Everyone’s eyes swing our way, and Stella’s eyes zero in on the wet spot on my boobs. “What happened?”
“Uh…” I glance down. “Is it that bad?”
“Yeah, babe. I can see your nipples,” Brooklyn adds unhelpfully.
I can feel the blush spread across my cheeks. “Great.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Start from the top,” Journey says, lifting his hat off his head only to put it back on again. “Tell me everything that’s happened.”
I puff out my cheeks to keep from asking him if that’s a nervous tick.
Focus, dummy. He wants to know everything.
I think back to when I got the first notification. It feels like it’s been a lot longer than just a few weeks. “Well…” I pull my bangle bracelets up my wrist and look at the wall instead of him, because looking at him makes it harder to think straight. “It started about a month ago, I guess. Messages. On Tokker.” I glance over at him. “That’s the app I?—”
He rolls his eyes and waves me off. “I know what Tokker is.”
Stella shoots her brother a glare.
“Right.” I clear my throat. Of course. Everyone knows what Tokker is. “Anyway, they were weird at first, the messages I mean. It was harmless stuff.”
“That said what…?” He lifts a brow.
Right. I shake my head. He wants to know everything. “Uhm, they said stuff like how they felt connected to me, and how they hated missing my livestream that day. I didn’t think anything about it. I mean, they were harmless, right?”
His gaze shifts to the bright red proof that they werenotharmless.
“Yeah.” I exhale heavily. “Anyways, then came the creepy ones. Those I knew were crossing a line. That’s when I started blocking the accounts, but this guy or whoever kept making new ones.” I pause, thinking how today things got even worse. “Then this morning, before I even left the apartment, he mentioned my window.” I gesture toward the curtains I pulled shut hours ago and still haven’t opened. “Said he could see my hair in thesunlight.” A shiver races up my spine. “Then, when we were grabbing coffee, I got another DM and felt like someone was watching me. That’s why we came back here,” I clarify.
“That was smart.” He nods.
For some reason him saying that makes me feel a little better. Like maybe my survival skills aren’t complete shit.
“Which is when we found this.” Stella sweeps her arm out, indicating the destruction around us.
With his arms crossed over his chest, Journey glances around the room again like this new information will somehow show him something.
“It’s bad, right?” I glance around the loft, wondering if he thinks it’s as bad as I do.
He moves to the message on the wall. His fingers ghost over the crooked letters.
“It’s—” his words are cut off by the sound of boots tromping up the stairs.
Oh god. My hands start to shake. Is whoever broke in coming back? Journey and Bax must think the same thing because they pull out their guns and aim at the empty doorway.
“What the hell?” Brooklyn hisses, dropping down behind the shredded sofa like she’s expecting a freaking shootout to happen at any second.
Wait. Is a shootout about to happen?
Oh shit. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
The sound gets louder, then, suddenly, a large man in a King’s cut is standing in my doorway. His wide eyes flick between Journey and Bax, and the guns in their hands. “Whoa! Don’t shoot!”
“Jesus,” Journey hisses, lowering his weapon. “What are you doing here, Prez?”
Prez?
My eyes fly to the patch on the big man’s vest. Sure enough. President. Kings of Anarchy MC. He’s got black hair streaked with silver at the temples and striking blue eyes. He’s hot for an older guy.
