Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Roman peered at Rina, curled up in the corner of the couch, her face pale and drawn. Her teeth were buried in her lower lip, making her look incredibly vulnerable. Part of him wanted to comfort her, but he had a hunch it was the last thing she’d want.
Things had been awkward between them ever since the night he’d brought her home from the bar, and he had a gut feeling that was part of the reason she’d wanted a new agent to watch over her.
Things had never been great between them, but he felt bad for her.
She’d been through a lot recently, some of which she’d just learned.
He couldn’t believe that idiot manager of hers hadn’t said anything.
He knew all of the notes had gone to the studio, but he thought they’d at least informed Rina of the contents.
From the look on her face when Knox showed her the latest addition, she’d been completely blindsided.
The blood had drained from her face, and her eyes had gone round as saucers.
He thought for a minute that she might pass out, but she’d managed to pull herself together.
Finally, he could no longer stand it. “Hey.” He waited until her gaze lifted to his. “They’ll find him, you know.”
Her eyes immediately dropped back to her lap, where she picked at a loose thread on her leggings. “I just don’t understand. Like…” She peered helplessly at him. “Did I do something to encourage him?”
“I seriously doubt it. And even if you did”—he locked eyes with her—“no one deserves this.”
She tried for a little smile but failed miserably, her eyes sad. “I’ve been racking my brain, trying to think of who it could be, but…” She lifted her hands, fingers splayed wide. “I just don’t know who would do something like this.”
“It may not be anyone you know,” he replied. “There’s no specific definition for obsession.”
He’d been reading up on it over the past few days, ever since that last note had arrived.
It’d been particularly gory and graphic, citing various ways in which he planned to kill her.
Whoever was behind this had obviously done a lot of research, because the letter was incredibly detailed.
It still made his stomach turn thinking about it.
“You may have met him once, or it could be someone you’ve known your entire life. Who knows?” He shrugged. “It’s up to the police to figure out the who and why of it. It’s my job to keep you safe in the meantime.”
“I know.” She sighed, then leaned one elbow on the arm of the couch and propped her head on her hand. “And I appreciate it—really. I just wish they could hurry up and find the guy.”
“Maybe he’ll slip up, and they’ll catch him.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced, though, and for several minutes, they lapsed into silence.
He sneaked peeks at her from time to time, but she just stared off into space, seemingly a thousand miles away. He checked his phone and noticed the time. The next patrol should be coming through soon, and he wanted to do a perimeter check of the property just in case.
He pushed to his feet. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”
Rina nodded but didn’t respond, and he headed out the front door, locking up behind him.
His truck was parked in Rina’s driveway once more, a bright red beacon to let everyone know he was there.
He made a sweep of the yard, checking for anything out of place, any evidence that someone had been there recently, but there was nothing.
He checked the windows accessible from the outside again, but everything was locked up tight, just as it had been that morning.
The locksmith wasn’t able to come out until the next morning, so he’d blocked the side entrance to the garage in the meantime. Rina had changed the code for the front door, and as of right now, she and he were the only two who had access to it.
He was still livid that someone had bled her brakes. The more he thought about it, the more he believed it had been done in her garage. If someone had opened the bleeder valve while she’d been out somewhere, fluid would have drained from the lines each time she’d pressed the brake while driving.
She couldn’t have made it very far without running out of fluid completely and losing all stopping power.
More than likely, she would have remembered a change in pressure the last time she’d driven her car, but she remained adamant that everything had been fine.
And he believed her. Which sucked even more, because it meant that her accident was his fault.
Just as he rounded the side of the house, the sound of a car cruising slowly up Rina’s street caught his attention. He saw the distinctive light bar of the cruiser approaching, and he headed out to the street to meet the officer.
The officer slowed to a stop and rolled his window down just as he stepped off the curb. “Are you with Ms. Sterling?”
“I am.” He held out a hand. “Roman Incardona with Vantage Security.”
“Reimer.” They shook hands, then the officer pointed to her house. “Nothing yet?”
“Nope, everything’s been quiet.” He didn’t truly expect anything less. Unless the person lived close by, he had a feeling he wouldn’t strike again until he’d heard news of her accident.
Reimer bobbed his head. “I’m on ‘til eleven, so I’ll keep an eye out.”
He stepped back. “I appreciate it.”
Reimer eased back into the street, and he turned to head back inside.
There, he checked the garage and all of the windows and doors.
Her ranch was a little over a thousand square feet, and it didn’t take long until he was back in the living room seated across from Rina.
It was going on dinnertime, and he couldn’t remember her eating anything that day, with the exception of a pre-workout smoothie that morning.
“You hungry?”
She gave her head a little shake. “I’m good.”
He eyed her. “You need to eat something.”
Her gaze flicked to his, the blue depths stormy and shadowed. “I don’t know if I can,” she finally admitted. “I still feel kind of sick to my stomach.”
He understood, but she didn’t need to pass out on top of everything else. “Something light, then,” he said, pushing from the couch. “Got any salad mix?”
He was sure she did, since it seemed to be the only thing she ate half the time.
He had chicken breasts stashed away, and he was already pulling them out by the time she walked into the kitchen behind him.
They never actually sat down to eat dinner together, instead keeping to themselves.
He had no idea if she was a vegetarian or not, because he’d never seen her eat meat of any kind.
He held up the chicken. “Will you eat this?”
“As long as it’s not fried.”
“Good enough for me.” He pulled a knife from the butcher’s block and gestured toward the table situated in the breakfast nook. “Sit.”
Her lips turned down at his command, but she seemed too emotionally drained to do anything other than follow his directive.
He worked in silence, searing the chicken then tossing it with the salad. He slid a plate in front of Rina and handed her a fork before taking the seat across from her. She twirled the fork in her hand, then finally speared a piece of lettuce and lifted it to her lips.
She was never this quiet. She avoided him most of the time, yes, but she was never afraid to talk back or challenge him in some way. Tonight, she was pensive, deep in thought.
He lifted a brow. “You good?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Just thinking.”
Probably about the situation at hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
“I was wondering…” She rolled her lips together. “If there might be a way to… deter him.”
He speared her with a glance. “If you’re thinking of doing something stupid, like using yourself for bait, you can throw that out the window right now.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I was thinking.”
“Good, because it’s not gonna happen.”
She ran her tongue over the front of her teeth in agitation, then set her fork down and leaned forward in her seat. “So… this guy’s obsessed with me.”
“It would appear that way. Why? What are you thinking?”
“What if I was no longer available?”
He lifted a brow. “That may not deter him. That might piss him off even more and make him lash out.”
“Maybe, but at least he’d be doing something instead of silently watching,” she pointed out. “Like you said, he’ll eventually slip up and get caught.”
“All right, I’ll bite.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, let’s say you spin this story that you have a boyfriend.
You’d have to go public with it to make sure he sees the two of you together.
Who are you going to use? One of your musician buddies?
The person writing these letters threatened to kill anyone in his way. Are you gonna put him in jeopardy?”
She flinched at his words and her face fell, but knowing he’d made his point brought no satisfaction. “Listen,” he said more softly. “Just let the police do their job. They’ll catch him. It’ll just take some time.”
Her wide blue eyes clashed with his, full of desperation. “What if it was more permanent? Like… a serious relationship?”
He dropped his hands to rest in his lap. “Same boat. You’re still putting someone else in danger. Or, even if it did scare this guy off, the relationship would have to last long enough that the guy would forget all about you and fixate on something—someone—else.”
She licked her lips. “How long?”
“I don’t know. Six months? A year?”
To that, she said nothing. After a long moment, he picked up his fork and resumed eating. He was almost done with his salad before she spoke again.
“Roman? I mean… Ink.”
“Yeah?” The nickname seemed strange coming from her. She was one of the few people who called him Roman, and he actually preferred the sound of his real name falling from her pretty lips.
Her gaze was pinned to the glass of water beside her plate, and it slowly rose to his. “Um…”
He lifted his brows in question, and her cheeks flared bright pink. She looked shy and almost… guilty?