“Good.” He takes the tracker from my hands. “I’m going to keep this as evidence. Don’t go anywhere alone for a little while, okay? Call me if you need anything. Even if it seems small or stupid. I mean it.”
"Thank you. For believing me. For not thinking I'm crazy."
“Of course.”
Hearing someone say it out loud—someone who isn't telling me I'm overreacting—makes something in my chest loosen.
As I drive to work with the spare tire, my mind is racing. Lance has been tracking me. He knows everywhere I go, everyone I see. The library, the coffee shop, probably even when I go to Madison’s house.
Everything makes sense now. How he knew to show up at the library. How my mother found me at Cozy Cup. Lance told her exactly where I'd be because he'd been watching the tracker. How he knew about my grandmother's house. The black SUV following me.
All of it. He orchestrated all of it.
He’s been watching me this whole time, collecting information, and I had no idea.
But now we have evidence. Real, physical proof that I’m not imagining things.
Maybe this nightmare is finally going to end.
Chapter 22
Sawyer
Duringmylunchbreak,I decide to swing by Alice’s house to check on her after what happened this morning with the tracker. I know she usually goes home for lunch when she’s not at the coffee shop, and finding that device really shook her up. Maybe I’m being overprotective, but something about this whole situation has my instincts on high alert.
I pull into her driveway and immediately notice Alice’s front door is standing wide open. That’s not right. Alice would never leave her door open, especially not after finding a tracker on her car this morning.
Something’s wrong.
I get out of my patrol car and approach the house carefully, my training kicking in. As I get closer, I can hear voices from inside. Alice’s voice, high and scared, and a man’s voice, angry and loud.
“You think you can just run away from me?" The voice is familiar—Lance. "Moving to a new town doesn't change anything. You're still mine.”
Son of a bitch.
I move quickly to the doorway and see them in the living room. The sharp scent of fear cuts through the house's usual vanilla smell. Alice is pressed back against her bookshelf, and Lance has her by the wrist, gripping it hard enough that I can see her wincing. Her glasses are askew, and there are already books scattered on the floor.
“Let me go!” Alice shouts, trying to pull away.
“You’re mine, Alice. You will always be mine.” Lance tightens his grip, and I can see her face contort in pain. “And that tracker? You had no right to take that off. I have the right to know where you are at all times.”
That’s when I see him raise his other hand like he’s going to hit her.
Not on my watch. Not ever.
“Police! Let her go!”
Lance spins toward me, still holding Alice’s wrist. For a split second, I see genuine surprise cross his face, then rage. “Officer Edwards. How convenient.”
“It is when someone's breaking the law.” I step into the room, hand moving instinctively toward my weapon.
“What are you going to do?” Lance’s face is red with rage, but there’s calculation there too. “You’ll shoot me? Over her? Your career won’t survive that kind of scandal.”
Instead of letting go, he jerks Alice closer to him, making her stumble. She’s trying not to cry, but I can see the terror in her golden-brown eyes.God, the fear in her eyes.I should have done more to protect her. Should have seen this coming.
“Last warning,” I say, moving closer but keeping my voice level. “Let. Her. Go.”
Lance laughs, but it’s not a pleasant sound. “You think you can just take what’s mine? I know everywhere she goes, everyone she talks to. Including you, Sawyer. I can destroy your career before it even gets started. You’ll never be anything more than a patrol officer after I’m done with you.”
