Chapter Twenty-Five Hailey
I’m still sitting on the floor with my back against the door when I hear Rachel’s hurried footsteps on the stairs. My whole body feels numb, like I’m watching everything happen to someone else.
“Hailey, it’s me,” Rachel calls, knocking softly on the door. “Let me in.”
I force myself to stand on wobbly legs and unlock the door. Rachel takes one look at my face and immediately pulls me into a tight hug.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Cole was here.” I say it into her shoulder.
She goes still, her entire body stiffening immediately.
“He was here here? In the building?”
“At the door. Five minutes ago. Maybe ten. I don’t know. He left when I asked him to.”
Rachel pulls back enough to scan my face, her ER-coded brain clicking into place the same way mine does at triage. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?”
“No. Nothing like that. He—” I stop. I don’t know how to start this sentence. “He told me some things. A lot of things. Can we sit down? I need to sit down.”
“Couch. Now. I’ll get you water.”
She steers me to the couch and disappears into my kitchen. Chewy comes out from wherever he’s been hiding and scrambles into my lap. I press my face into his fur and try to breathe.
Rachel comes back with water, then drapes a blanket around my shoulders. She sits on the coffee table facing me and puts her hands on my knees.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “Start wherever you want to start.”
The story comes out in pieces.
“He told me he’s been watching Lars.” I default to the sanitized version of events. I don’t know why, but I don’t fight my instincts. “Since he keyed my car. He said he had a way to track where Lars was, and that’s how he knew he was in the neighborhood tonight.”
Rachel’s eyebrows climb. “Track him…how?”
“He wasn’t specific.”
Another lie, and I don’t know why I just told it. To protect Cole? From what? Facing the reality of what he’s done?
Rachel watches me for a beat too long, and I slant my eyes to the floor.
“Okay,” she says slowly. “What else?”
“He’s in therapy. Some kind of support group. He has a sister who was hurt by someone, and he has a hard time letting go of that, so he’s in therapy.”
“And you told him to leave,” Rachel says.
“Yeah. I said I needed space. I told him to go, and he did.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
She watches me for another long second. I can tell she’s thinking hard.
“Hailey,” she says carefully. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Are you protecting him right now?”
My mouth opens, then closes.
“I don’t know,” I finally say. “I think I might be.”
She blows out a breath, but I know she’s not angry. She’s just realized the night is going to be a lot longer than she thought.
“Okay. We’re calling the police. If Lars was at your building tonight, that report needs to exist.”
“I know.” I scrub my hands over my face. “I know.”
I let her make the call. When the officer arrives, I tell her about everything that led up to tonight’s events, but I don’t mention Cole or how he knew so much. I watch Rachel’s jaw tighten from the corner of my eye, but she stays silent.
“You definitely have grounds for a restraining order,” Officer Jasken says. “His behavior constitutes stalking and harassment.”
“What would that involve?”
“You’d file at the courthouse. It would legally prohibit him from contacting you or coming within a certain distance of your home, workplace, or person. Given his patterns, I’d strongly recommend it.”
“I’ll do it,” I say. “First thing in the morning.”
“Good. Call us immediately if he contacts you again or shows up at your home or work.”
“I will.”
She asks if there’s anything else I want her to put in the report. I feel the weight of Rachel’s eyes on me, but I ignore it.
“No,” I say. “That’s everything I can think of.”
The officer nods, hands me a business card, and leaves.
Rachel closes the door behind her and stands there with her back to me for a solid five seconds before she turns around.
“Hailey.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m going to, though.”
“Rachel—”
“You just sat here and lied to a police officer for him.” Her voice is low.
Not cruel—my friend doesn’t have a cruel bone in her body.
But she’s worried for me. I fear I’ve given her a good reason to be.
“A man you’ve known for a few months, who just admitted that he’s been surveilling another human being practically since the moment you two met… You’re protecting him.”
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t—”
“You kind of did, Hailey. You left out some pretty major parts of the story.”
I don’t have a response. She’s right.
“Why?” she asks, softer now. “Why are you doing this?”
I pull Chewy closer, look at my ceiling, my window, my hands. Anywhere but at Rachel right now.
“Because he isn’t the same as Lars.” The words come out small. “Lars makes me feel like I’m being hunted. When Cole told me what he did, I was furious—I am so fucking furious. But I’m not scared of him. I don’t know how to explain that in a way that doesn’t make me sound insane.”
“You don’t sound insane. You sound like someone who’s developed an attachment and is going to have a very hard time thinking clearly for a while as a result.”
“Probably.”
“And that’s dangerous, Hailey. That’s the part I’m worried about. He has proven to you tonight that he is willing to cross lines for you. I’m not sure if he’s a hero or a problem.”
I nod. I can’t argue with her because I don’t disagree. All the things she’s saying are things I’ve already said to myself in the last hour.
They just aren’t strong enough to move me yet.
“I’m not going back to him tonight,” I say. “I’m not calling him. I told him I needed space, and I meant it. I’m just… I’m not ready to cast him as a villain yet. I need time.”
Rachel closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose the way she does at the end of a double.
“Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Space. I can live with space. As long as space means space, Hailey. That doesn’t mean a week from now you meet him for coffee to hear him out and end up back in his bed.”
“It means space.”
“Swear to me.”
“I swear.”
She nods. Slow and somewhat unconvinced, but willing to let it be. For now.
“I’m sleeping here tonight,” she says.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“Thank you.”
She makes me tea, then she puts on a movie neither of us actually watches. Chewy stays curled on my chest the whole time, falling asleep with his tiny nose tucked under my collarbone.
At some point, Rachel reaches over and squeezes my hand. And she doesn’t let go.