Chapter 17
Katherine
Kath exits the building, shedding the day like skin as the night air greets her with a cool hush. She exhales slowly—and steps into the rhythm of the city. Horns in the distance, muffled voices, the soft pulse of footsteps echoing against flickering lights.
She blends into it all with practiced ease. Coat pulled tight around her, bag secure at her side, heels ticking steady against the pavement. Everything feels normal. Almost.
It starts as nothing. No sharp sound. No jarring motion.
Just a whisper. A shift. The kind of feeling that crawls up your spine and makes your breath go quiet.
She tries to shake it off, but it clings. It’s late, and she’s utterly exhausted.
The rhythm of her steps steadies her. One foot in front of the other. Head down, focused on the cracks in the sidewalk. Anything to avoid looking over her shoulder.
Then it comes again—a prickle at the nape of her neck.
The unmistakable sense that someone's gaze is lingering a little too long.
One block. Then another. The air was cold in her lungs, the pavement steady beneath her feet.
Then—another step. Not hers. Quiet, deliberate. Slightly behind. Slightly off.
She slowed her pace instinctively. And whoever was behind her did the same. Coincidence?
Kath decided to test it. She sped up, her strides lengthening. The sound of footsteps behind her followed suit, the rhythm shifting to match hers.
No. This isn’t chance.
Her stomach dropped as the realization sank in. Every muscle in her body coiled with tension. The world around her hadn't changed—but she had. Her instincts went sharp, senses heightened, ready for whatever threat might be lurking in the shadows.
She reached the crosswalk and stopped, her mind racing. Forced herself to breathe, to stay calm and not give away her growing unease.
Glancing back casually, her heart stumbled when she spotted the man—mid-40s, wearing a dark jacket. He wasn't running or lurking, but his presence felt deliberate, too perfectly average to be a coincidence. On an empty street, he stood out.
The light changed, and Kath crossed, cutting down a quieter side street. The footsteps followed without hesitation. He didn't approach, but shifted to keep her in his periphery.
Fucking hell. There’s no doubt now—she’s being followed.
Her body reacted before thought could intervene—heart hammering against her ribs, breath hitching in shallow bursts as the cold night air burned against her cheeks. Panic slicked her palms, a clammy heat blooming beneath the chill, spreading faster than she could contain it.
This was happening. Someone’s tracking her.
Instinct took over as she scanned her surroundings, calculating distances and assessing potential safety zones.
The main road was too far away, and the office building was behind her, offering no refuge. The shops lining the street were closed for the night, their darkened windows providing no solace. Even the bar on the corner, while open, seemed too empty and isolated to offer any real protection.
Tightening her grip on her bag, Katherine kept moving, her steps purposeful yet measured. Don't stop. Don't freeze.
Those were the rules she clung to, the mantra that kept her from panicking.
With trembling fingers, she dug for her phone, her mind racing through the options. Ian was too far away to be of any immediate help. Calling Lisa was out of the question—she couldn't risk involving her sister in this potential danger.
Joshua crossed her mind, but something held her back.
Then, without hesitation, her thumb hovered over Ben’s name— and tapped.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
The sound echoed in her ear like a countdown. Her breath caught. The prayer was simple: Pick up. Please, just pick up.
Katherine's fingers trembled as she clutched her phone, the sound of footsteps behind her growing louder with each passing second. Her heart pounded desperate.
The line clicked, his voice—smooth, in control—slid through the speaker. Oblivious to the panic gripping her. "Winters.
To what do I owe the pleasure?"
She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat, tangled by the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "Ben—" she managed, her voice rushed and uneven.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
His tone sharpened immediately, instincts attuned to the undercurrent of distress in her voice. "Kath?"
The footsteps stayed steady. Unapologetic. Closer. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she whispered, "Someone's following me."
A weighted silence hung between them, brief but loaded with tension. Ben didn't panic or ask unnecessary questions. Instead, he flipped a switch, his voice dropping into a calm, steady cadence that became a lifeline for her frayed nerves.
"Okay. Listen to me." The words were firm, absolute, demanding her attention.
He didn't doubt or hesitate. Simply took control of the situation. "I need you to breathe, Katherine."
She tried, but her body betrayed her, shaking too hard to draw a full breath. His voice, however, anchored her, grounding in the midst of her spiraling panic.
"Again," he coaxed, his tone gentler now, encouraging her.
She inhaled, the breath shallow but present—something for Ben to work with.
Kath's pulse thundered in her ears, legs tight with tension as she glanced over her shoulder again. The voice in her phone cut through the rising panic—not gentle, not soft, but anchored. Solid.
His words weren’t a suggestion. They hit her nervous system like orders—and her body responded before her brain caught up.
She obeyed.
"Keep walking. Stay in the light. Don't stop."
Her voice emerged as a terrified whisper, cracking under the weight of her fear. "I don't know where to go."
Ben didn't allow her to spiral further into panic. "Yes, you do. Just listen to me."
On the other end of the line, she heard the unmistakable sounds of Ben taking action. His chair scraped back aggressively, papers scattering in his haste. The door to his office flew open with a bang.
"Patty—cancel the rest of my meetings. Tonight. Everything."
Kath continued walking, her steps unsteady but propelled forward by Ben's unwavering guidance. The sounds of his movements filled her ear—footsteps, elevator, a door slamming shut, the deep rumble of the parking garage, and finally, the click of his car unlocking and the engine roaring to life.
She didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Her breath snagged in her throat as she focused on walking, staying in the pools of light cast by the streetlamps.
With each step, the panic that had gripped her loosened its hold, replaced by a sense of determination fueled by Ben's unwavering presence. She wasn't alone anymore—he was coming for her, and somehow, that knowledge made her feel safe.
Katherine faltered, her steps stuttering against the pavement as the gravity of her situation pressed down on her shoulders like a physical weight.
But Ben's voice—that low, steady timbre crackling through the phone—became her lifeline in the encroaching darkness, each word a gentle command that propelled her forward when her own courage threatened to abandon her. "Keep moving. I'm coming."
She kept walking. Street after street. The footsteps behind her seemed to echo louder with each passing moment, a constant reminder of the danger that stalked her through the night.
She bit down on her lip, the pressure sharp, steady—something to brace against as the trembling threatened to take over.
A thought clawed its way up from the pit of her fear. She’d never said it. Not to him. Not out loud. But it rose in her throat like a scream—raw, exposed, terrifying.
Don't say it. Don't—
"Ben… I—I need you." The words slipped out too fast.
Too honest. Too late.
A beat of silence followed, and for a terrifying moment, Kath wondered if she'd made a mistake, if she'd pushed too far.
Then, she heard it—a growl of tires, acceleration, breathless energy shifting into raw urgency. His voice dropped lower than it had ever been, grounded, dangerous, and utterly focused.
"I'm almost there."
And for one terrifying second, Kath believed him.
She believed that when he got there, everything would stop hurting. She let herself believe he’d get there in time. That his presence could silence the fear clawing at her chest.
Because in that moment, with Ben's voice in her ear and his promise echoing in her mind, she felt something she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time—hope.
Kath forced herself to slow—just enough to glance over her shoulder.
The man was closer than she thought. Much closer.
Too close.
A sound tore from her throat—a broken, breathless sob, raw with panic. Her steps faltered, legs trembling beneath her. The street stretched endless ahead of her, every step heavier than the last.
No cover. No help. No time.
Then—movement.
Her breath caught. He was here.
Relief surged like a wave, overwhelming and instant.
That she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
She was safe now. He’d never let anything happen to her.
Safety. Familiarity. Something solid. And suddenly, she didn’t want to be brave anymore.
Her fingers loosened around the phone. It slid into her bag like an afterthought. Still tethered to Ben. But the line didn’t matter. Not in that moment.
She moved before she thought.
Crossed the distance. Closed the space. No words. No plan.
She reached for him—not careful, not composed. Just raw. Human. Desperate. She collided with him like gravity had pulled her there. Arms around him, breath tight in her throat. She held on like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
Joshua wrapped her up without question. His arms came around her—tight, grounding, there.
And that was it. That was the moment.
She broke. Quietly. Completely. No sobs. Just sharp, shaking breaths against his chest, her hands gripping his jacket like she might fall through the ground. She hated it. Hated needing this. Hated how her body refused to let go.
And Joshua? He didn’t flinch, didn’t ask. He just held her like he'd done it a thousand times.