“I’ll look into it, but you’re probably right, Liv. A grown man who preys on teenagers would likely lose interest the older his target gets. Even if he wasn’t caught in the act andpunished for it, he would have probably moved on to another young victim once he got what he wanted from you,” Malec says, and I realize that he knows a lot more than I thought.
“I didn’t have any other boyfriends. Hayes was practically my only friend until he wasn’t. Are we finished? I need to get to work.” I glance coldly at Hayes across the porch. I feel like I’m being blamed for everything all over again.
As if I asked to have a stalker.
As if I asked to have a teacher prey on me when I was 17.
Or have the boy I was in love with go to prison for protecting me.
“I’ll get with you after I look into your old teacher, and I’ll look at the security tapes from the bar on Saturday in case someone stands out. Keep close to Hayes, though, for the time being.”
I smile stiffly at Malec because I know he’s only doing his job, but I really don’t want to be around either of these men right now.
“Hayes, don’t have a stroke,” he bids his farewell to him over his shoulder before walking back to his cruiser, and Hayes gives him the middle finger. “I saw that!” He yells.
Chapter Thirty-One
Hayes
The door clicks shut behind my back as Liv drops her briefcase on her desk. “Are you going to be in your office for a while?”
“Oh, he speaks. I thought you forgot I was here.”
I was stewing in quiet rage the entire drive here, but she should know better. She always stays at the forefront of my thoughts.
“Do you have any appointments? Or will you be in here for a while?” I repeat my question, ignoring her remark as tension rolls across my shoulder blades.
Reading that note has me keyed up, and I haven’t been able to squash it.
“I’m catching up on emails and paperwork all morning,” she sighs, rolling her chair under her desk.
My fingers work the button of my shirt, loosening my collar so I can crack my neck properly. I lose the jacket next, throwing it on the fake leather couch that sits off to the side, acting as decoration more than anything.
The cushion barely gives when I sit on it. Bracing my elbows on my knees, I rub my hands roughly over my facebefore undoing the buttons at my wrists and rolling my sleeves up my forearms.
Liv peers at me over her laptop, her eyebrows quirked in question. I never sit.
I’ve never removed my jacket or acted anything less than professional in this setting. I’ve always respected her workspace, but I feel like I’m going to implode.
“I’ll fix myself before you have to leave the office,” I assure her, staring at my clasped hands in front of me.
“I’m not worried about that.”
I glance at her, and she tips her laptop screen down to see me clearly. “I just need a minute to collect my thoughts. I’m fine.”
“You need to punch someone,” she scoffs sarcastically.
“Yeah, you have someone in mind?” I look at her seriously, and her eyes narrow.
“I don’t know who is stalking me, Hayes. I don’t know what you want from me!”
“I know!” I launch up from my seat and stalk to the window, bracing my hands on the windowsill. “I’m sorry. I’m losing my mind here, Liv. How am I supposed to keep you safe if I don’t even know who I’m protecting you from?”
“You stay close,” she says softly, grabbing my arm. Her hand on my bicep is an anchor, keeping me sane and bringing me back to earth.
Her ringless finger stares at me like a beacon of hope. She’s still Olive Greenwood, so for now, she’s still mine. Whether she believes that or not.
“Is that what you want? I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped. I know how that feels… ”
