I fire off a shot, barely nicking the target, and give a dramatic sigh. “Wow, so hard. Maybe I’ll just throw rocks instead.”
He nods. He’s weirdly calm and patient; it’s freaking me out. “Try again. Take your time.”
I roll my shoulders, then shoot three bullseyes in a row. Kaden’s eyebrows go up. I give him my best cheesy grin and salacious wink. “Beginner’s luck?”
We chuckle and spend another hour shooting at different targets. Just for a second, I let myself enjoy the afternoon—the air is chilly, but it’s freeing. Being out in the wild, imagining this is what my life is actually like.
My shoulders arerelaxed and my breathing is even. The usual tension I carry in my entire being isn’t there. I know it’s just for a brief moment but my soul untethered to my shitty reality. And I can’t wait until this feeling is my everyday reality.
It will be,one day soon. I am manifesting that shit with every breath that I take.
6
Kaden
I’m back at the Burke estate for another day of babysitting. The drive up felt longer than usual, the sky overcast, everything looking dull and just slightly miserable.
Marcus makes it clear upon my arrival that I’m not to let Ashleigh out of my sight. Apparently, the stalker has upped the ante by sending photos. Unfortunately they were dropped into the letter box by hand. Hope for clues went out of the window quickly; no prints and no description from the surveillance video.
Whoever it was, they were good and far too careful for a low level threat.
I’ve been sitting in the ornate living room for the past half hour, staring holes in the very expensive wallpaper and getting high off the scent of lemon cleaner. A clock on the mantel ticks away the minutes, echoing through my mind and driving me to the edge of insanity.
A maid enters the living room, bringing in a tray with a delicate porcelain teapot and two cups, the tea steaming gently. Her footsteps are nearly silent on the thick carpet. She asks if Ineed anything before leaving, but I decline, watching the door close behind her as the faint aroma of black tea and bergamot lingers in the air.
Ashleigh swans in, followed closely by another man. He stands tall and proud, his designer suit perfectly pressed, shoes gleaming, and his hair meticulously styled with not a strand out of place. His cologne reaches me before he does—something sharp and expensive. Everything about him radiates the kind of privilege that could only be inherited, not earned. His eyes flicker over me, assessing, dismissing, in a single sweep.
I know immediately this is Ashleigh’s pompous ass fiancé, Owen Bedford.
“Owen,” Ashleigh nods, her voice carefully neutral.
Owen offers a quick, disinterested handshake. “So you’re the security friend that Marcus brought in?” he says, glancing at me as if sizing up a new accessory. “Ashleigh’s told me… well, not much, actually.”
“Nice to meet you.” Even though I’m lying through my teeth, I force a small, polite smile.
Owen’s gaze drifts away almost instantly as he adjusts the cufflinks on his sleeve. “I barely had time to make it today. The traffic was insufferable, but I’m meeting with Marcus over business matters.”
Ashleigh stands beside him, silent, her eyes fixed on the floor. I can see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers clench at her side.
Before the awkwardness can deepen, Owen’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen and sighs dramatically. “Excuse me. Important call. Ashleigh, don’t forget about the dinner next week. You’ll need a dress.”
He strides away, already talking with the phone glued to his ear. Ashleigh watches him go, her expression still unreadable.
“How much does he know about the incoming threats?”
“Not much. Father didn’t want anyone to know.”
“You’re late, by the way.” To which Ashleigh simply rolls her eyes. “Your tea will be getting cold.”
We take our seats and pour the tea. The china clinks quietly, the faintest wisp of steam curling above the cups. Ashleigh sits across from me, her posture perfect, but I catch the way her foot taps restlessly beneath the table.
Quickly, I switch gears. I didn’t come here for a fucking tea party. I need to get to the bottom of what Ashleigh knows. “I know you’ve made it clear that you have no friends or past lovers with a grudge against you. But the threats are still coming and escalating. Is there anyone that you’re suspicious of?”
“No. I’ve told you. I don’t know who’s behind this.”
“What about Owen? You’ve been engaged for a year. What do you know about him?”
“Probably less than you. I’m guessing you’ve got a file on him somewhere.” Ashleigh shrugs nonchalantly, as if she’s not even interested.
