His hand moved and then twisted in my hair, pulling my head back. I jerked in surprise but couldn’t move my head. “Did you just bite me?” Curiosity and something darker lingered in those eyes.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I also asked you a question.”
His nostrils flared. “What do you know about baking and drugs?”
Not enough. Nothing, actually. “Just that nobody will tell me what’s going on. Nick won’t tell me,” I said in a clear attempt to manipulate him that probably didn’t make sense on any rational level. “Will you?”
“No.” Aiden said the word with a slight yank to my hair. “I will tell you that I bite back.”
I blinked.
“Oh, not now.” He released me and smoothly moved me back behind him on the bike. “And it sure as shit won’t be on your mouth.” Without waiting for a response, he levered up and started the bike, forcing me to grab on as he peeled out of the camping area.
Okay. Everybody I talked to got all cranky when I mentioned baking and drugs. I held on, my mind spinning, as he took me back to my cabin.
Then, with a surprising gentleness, he assisted me from his bike. My knees wobbled for a moment. A buzzing from the car caught my attention. Oh, crap. If I didn’t answer, my dad would go nuts. It had to be him. “Just a sec.” I reached over the closed door and tugged my phone from my purse. “Hi, Dad. Have news?”
“No, honey.” My dad’s voice boomed, but he sounded a little uncertain. “There was no card in the box. Maybe he’s finally given up.”
I couldn’t move. All right. No card? That was almost as frightening as the cards. At least there had been consistency there. “Maybe he’s dead,” I offered.
“I’m hoping. Do you need me to come get you?” my dad asked.
Tears pricked my eyes and I turned to keep Aiden from seeing. “No, Daddy. I’m fine. I promise I’ll call you tomorrow.” We said our goodbyes, and I hurried over to hand Aiden his jacket.
He grasped my chin. “Anna? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I swallowed. Okay. I needed to process this. Then my gaze caught on the narrow silver mailbox next to the garage. “No.” Almost in a daze, I moved for it. It was impossible. For years, Jareth Davey had sent cards to the post office box. Not once, not in college or law school or my summer camps had he found me. My hand shook as I opened the box and drew out my mail. Several bills and a big pink envelope. I swayed.
Aiden was off the bike in a second. “What is that?”
I let everything but the pink envelope drop to the ground. My legs shook harder than my hands as I flipped it over. My name with no return address. It was stamped as being processed in Spokane, which was our closest processing center. “Oh, God.”
Aiden took the envelope to open. I let him. “What is this?” He flipped open a card with flowers and a Happy Anniversary on it. Then he opened the card. Nothing was written inside. “I don’t understand.” But an awareness sparked in his eyes as he put the pieces together. “Anniversary?”
“Yes.” Tears clogged my throat, and I looked wildly around at the peaceful trees on either side of us. “He sends one every year and then also a Christmas card, always postmarked from different places. He sends them to my post office box in Silverville. Never to wherever I’m living at the time.
Aiden’s jaw hardened, and his eyes drew down. “Are you serious?”
Numbly, I nodded. “Yeah.” Jareth Davey knew where I lived. He’d mailed the card from either Timber City, Spokane, or one of the numerous smaller towns around the area that had its mail processed in Spokane.
What was I going to do now?
Aiden shook his head. “Your family hasn’t taken him out?”
I coughed out a laugh. “We can’t find him. The cards have come from Austin, New York, Los Angeles, Denver, Paris, and even Nantucket Island.”
Aiden froze. “Are you kidding?” He turned the envelope over in his hands.
I shook my head.
He looked around as well. “When did the one from Nantucket come?”
I frowned. That was a freaking weird question. “I don’t know. Maybe three years ago?”
Aiden handed over the envelope, his expression harder than iron. “Guess I’m not done saving you, am I?”
Chapter 23
