“She is.”
I open the folder.
Doe-eyed Pix looks back at me.
My chest tightens, sharp, like a rib caught in a vise.
Gabe exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “If Ava knew I was talking to anyone about this, she’d kill me. She’s stubborn like that.”
Who’s he telling?
“I thought I could handle it. Just an overeager fan. How tough can that be, right?” Gabe blows out a breath, short and bitter. “But this guy’s slick.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Ava’s stalker.”
The word hits like an ax to the chest.
We don’t do small-time threats. We do global recon. Multi-million-dollar clients. Problems that require clearance levels and private airstrips. Suddenly, this room makes sense.
Gabe is one of us.
So is his family.
And nobody fucks with us.
“He’s been smart enough to get in and out of…” Gabe trails off, frustration strangling the sentence.
“Out of where?” Brian asks, leaning forward.
“Fucking everywhere.” His voice roughens. “Her secure trailer. Her gym locker. Her goddamned car. Taking trophies. Leaving messages.”
“What messages?” Zac asks.
Gabe hesitates.
Mark doesn’t. “It’s all in the file.”
I flip through it.
The words hit in pulses, emotion surging like adrenaline.
I’m watching you.
I like the smell of your shampoo.
You should be nicer to me. I’d hate to get rough with you.
Your panties make me hard.
I stop breathing for a second.
“I tried setting up cameras,” Gabe insists. “Heat sensors. Everything I could think of. But the fucker has gone dark. It’s been over a day now. Not a peep. Like he’s a ghost. Or, he’s playing with me.”
Something clicks.
I sit straighter.
