Chapter Nine Cole
The word carved into Hailey’s car burns into my retinas like I’ve been staring directly at the sun.
My hands clench into fists at my sides. Every muscle in my body has gone rigid, that familiar hyperfocus clicking into place like a gun being cocked. The narrow downtown street suddenly feels too small, too enclosed. I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears.
For a single absurd second, my fury hiccups around the missing T. This piece of shit followed Hailey to a restaurant, gouged into her car door with a screwdriver, and couldn’t even be bothered to spell-check.
The thought is so absurd I almost laugh in disbelief. Almost. Then the rage rolls back in, hotter and mixed with disgust. He didn’t just try to scare her. He did it sloppily, like she wasn’t even worth proofreading.
“Cole?” Hailey’s voice sounds distant, even though she’s right beside me. “I should… I don’t know what I should do.”
Her hands are trembling. She’s trying to hold it together, but I can see the fear breaking through. All because some piece of shit thought it was okay to violate her property. Her safety. Her sense of security.
“We’re calling the police,” I say, my voice coming out harder than I intended.
“I don’t know if there’s anything they can do about it. It’s just vandalism—”
“It’s not just vandalism.” I turn to face her, forcing myself to relax my tone.
She doesn’t need me to scare her more than she already is.
“Someone followed you here, and then they fucked with your car while you were at dinner. They knew which car was yours. This is escalating, Hailey, and it needs to be taken seriously.”
She wraps her arms around herself and begins to tremble. Her teeth chatter as she shivers.
“Let’s get you warmed up. We can sit in my car while we wait for the police to get here.” I pull her into me, letting my body cloak her from the cool breeze turned suddenly icy. I can make her feel protected in this moment. This is within my control.
“I’m o-okay,” she stutters, leaning against me. “I’m not cold. I think it’s…shock.”
My heart drops into my stomach at the sight of her scared.
Emma on my doorstep, bruised and bloody and so scared she couldn’t speak.
“Of course it’s shock. This was fucked up of someone to do, but I promise, I’ll fix this.”
Her body continues to shake.
“You need to sit down, Hailey. I’m concerned about you.”
Come in, Emma. Sit down. Who did this? Did he do this?
Her terrified eyes meet mine. “I— I don’t know. I haven’t felt like this before. I don’t— I’m not sure what to say.”
“Just say you’ll come sit with me while we wait for the police. I’ll take care of the rest.”
And I will. I’ll hunt down the fucker who did this and make sure they never have the chance to come near her again.
But first, we have to call the police.
“Don’t call them, Cole. Please. He didn’t mean it. He—”
“Why are you protecting him, Emma? Do I have to wait for him to kill you before you let me do something?”
I get her situated in my car with the heat on full blast and pull out my phone. I dial 911, keeping my eyes on Hailey while I answer the dispatcher’s questions about our location, the nature of the damage, if anyone is injured. No, no one’s hurt. Yes, we’ll wait for an officer.
Hailey leans back in my front passenger seat, staring off into the distance. “This was him. It had to be.”
“The patient from the hospital?” I ask. This is the first time she’s acknowledged it’s a male patient. That alone makes my blood burn hotter.
She nods. “He knew about Chewy. He knows my car. And now this, after the note on my windshield.” Her voice cracks slightly, pulling at my heartstrings. “Do I sound paranoid?”
My heart breaks as she begins to spiral, trying to place the blame anywhere but on the person who did this.
“You’re not paranoid.” I turn toward her, taking her face between my hands and forcing her to look into my eyes.
She instinctively wraps one of her small hands around my wrist, meeting my gaze.
“This is serious. You need to tell the police about him, and about the note. About everything. You need to get this documented to protect yourself.”
“They’re not going to do anything. He hasn’t actually threatened me directly. I shouldn’t have even—I shouldn’t have even used his pronoun, I don’t think. I don’t know. Is that a privacy violation? I—”
Her words shut off abruptly, like a power outage in the middle of a storm. I use my thumbs to stroke her cheeks, and she closes her eyes. She’s already accepted that the system won’t protect her. That she’s on her own. I fucking hate that for her.
But she’s not on her own. Not anymore.
I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.
Two uniformed officers arrive fifteen minutes later—a man who looks to be in his forties and a younger woman—both with tired eyes and slow, heavy steps.
Isn’t it a little early in the night to look this over it?
They take photos of the damage, ask Hailey questions about when she parked, when she discovered the vandalism.
“Any idea who might have done this?” the male officer asks, pen poised over his notepad.
Hailey glances at me, and I give her an encouraging nod.
“There’s a patient at the hospital where I work,” she begins. “His behavior has been…concerning. Asking personal questions, mentioning details about my life he shouldn’t know. A few days ago, I found a note on my windshield that said ‘I’m watching you.’”
The female officer’s expression sharpens slightly. “Did you report the note?”
“No, I… I thought maybe I was overreacting.”
“What’s this patient’s name?”
Hailey’s brows are furrowed, and she’s pulling at the hair tie on her wrist, stretching it out, then letting it snap back against her skin.
It feels wrong, especially when she’s been so careful not to tell me anything personal about this guy, but I know patient privacy laws make exceptions for circumstances like this.
I can practically hear Tyler’s voice in my head, encouraging me to step away so she can have this part of the conversation with the officers in private.
So I won’t know the name of the man whose nose I’d love to feel crumple under the force of my fist.
I tell that voice to shut the fuck up.
“Lars Winters.”
Both officers exchange a look I can’t quite read. The woman makes a note. And so do I, because what the fuck was that?
“We’ll include that in the report,” the male officer says, but his tone suggests he’s already written this off as purely coincidental. “Unfortunately, vandalism is pretty common in this area. We’ve had several reports in the past few months.”
“Several reports of someone carving B-I-C-H into a specific car after leaving a note that says ‘I’m watching you’?” I ask, unable to keep the disgust from my voice.
“Vandalism in general,” he clarifies, totally unbothered by the pointedness of my question.
“Random property damage, theft, that sort of thing. Without security footage or witnesses, there’s not much we can do beyond filing a report for your insurance.
Considering whoever did this couldn’t even spell, it was likely a couple kids up to no good downtown.
If this had happened to me, I wouldn’t look beyond that. ”
“There are cameras up and down the street,” I point out, gesturing to the nearest one mounted above a business sign.
“Private security, not police jurisdiction. You’d need to contact each business owner to request footage, and they don’t always cooperate without a warrant. It’ll take several days to get a warrant, and that’s only if we can get a judge to sign off on it.”
“So that’s it?” Hailey asks quietly. “File a report and hope it doesn’t happen again?”
The female officer’s stoic gaze softens with pity. “I know it’s frustrating. My advice would be to vary your routine, park in different locations, maybe install a dashcam. And if this guy approaches you or contacts you outside of work, document everything and call us immediately.”
They finish taking the report, hand Hailey a case number, and leave with empty promises to “keep an eye out.”
As their patrol cruiser disappears down the road, Hailey lets out a shaky breath. “That was about as helpful as I expected.”
“They’re useless,” I mutter, still staring at the gouged paint. The letters on Hailey’s door seems to pulse with malice beneath the fluorescent street lights. The missing T makes it almost worse. Like he was so eager to hurt her, he couldn’t even take the time to do it right.
“I’ll have to call my insurance company. Figure out how to get this buffed out.” She pulls out her phone, but her hands are still trembling.
“Hailey.” I step closer and reach out, gently taking her phone and slipping it inside her pocket. “You can call them in the morning. You shouldn’t drive home alone tonight. Not after this.”
“I’ll be fine—”
“Please.” The word comes out sounding a little desperate, but I guess I am. “Let me at least follow you home. To make sure you get there safely. Or call Rachel. Just let someone make sure you get inside okay.”
She studies my face for a long moment, chewing at the inside of her cheek, as if that’s where she’ll find the answer to a question about independence versus fear. Finally, she nods. “Okay. Thank you.”
The drive to her apartment is torture. I keep my car close behind her SUV, watching for any sign of someone following us, any vehicle that appears more than once. The defaced side of her car is visible every time we pass a under streetlight, a constant fucking reminder of him.
I’d been planning to kiss her tonight. After walking her to her car, after what had been a perfect dinner. The moment felt inevitable—from the moonlight overhead to the way she looked at me while we walked. The easy chemistry between us all night seemed to have only one possible conclusion.
Instead, I’m tailing her home like a bodyguard while rage simmers in my chest.
Her apartment is an older building with zero security, a poorly-lit parking area, and no cameras. I make note of all of it.
I can fix this.