She closed her eyes, pain skittering through her belly. And maybe some panic.
He touched her hip, and the warmth of his palm seeped through her clothes and into her skin.
“Callie, please, talk to me.” His head lowered, his breath brushing over her skin, making the air hard to move through her chest. “Let me in.”
Her mouth opened and closed, and for a moment, she almost wanted to tell him. For a split second, she wanted to let the truth slip into the air and be a weight they could bear together. But then red flashed in her mind. Crimson red coating her thighs. Staining her sheets.
And the calls to Lock…the calls she’d so desperately needed him to answer. The ones hecouldhave answered.
She stepped away so quickly, her hip hit the small table and the papers fell to the floor.
“Shit.” She crouched and began to pile everything back up. Lock lowered opposite her, and they both reached for the last piece of paper at the same time. Too late, she realized what it was—the note from her stalker. The newest one she’d received yesterday.
Why the hell had she left it out?
He grabbed it first, eyes narrowing as they ran over the writing. “I dream about those green eyes of yours.”
Yep. Another creepy-ass letter from her creepy-ass stalker.
His gaze collided with hers. “Who the hell wrote this?”
“None of your business.” She tried to snatch it from his fingers, but he pulled it away and rose to his feet.
“It is my business becauseyou’remy business. Who wrote it?”
She rose, again trying to grab it from him. Damn the guy for being so tall. “No. I’m not your business. Give it back.”
“Not until you tell me who it’s from.”
“Lock—”
“I’m not leaving until you do.”
Jesus Christ. She massaged her temple. “I don’t know who it’s from. Someone started sending me these notes before we…broke up.”
“What?”
She almost jumped at the shouted word.
“How long before we broke up?” he asked.
“Maybe the last six months of our relationship.”
“And you nevertoldme?”
She straightened. “No, I didn’t. Because you worked a dangerous job, and I didn’t want you to worry about me while you were on a mission. Plus, I knew you would have overreacted.”
His jaw clicked. “It wouldn’t have been an overreaction. You’ve had a fucking stalker for two and a half years.”
“No, they stopped when I left town, and they just started again.”
A vein popped out on his temple. “So, like I said, you’ve had a stalker for two and a half years.”
“They’re just notes.”
Going by the narrowing of his eyes, that was the wrong thing to say. “Have you told Eastern?”
“No. I told the old sheriff, and not only could he not do anything, he didn’t care.”
