Chapter 13
My phone lights up in the darkness of my room, and I roll over in bed to grab it. I’m not surprised when I see notifications for a few missed calls and texts from Aaron, but I bypass all of that for the text that just came through from Ryan.
Ryan
Are you actually writing yet or are you still getting distracted by the pretty lady you’re living with?
I roll my eyes, annoyed that he’s not entirely wrong.
The woman is a walking distraction. Made worse by the fact she doesn’t even need to be in my vicinity for my mind to wander.
The truth is, while I’ve seen and spoken to her every day since I arrived, we’ve still barely spent more than twelve hours in each other’s presence. Four days with open access to her house, and I’m amazed we haven’t run into each other more.
Not that I’m trying to invade her space. I don’t know if I’d actually be able to play as much as I have if she were home more. She wouldn’t ask me to stop, but I already feel guilty being in her space; it’d be so much worse intruding on her limited alone time.
The woman works harder than anyone I know, and my parents worked their asses off to give me everything I needed to achieve my goals—both of them working two jobs at some points to have the money to spend on my music lessons.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s avoiding me, but then I see her busting her butt around the property or with her family and I know her avoidance isn’t purposeful—she’s just that busy.
Forgetting about my slight obsession with the woman next door, I focus back on the text and respond to the only part I can argue.
I’m not living with her, jerk.
Ryan
But you are stalking her…
I flinch at the word choice.
There was a time where I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but considering Ian had to rush out of here earlier this week to deal with my stalker, I can’t stomach the joke.
Let’s pick a different word. I don’t like that one anymore.
The text barely goes through before my phone rings, Ryan’s name popping up at the top of my screen.
I throw the covers off and move to sit on the edge of the bed, knowing there’s no going back to sleep now. Not that I expected that to happen with the dreams that woke me. Ones that had me reaching for my aching cock.
“You didn’t have to call,” I answer, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the nightstand to pull on a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt before moving downstairs.
“I know, but I figured this was so much more convenient than texting.”
“How long have you been up?” I ask, moving to the coffee pot to get it started.
“I’m not sure I really ever went to bed.”
My spine stiffens and I stop messing with the coffee to give him my undivided attention. “What’s going on?”
“That’s not why I called—”
“I don’t care,” I interrupt. “Not everything is about me. You’ve been home for over a week and now you’re not sleeping at all. What’s going on, man?”
“A lot,” Ryan mumbles, the words not meant for me. “But I’m honestly not ready to talk about it. I’m heading back to the city later today for some work commitments, so things will get back to normal soon.”
“Ryan—”
“Beck, I swear, when I’m ready to talk about it, I will. Until then, I just need to process it on my own.”
“Okay.” I sigh, disliking that I don’t know what else to do for him.
I want to push him, but I also know he’s telling the truth, and respecting that is the best way for me to show my support.
“So…” Ryan releases on a breath. “Is there stalker news?”
It’s rare Ryan and I don’t talk at least once a day, even if only over text.
The fact that it’s been a few days since we’ve talked should have been a bigger red flag something’s going on with him.
But I can’t lie and say I haven’t been distracted here—not that it’s an excuse to forget about my best friend.
“Nothing substantial.” I press the start button on the coffee maker and move toward the bathroom. “Ian rushed out of here early Friday morning after one of his team members called him about an incident at my apartment.”
There was a lot about the situation that surprised me.
When I called Ian asking him to help coordinate getting my instruments delivered to me, I assumed he’d send someone from his team or hire a service to get them to me. I was shocked to open the door Wednesday morning to find Ian standing there.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised.
I’m sure he did a thorough investigation on the whole town with a special focus on The Lantern Inn before he ever agreed I could come here by myself.
He might’ve even visited the place, but scoping out the area and seeing me here are two very different things.
What surprised me most was the fact he planned on staying through the weekend.
Madison didn’t even bat an eye, immediately offering Ian a room for his stay.
Not that he took it, choosing instead to sleep on the couch in the cottage.
Better protection, even if there hadn’t been a single incident to think I need it.
“What happened?” I hear the worry in Ryan’s voice and the guilt that I haven’t shown him the same is like a punch to the gut.
Even if I don’t know the details of everything going on with him and his family in Harborview, for both Ryan and Melissa to be there for this long outside of a special event is a big deal. I should have been asking more questions. Checking in with him more. Being the friend he’s always been for me.
“Looks like someone broke in and left me a present.”
“Do I want to know what it was?”
“I don’t know. Ian hasn’t told me yet. He thinks it’s better to let my imagination come up with ideas because I’ll never be able to guess what really happened.
” I drop the phone to the bathroom counter, placing it on mute.
There’s no way that bomb doesn’t make Ryan speechless. I know I was when Ian told me.
The fact he thought my imagination wouldn’t be as bad as the reality chilled me to the bones. What could be so bad that I was better off not knowing? Had my stalker killed someone in my apartment?
I’m right about Ryan being speechless. It’s not till I’m drying my hands and face that his voice comes through the speaker.
“You can’t be serious.” His words are so soft, I almost miss them.
Grabbing the phone, I take the call off mute and make my way back to the coffee pot. “I wish I was.”
“That’s big. Ian isn’t one to keep things from you. Aaron would, but not Ian.”
“I’m pretty sure Aaron was there and that’s why he didn’t tell me. Ian’s supposed to give me a call later today to discuss next steps. I think he’ll have to tell me at that point.”
The coffee maker beeps, but I don’t move. Ryan’s silent on his end of the phone, the only sound around me is the trickling drips of coffee into the pot.
“Are you staying in town?” Ryan asks, his words gentle, like he’s afraid he’s going to ruin something.
“I don’t have any plans to leave at the moment, but I guess that will all depend on the conversation with Ian.”
I don’t want to leave Stonebridge Hollow or The Lantern Inn; not when I’m only just starting to find my joy in writing music again. Not when I’m finally starting to feel alive again and for the first time in twenty years.
“Do you want me to come visit? I can push off the work stuff. Maybe it would be safer for you if someone else is there?”
“Let’s not go changing plans until I talk to Ian about everything.” I grab a mug from the cabinet above the coffee maker and pour myself a cup before moving to the cottage door. “It’s a long shot, but maybe he’s blowing things out of proportion.”
“That’s definitely wishful thinking on your part,” Ryan draws, laughter edging his voice.
The sight of frost on the grass and the bite of the air makes me pause. It’s not the first frost of the season—far from it, actually—but it’s the first time I could swear it feels more like winter than fall.
It’s early still, more than an hour till sunrise and the chill in the air should make me stay inside, but something pulls me onto the porch, the phone held to my ear in one hand and the steaming cup of coffee in the other.
Ryan and I are silent, knowing he’s not wrong. Ian doesn’t blow things out of proportion. The man served in the Navy for over twenty years and knows how to operate under the highest of pressures. I don’t think he knows how to make a big deal out of anything.
A beep sounds in my ear, and as I pull the phone away, Ian’s name shows on the screen. “That’s Ian calling me now.”
“He’s calling early,” Ryan murmurs, more to himself than me, but he’s quick to continue, knowing I need to get off the phone. “You’ll call me later to fill me in?”
“Yeah. I’ll let you know what happens.”
“Stay safe.” Then he’s gone.
My eyes wander to the house next door, wondering where Madison is. It’s about the time she’d normally be heading out for her run, but the house is dark and silent.
I’m so lost in thought and distracted, I miss picking up the initial call from Ian. It’s not till I feel the vibration in my hand that I remember he’s the reason I got off the phone with Ryan in the first place.
“Sorry,” I answer. “I was on with Ryan when you called.”
“It’s fine. I wasn’t positive you’d be up, but figured I’d take a chance.” There’s no warmth in his voice, and I know he’s in operator mode.
I don’t need to see Ian to know just how serious this is. “Just hit me with it,” I tell him, not wanting to beat around the bush.
Up until this point, we thought my apartment was secure. While things were delivered to the building, there’d been no indication my stalker knew which apartment I was in.
Ian and his team had scoured the security footage, looking for clues and slip-ups, but nothing came up.
Whoever my stalker was knew what they were doing and paid attention to the comings and goings over everyone in my building.
Every package was left at the front desk, just as the concierge stepped away—either running something up to another resident or letting a guest into the secure areas of the building.
That’s the thing about my building, the only way around is with a security card.
Guests are escorted by residents or staff in order to get past the welcome area, and guests aren’t granted access unless they are pre-approved.
If someone shows up without advance notice, then a resident has to come down.
In theory, the only way my stalker made it up to my apartment was with the help of another resident or someone on staff at the building.
Thinking through everything logically, I’m safer if I stay in Stonebridge Hollow than returning home, but moments like these aren’t filled with logical thought. They’re filled with emotion.
“How much do you want to know?” Ian asks.
“All of it.” The response is instant. No matter what he tells me, I’ve been through worse.
“It’s safe to say we’re dealing with an intimacy seeking stalker, probably an erotomaniac.”
My stomach clenches at the words. I don’t know what they actually mean, but I can take an educated guess.
“You’re going to need to buy new underwear, and you might want a new bed.”
“What?” I gasp, bile rising in my throat at thought of why that would be necessary.
“They stole your underwear and then left you quite the collection of their own. Unused, or at least washed, if it makes it any better, but—”
“Okay,” I rush to say, wanting to stop him before he can say anything else. “I changed my mind, I don’t want to know the specifics. Just tell me if this gets us any closer to figuring out who my stalker is.”
“Unfortunately, we aren’t. Whoever it is stayed off the cameras. Every single one of them.” The words are clipped, and I can easily imagine Ian getting ready to head to the gym so he can work out his frustration.
“How?”
“I don’t know, Beck, but this changes things. Either your stalker has a lot more skill than we thought or they’ve got someone on your team helping them.”
“You don’t think it could be someone on staff at the building?”
“It’s possible, but they didn’t just make it into the secure area of the building, they had a key to your apartment.”
Lights start to show from the windows at Madison’s, and I can’t stop my thoughts from drifting to what this means for my stay in Stonebridge Hollow.
“If I stay here, am I putting this town in danger?’” Am I putting Madison in danger?
“That depends. Was there anything in your apartment that would tell someone where you went?”
“No. Nothing. I never even looked the place up. Ryan gave my number to Wyatt, and I only texted with him about it.”
“You’re positive? You didn’t have a brochure? You didn’t write the address or name of the place down?”
I give myself a moment to think, but the answer’s easy. I didn’t have a reason to write anything down. “No. Wyatt sent me the name and address in a text. I looked up the directions on my phone and then put the address into the GPS on my 4Runner. There’s no paper trail.”
Ian’s quiet, and I have no doubt he’s analyzing everything he knows about the situation, wanting to make sure he gives me the best advice he can.
His job is to protect me, but just like I’d never forgive myself if something happened to someone because of my actions, he’d never forgive himself if he told me to stay and someone else got hurt.
“For now, you’re probably safest staying where you are, but we’re going to increase our check-ins, and you have to be careful with where you go and what you do around town.”
“Are you saying I can’t leave the cottage?”
“No,” Ian rushes to say. “But pay attention to who’s paying attention to you.”
The scoff that slips from my throat isn’t intentional, but I couldn’t have stopped it if I wanted to. I’ve been in town for over a week and I’ve made it a point to be seen in town every day. I figure the more people see me the less of a curiosity I’ll be, but so far that logic hasn’t been working.
“Ian, I wish people didn’t pay attention to me—”
“But that’s not who you are,” Ian interrupts, finishing my thought for me. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. Eventually the star power will wear off.”
“Hopefully,” I murmur, my eyes trained on the front door of the house across the way.
I’d never forgive myself if anyone in my vicinity got hurt due to some crazy stalker, but for someone like Madison—a woman more selfless than I’ve ever met—I don’t know what I’d do.
“I’m gonna let you go. Digest everything for a bit. Call me later if you need to talk more, but I want to hear from you tomorrow, no matter what.” Ian’s words are firm, no room for argument, not that I was planning to.
“I will,” I mutter absentmindedly. My thoughts entirely focused on the woman next door.
I don’t want her to be in danger, but I’m not ready to pull away from her either.
What the hell am I supposed to do?