Because it hadn’t beenjusta kiss. It had been the kind ofkiss that rewired your brain. That pulled secrets from your bones. The kind of kiss that changed things.
Thatmeantsomething.
And that terrified me.
It wasn’t just the fact that it crossed a professional line—though it did. It was the weight behind it. The magnetic pull that told me this was bigger than chemistry.
It felt like a beginning. A dangerous one.
And now, going home to an empty house only made everything worse.
Phoenix had been right—I needed better locks, floodlights, maybe even a firearm. But where did I even start? The police still hadn’t given me an update on the bear or the recorder. No word on whether Andrew’s murder had anything to do with the stranger invading my home and my sanity.
They’d called it a robbery gone wrong. But Phoenix didn’t believe that. And somewhere deep down… neither did I.
My stalker wasn’t just threatening my safety. They were unraveling my independence, one boundary at a time. And Ihatedthat.
It made me think of Phoenix—what it must feel like to have your autonomy ripped from you, piece by piece.
I’m not the only one with trauma in this room.
His words had looped in my mind all day, like a slow-moving storm I couldn’t outrun. He had no idea how right he was. And no idea how much of myself I’d buried to survive.
I rolled to a stop beneath the carport, cut the engine, and sat still for a moment—listening.
Then, suddenly, floodlights flared to life. All around me. One after another. A soft, golden glow illuminated thecarport and the path to the front door—not harsh, not blinding.
Just… safe.
Phoenix.
A slow smile tugged at my lips as I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting to see him there, leaning against the shadows with that impossible gaze.
Had he done this?
I grabbed my purse, briefcase, and the empty coffee mug I’d clung to all day, and stepped out into the crisp air. The wind brushed past me as I looked around—no car, no tracks, no sign of him.
But itfeltlike him. I knew was responsible for the floodlights—and for making me fall even harder.
The house was dark when I stepped inside. I flicked on the entry light and set everything down on the hall table. My gaze swept the space automatically, but everything was exactly as I’d left it.
The quiet pulsed in my ears as I crossed the living room, flipping on lamps and the television just to fill the space. The muted chatter of the local news trailed behind me, ignored, as I made my way into the kitchen—straight to the liquor cabinet.
I’d just poured a glass of wine when?—
Whack!
My body jolted, sloshing wine on my white blouse.
Anotherwhack… then another.
Startled, I looked toward the sound to the windows that looked out to the backyard.
Anotherwhack.
Wine in hand, I padded into the living room and peered through curtains I’d drawn before leaving that morning.
My heart fell to my feet.
