“Holy shit! You were sabotaged?”
“Yes. Every strap on my saddle was tampered with.”
She leans back and looks up at the ceiling as the reality hits her. “Let me guess, the police have no clue, so it’s still open and cold by now. I can look into that, no problem. But why don’t you want Striker and Amelia to know?”
I shake my head and pull out the first envelope I’ve been carrying with me. I hand it over to her. “I got this a couple of weeks ago.”
She opens it and sees the black-and-white image and the note. “Jeez, some fan is taking this too far. You didn’t turn this over to the Vegas police department, did you?”
“No, I didn’t. They haven’t figured out who’s behind it, and I wasn’t ready for my family in Indiana to find out about this. Today I got this one.” I hand over the newest envelope, minus the picture of Callum and me.
Looking into my bag, I see it, and my heart thumps. I should tell him, but we’re still so new, and I don’t want to jeopardize that.
She looks at everything, then the note, before stopping and staring at me. “There’s more you’re hiding.”
It’s not a question, and I just shake my head. I hate lying.
“No that’s it,” I finally say as she leans back, watching me like I’m a bug on the glass. “Fine. This can’t leave this room. I swear, no one can know.”
I pull the picture out, and she takes one look before her eyes widen and she looks back at me.
“Holy shit. Striker is going to kill him.”
“I’m an adult.”
“Yeah, and you’re practically Amelia’s little sister. Cowboy should have known better.”
“In his defense, he didn’t know who I was when we started.”
“Okay. But has he gone to Striker since?”
“No. Striker has enough to worry about with the boys.”
“Girl, I’ve known Striker for years. Hiding this is like setting a bomb and waiting for it to go off on its own.” She shakes the picture at me. “This is also proof that this person was on Striker’s property. I recognize his cigar smoking area. He and I have had many shots back there over the last few months.”
“If you think Jude is in danger, I’ll back away.”
“I think you’re in serious danger. I think this person is locked on you. I think it’s time to work on solving your accident. First and foremost, you need a team.”
“I can’t have a team. Can’t we do a panic button or something? Lia told me about that.”
“Shit. Give me a moment.” She stands up and moves to the doorway, then hollers out. “Commander, come here, please.”
I jump up and race to her side to grab the picture still in her hand. “No. You can’t show him. Please. I’ll walk out,” I beg as tears roll down my face.
Jude looks out from the conference room, where he’s talking to a guy. He sees me crying.
“Auntie?” he asks and starts to walk toward me.
“No, Jude. I’m okay. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
I step back into the room as I feel a panic attack starting. I normally struggle with anxiety, but I’ve had full-blown panic attacks before. Right after the accident, they’d hit me whenever I thought about getting back on Raine.
“Whoa, deep breath, Andi,” Ridley says, wrapping her arms around me. I try to ground myself, but I can’t.
A candy is shoved at me, and I pop it into my mouth. It’s a Lemonhead, and the tartness makes me pucker, snapping me out of the panic attack that was starting. It shouldn’t have worked, but then I feel the dog leaning into me. His long, curly fur brushes against my bare legs, and I reach down to slide my hands through his coat.
“Candy doesn’t always work, but it snapped you back with Murtaugh too,” she says, pointing to the dog. I move back to the chair, and he follows, resting his head on my lap once I’m seated.
