie. Holly read it again, hoping she'd misunderstood, but the message was crystal clear.
"Shit."
She lunged for her door, yanking it open and stumbling into the hallway. Empty. The corridor stretched in both directions with no sign of movement, no sound of retreating footsteps, nothing but the hum of the building's ancient ventilation system.
Holly stepped into the hallway, the letter clutched in her hand.
The elevator was dark and silent. The stairwell door hadn't closed.
She would have heard the heavy fire door slam.
Whoever had delivered this had either left fast and quiet or was still in the building.
Maybe watching her from the peephole behind one of the other apartment doors.
She backed into her apartment and locked the deadbolt, then engaged the chain for good measure. Her hands were shaking now, adrenaline finally catching up with shock. Holly sank against the door, staring at the letter crumpled in her hand.
This was one reason why she'd cut ties with her father three years ago. His enemies had a way of becoming everyone else's problem, and she'd refused to spend her life looking over her shoulder.
So much for that plan.
Holly forced herself to breathe, to think rationally. It could be nothing. Some crackpot who'd read about Judge Reese in the papers decided to harass his family. It happened sometimes. Usually, it amounted to nothing more than empty threats from keyboard warriors with too much time on their hands.
But this felt different. The fact that they knew where she lived, that they could get close enough to slide it under her door without her hearing them approach made her feel more threatened than she liked.
Picking up her phone, she was going to call the police.
File a report. But what would she tell them?
That someone left her a note? They'd tell her the same thing she was already telling herself.
It would probably amount to nothing, keep an eye out, and call if it anything escalates.
She'd seen enough of her father's world to know that law enforcement couldn't do much about vague threats.
A knock at her door made her jump and she cursed.
She crept to the peephole and an unexpected flood of relief when she saw Jonah standing in the hallway, holding two steaming cups of coffee.
She was wearing an oversized sleep shirt that barely covered her thighs.
And with her paint-stained hands, and hair that probably looked like she'd been electrocuted, she was a sight to behold.
But right now, seeing him at her door made her feel safer than she'd felt since finding that envelope.
She cracked the door open, keeping the chain engaged. "Let me guess. You ran out of cream this time?"
He held up one of the coffee cups. "Peace offering. I felt bad about leaving you to clean up the sugar mess last night."
Holly hesitated. She should probably mention the threatening letter, but she held back.
Years of being Judge Reese's daughter had taught her to be careful about who she trusted with family business.
And the chemistry crackling between them didn't change the fact that Jonah was still essentially a stranger.
"I should probably get dressed first," she said, though she made no move to close the door.
Jonah's gaze dropped briefly to her bare legs before snapping back to her face. "Probably," he agreed.
Holly leaned closer to the door frame. Every rational thought screamed at her to step back. There was something magnetic about him. It made her want to throw caution to the wind and see what happened.
"Give me five minutes," she said.
"I'll be here."
Holly closed the door and leaned against it. What was wrong with her? She'd known the man for less than twenty-four hours, and she was already inviting him into her morning routine like they were... what? Dating? Friends with benefits?
She didn't do casual hookups with neighbors.
Hell, she didn't do casual hookups, period.
Her last relationship had ended eight months ago when she'd caught her ex going through her phone, looking for proof that she really wasn’t in contact with her father.
Apparently dating a federal judge's daughter came with perks some people were willing to exploit.
Holly threw on jeans and a fitted t-shirt, ran a brush through her hair, and stuffed the threatening letter into her back pocket before opening the door again. Jonah was leaning against the opposite wall, looking perfectly at ease.
"Better?" she asked, accepting the coffee he offered.
He did a slow sweep of her body that left her feeling scorched. "Debatable."
Holly nearly choked on her first sip of coffee. "Smooth talker, aren't you?"
"Not usually." The admission surprised them both, and Jonah became more guarded. "You bring out the worst in me, apparently."
"Is that what this is? Your worst?"
"Trust me, you don't want to see my worst."
He’s flirty tone sent shivers down her spine—recognition that she was playing with fire. Holly made a decision. She had to tell someone about the letter. “Come on in. I want to show you something.”
“Oh really?”
She pulled out the letter from her back pocket and handed it to him. "Someone slipped this under my door this morning."
He read it, scowling.
"You didn’t see anyone in the hallway this morning did you?” she asked.
"No." He looked up from the letter, his gaze moving past her into the apartment as if checking for other threats. "Did you hear anything? Footsteps, the elevator, a door closing?"
"Nothing. That's what's so creepy about it." Holly took a sip of her coffee. It was good. Black, no sugar. Just how she liked it. "I checked the hallway immediately, but it was like they just vanished."
Jonah went back to the letter, and she saw his expression shift.
"What?" she asked.
"This took time." He held up the paper. "Someone cut these letters out, arranged them, glued them down. There are easier ways to send a note.”
“Maybe they didn’t have my email or phone number.”
“Your apartment is less commonly known, I’d imagine.”
“I tried to keep it that way.”
“Are you going to tell your father about this?” he asked.
“Why? What’s he going to do, aside from freak out.”
“He may be able to tell you what cases he’s been working on.”
She was mid sip when his words registered. “Cases?”
"Judge Benedict Reese has been in the news plenty of times. And Reese isn't the most common last name."
It was a reasonable explanation, but his tone set off alarm bells. "Most people don't immediately connect me to him. I've worked pretty hard to keep my distance from his world."
"Maybe you haven't worked hard enough."
The words hung in the air between them, loaded with implications Holly didn't like. She took a step back, suddenly very aware that she was alone with a man she knew nothing about.
"I should probably call the police," she said, more to gauge his reaction than because she actually intended to.
“You should definitely report this. Get it on record.”
Well that was a relief.
"Give them a call.”
“I think I’d rather go down to the police station. I think getting out of the apartment and out in the fresh air will do me a world of good.”
He shrugged. “Sure. Grab your purse and I’ll walk you to your car, just to be safe."
Holly wanted to argue that she could take care of herself, but the idea of being in the parking garage alone wasn’t too appealing.
"Thanks," she said, gathering up her things.
When they got to the garage however, her Honda Civic sat in its usual spot, but something was wrong. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing.
Every single tire had been slashed.
"Holy shit." Holly gasped. The sight of her car—her reliable, practical little car that had never hurt anyone—sitting there violated and destroyed really pissed her off.
Jonah was beside her in an instant, his hand on her lower back as he scanned the parking garage like he expected whoever had done this to still be lurking in the shadows.
"Don't touch anything," he said, his voice sharp with authority. "We need to call the police now."
"I can't afford this." Holly's voice broke. She'd been saving for months to build up an emergency fund, but car repairs weren't in the budget. "Insurance will probably cover it, but my rates are going to skyrocket."
"Hey." Jonah turned her to look at him. "Don’t worry about that right now. Have you noticed anyone following you? Anyone who seemed out of place hanging around the building?"
The gentle way he touched her warred with the hardness in his voice, leaving Holly feeling off-balance. "No. I don't think so. I mean, I'm not exactly paranoid about that stuff."
"Maybe you should be."
Jonah pulled out his phone and called the police. Holly listened as he reported the vandalism and the threatening note she received this morning. She should have done that, but she was still shaking with rage and probably fear.
"They'll be here in twenty minutes," he said after hanging up. "Why don't we wait upstairs until they get here?"
Holly nodded, suddenly feeling very small and very alone. Jonah's presence beside her was solid, reassuring. As they walked back toward the building, she moved closer to him, drawn to the strength he radiated.
"I've spent three years trying to get away from my father. I changed my phone number, moved across the city, and stopped calling him and taking his calls. And still something like this happened."
"Holly—"
"No, you were right. I obviously haven't worked hard enough to distance myself." She laughed bitterly. "Maybe I should just call him, let him handle this the way he handles everything else. With lawyers and threats and the full weight of the federal court system."
"Is that what you want?"
The question stopped her short. "What do you mean?"
"Do you want to go running back to daddy the first time things get scary?”
"No. Hell no. I've worked too hard to get away from him."
"I can help.”
"Why?" she asked. "Why do you care what happens to me? You barely know me."
Jonah was silent for a long moment, and Holly could practically see him weighing his words.
"Because someone should. Because you're brave and stubborn and beautiful, and you deserve better than spending your life looking over your shoulder.
" He paused, his hand finding hers. "And because I have a feeling whoever's doing this isn't going to stop with tire slashing. "
Holly's breath caught at the contact, at the way his thumb traced circles on her palm. Even in the middle of her personal crisis, her body responded to him with a willingness that should have embarrassed her.
"You think it's going to get worse?"
"I think you need to be careful. Very careful."
“What makes you say that?”
He looked conflicted, like he was battling with himself over something important. Then his phone rang, and the moment shattered.
"I should take this," he said, already stepping away from her. "It's work."
He walked a few feet away, speaking in low tones she couldn't make out. But she caught enough to know he was military—or had been. The way he stood, the clipped professionalism in his voice, the automatic deference when he said "Yes, sir."
When he returned, he shook his head in apology. "I have to go. Work emergency."
"Yeah, of course you do." Holly tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "I can handle this. The police are on their way, right? I’ll keep the door locked until they get here.”
"I'll stay until they arrive," Jonah said. "But after that, I want you to promise me something."
"What?"
"Don't go anywhere alone. Not until we know what we're dealing with."
Holly bristled at the command in his voice. "I'm not going to become a prisoner because some psycho wants to get to me through my father."
"That’s exactly why you should always be with someone.”
There was no one. But she didn’t want to tell him that.
Her father had done a hell of a job making sure no one wanted to get close to her.
And even with the distance of three years, she hadn’t gotten the hang of trusting any new friends or acquaintances.
“I appreciate the concern, really. But I'll be fine. I took self-defense classes and I’ll start carrying my pepper spray and some other nasty surprises. "
"You don’t have to do this alone."
“Yeah, I do.”
“I’ll be back soon. Can you at least stay put until I get back?”
She hadn’t been planning on going out today before all of this happened. “I suppose.”
“We can go out for lunch. How does pizza sound?”
“Like a bribe.”
“It is.”
“Can I pick the toppings?”
“Sure,” he said, giving in with a smile.
She smiled back. “And a cannoli for dessert?”
“You like to push your luck, don’t you?”
"All the time." She smiled back at him. "Is that a problem?"
"Lady, you have no idea."
The way he said it, rough and low like a promise, sent heat spiraling through her body. For a moment, the vandalized car and threatening letter faded into background noise, overwhelmed by the chemistry brewing between them.