The Road Less Traveled By (Hart Sisters #2)

Prologue

October 2022

— AUGUST BY TAYLOR SWIFT

“So, I guess this is it,” I say to my bodyguard as I watch him pack up his car. “You didn't leave anything at my house, did you?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“Good.” I grab one of his suitcases and load it into the black Tahoe as he goes back inside to finally check out.

Part of me longs to ask him to stay, even though the threat on my life is behind bars. Even though I know Ralph can’t hurt me anymore, I still struggle to take full breaths when Vince is gone. It’s going to take my body a few weeks to adjust to not having him as my shadow anymore, but I know, eventually, it’ll get better. I have to remember that. Soon, it will be better. Soon, I’ll be able to breathe normally again. Not soon enough, though.

I sit on the bench outside of the hotel as I wait, and I try to focus on anything other than the lingering feeling that something is going to go wrong.

Part of me is worried that this could happen again—having a stalker. Some celebrities have more than one, and even though I’m not at that status, the fact that I had one means there could be another. I could be stuck in this cycle of being stalked for the rest of my life. Who fucking knows what could happen?

“Bree? You okay, angel?” Vince asks as he sits down next to me.

Angel . I’m never going to think of that word the same ever again. “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, those eyes seeing right through me. He’s good at that—reading me. It’s almost way too easy for him, and I guess that’s why he made such a good bodyguard. He’s got a natural way of reading situations, people, and the emotions they want to keep hidden.

“I’m as good as I can be right now.”

“I made you a promise when we first met. Do you remember?”

Of course I remember . “Yes.”

“I know Ralph only got five years, which sucks, but I’m glad they caught him before—”

I cut him off. “Yeah, I’m glad too. And you’ll come back if he gets out? Or should I call the agency and ask for you?”

“I don't know where I'll be if that happens.” If . Not when . If it happens, he’ll be back. “Call or text me if you need me.”

“And you’ll answer?”

“Always, Bree,” he says as he lays his hand over where mine clutches the bench we’re sitting on.

Don’t go , I want to say. I don’t feel as safe when you’re not around, and even though Ralph was caught, I still think there are monsters out there. I still think I’m in danger. I don't think I’ll ever feel safe or okay again, so please stay with me. Please protect me from anything bad that could come my way. Please stay.

But I say nothing, because it would be selfish for me to say all that knowing the job he was assigned is over. It’s strange how close we’ve become over a few months, and now that the job is done, it feels odd that he won't always be around. Vince is a good guy, and an even better bodyguard, but he was never mine . He was assigned to me, and I’m sure he sees me as some sort of case number he can finally close.

And let’s not forget about his rules . Rule number three is no personal attachments, and my attachment means nothing to him. I’m his client—well, not anymore—but rule number four is to always see a case through, and with me, he has.

My case is closed—for now. Unless Ralph gets out, our story ends here.

“Bree, this is going to sound mean, but I truly hope I never have to see you again.”

“Oh.” I get what he means, though. If he sees me again, it’s because I’m in danger again, and the idea makes my body shiver just thinking about it.

Vince stands and pulls his keys out as he walks to his car door.

“Where are you off to next?”

“Another case, I think. I have some calls to make, but that’s what I assume.”

I nod my head. “Gotcha. Well, thank you,” I tell him, even though that seems too little to say after all he’s done for me.

Thank you for making me feel safe. Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for treating me like a real human being and not some social media thing that people assume to know. Thanks for watching my videos before I uploaded them so I could make sure they were good. Thanks for being a friend when I desperately needed one. And thanks for being a shoulder to cry on when the world felt too big.

“Thank you for making my job easy,” he tells me as he swings the door open. “If you need me, call me. I’ll be back to you as soon as I’m able.”

“I will. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too, Bree.”

He shuts his door and drives out of sight, and I stand rooted to my spot for a few minutes .

It was good to know you, Vince Evans.

A few minutes later, I feel a hand snake through mine, and I jump.

“It’s just me, sis.”

Liv. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Are you ready to go?”

I take a long, deep breath before I answer her. “Yeah. I’m ready.”