Chapter Sixteen Hailey #2
When they’re finally gone, Dr. Chen turns to me with concern written across her face.
“Hailey, I want you to take the rest of the shift off,” she says gently. “You’ve been through enough tonight.”
“I’m fine,” I protest without hesitation. “I can handle my patients.”
“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to, not after being threatened like that.” Her tone is kind but firm. “Go home, get some rest. We’ll handle things here.”
Part of me wants to argue, to prove that I’m not shaken, that I can maintain my composure regardless of what patients throw at me. But the larger part—the part that’s been holding back fear for the past half hour—desperately wants to escape this place.
“What about my patients?” I ask weakly, tears returning to my eyes. I fight them back. It’s not like me to cry.
“Lisa’s coming in early to cover,” Marco says, appearing with my jacket and purse in one hand, and the master key to the lockers in the other. “She’s already on her way.”
The speed with which they’ve arranged coverage tells me how worried they are, or how obvious my distress is despite my best efforts to hide it.
“Will you file a police report?” Dr. Chen asks. “What he described suggests he’s been watching you. Do you have anyone who can stay with you? Or anywhere else you can stay until we get this figured out?”
“Yes,” I say, too exhausted to fully answer her. “I’ll call them from home.”
“Don’t go home alone,” Marco advises. “Call someone. Stay with a friend tonight.”
The suggestion makes sense, but most of my friends work day shifts and are already asleep. Rachel lives across town and has an overtime shift tomorrow. My parents are fifteen hundred miles away, and I’m not convinced they wouldn’t dismiss this situation as another overblown response.
When security returns, they escort me to my car in the parking garage, but I still find myself checking shadows between parking spots and listening for footsteps.
One name keeps surfacing in my mind: Cole.
It’s ridiculous, really. We barely know each other. Bothering him with this so soon after our date seems like the kind of red flag that would send most men running.
But he’s not most men.
I keep thinking about his calm demeanor and how much I need someone to ground me right now. More than that, there was something…in him yesterday. He felt protective without being possessive, like he’d be here in a heartbeat if I called.
I sit in my car for several minutes with the engine running and the doors locked, trying to decide between going to my potentially dangerous apartment alone or reaching out to someone I hardly know for help.
Finally, I pull out my phone and scroll to Cole’s number before I lose my nerve. My hands are shaking slightly as I press call, and I almost hang up before he answers.
“Hailey?” His voice is alert despite the late hour. “Is everything okay?”
The concern in his tone nearly undoes me.
“Hi. I’m sorry to call so late. Lars Winters was at the hospital tonight.
” I take a shaky breath, fighting back tears.
“He made it clear he knows a lot of personal information about me. He basically admitted he’s been stalking me for quite some time.
I’m honestly pretty shaken, and I don’t want to go home right now.
I’m scared, Cole.” My voice cracks at the confession, and hot tears start rolling down my face.
There’s a pause, but I immediately sense it’s not because he’s trying to think of an excuse to get off the phone. It’s more like he’s processing the information and trying to figure out what to do.
“Where are you right now?” he asks, his voice sharp.
“In my car at the hospital. They sent me home early because of what happened.”
“Don’t go home,” he says immediately. “Are you safe to drive?”
“Yes, I think so.” My heart rate jumps with his urgency, making me sit straighter in my seat and take another glance around the parking garage. I dry my tears with my jacket sleeve.
“Can you meet me somewhere? Magnolia Joe’s is probably closed, but there’s a twenty-four-hour diner on College Avenue—Murphy’s. Do you know it?”
“I can find it.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Drive carefully, and call me if anything feels wrong on the way, okay?”
The immediate shift into protective mode makes me want to cry even more. He cares. “Are you sure? It’s late and this is a lot to dump on you.”
“Hailey,” he says firmly, “I’m sure. Someone threatened you. That’s serious.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, meaning it more than I’ve ever meant anything.
“See you in ten minutes. Drive safe.”
The line goes dead, and I’m alone again.
I sit there for a moment, phone still pressed to my ear even though there’s no one on the other end. The parking garage is silent except for the hum of my engine and the distant echo of a car door closing somewhere far away.
Ten minutes. Cole will be there in ten minutes.
I should start driving.
But my hands won’t move from my lap. My body feels disconnected from my brain, like the signals aren’t quite reaching their destinations. I know I need to put the car in reverse. I know I need to get out of this garage, away from this hospital, away from this place.
I love that you leave your bedroom window cracked open when you sleep.
The thought hits me all over again, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing.
He’s been outside my apartment. While I was sleeping.
How many times? How close did he get?
Has he been inside?
Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
My breathing is coming too fast now, shallow gasps that make my vision swim. I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles change color, trying to anchor myself to something solid.
A few hours ago, I was happy. I was smiling so much my face hurt, giddy about weekend plans with a guy I really like. I was worried about normal things—whether I was texting too much, whether he’d think I was too eager, whether Chewy truly approves of him.
Normal things.
Stupid, beautiful, normal things.
Now I’m sitting in a parking garage at two in the morning, afraid to go home because a man who didn’t get his way decided he had a right to my happiness. Like it’s his to shred until there’s nothing left but all-consuming fear.
The tears come again, hot and relentless. I let them fall, too exhausted to fight anymore.
I think about Rachel telling me to report everything. I think about Cole’s face when he saw the word carved into the side of my car. I think about all the times I minimized this, told myself I was overreacting, convinced myself it wasn’t that serious.
It’s serious.
It’s been serious this whole time.
And I was too busy trying not to be dramatic to see it.
I wipe my face with my sleeve and force myself to take a breath. Then another. And then another.
Cole is waiting. I need to move.
I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot, checking my mirrors obsessively. Every shadow looks like a person. Every distant sound makes me flinch. I take the long way out of the garage, avoiding the dark corners, staying beneath the lights.
As I pull onto the main road, I catch myself glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds. Looking for headlights that follow too closely. Looking for a car that makes the same turns I do.
Looking for him.
This is my life now, I realize. Checking corners. Watching shadows. Wondering if every stranger on the street is someone who wants to hurt me.
I don’t know how to be this person.
I don’t know how to live like this.
But I don’t have a choice anymore.
The drive to Murphy’s doesn’t take long, but I’m consumed by my own racing thoughts and tears I can’t seem to stop. My mind serves up a constant replay of every word Winters said, every detail he knew, every threat he made.
How did I get here?
By the time the diner’s neon sign looms at the next intersection, I’m shaking so hard I can barely keep the car straight. I pull into the parking lot and find a spot near the entrance, under the brightest light I can find.
I kill the engine.
And then I just sit there, staring at nothing, trying to remember what it felt like to be the person I was a few hours ago.
She feels like a stranger now.
Someone I used to know.
Someone who didn’t yet understand how quickly safety can become an illusion—how easily the world she thought she knew could twist into something dark and unfamiliar and terrifying.
I take one more shaky breath and reach for the door handle. I have to pull myself together.
Cole will make this feel manageable, even if it isn’t.
But underneath the relief of seeing him, underneath the gratitude that someone showed up when I needed them—there’s a cold, hard truth I can’t escape.
When the sun comes up, I’ll have to go home.
And Lars Winters will still be out there.
Watching.
Waiting.
And I have no idea what he’s planning next.