I should be all good.
I rub my forehead, processing what this means. When we get back to Miami, this assignment is over. My time with Cole is done, and he’ll be able to go on with his life.
“Ry, everything ok?” Track’s concerned tone is a blow straight to the chest, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe again.
I lean forward, resting my head in my hand.
I swallow the lump in my throat, and it drops into the pit in my stomach that’s growing wide. “Yeah. It’s all good.” I use his words, not having any of my own at the moment.
It’s what’s best for Cole. I made the mistake of letting myself think and feel anything other than what’s required to do the job. I know better. I’ve always known what I am and what I will never be.
I press my fist to my forehead. Hard. “You sure Mindy is responsible for all of this?”
“She’s definitely hyperfixated. She’s carried around notebooks, tracking his stats and any personal information she could gather since college. She has knowledge and access to Cole. It seems to fit. Plus, she’s smart. She’s done a damn good job covering her tracks.”
This is it. It’s not how I imagined it, but it’s for the best—a quick, clean resolution.
“Ry,” Track’s voice is soft now. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah. I’m glad you got her. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
We hang up, and I squeeze my phone, wanting it to break into a million little pieces as my eyes burn with anger. . .at myself.
I take some deep breaths, willing it to stop. I won’t do this, not here.
There’s a light knock on the door, and it opens. “Hey, we’re starting SkipBo. Wanna play?”
I can’t look at him—his gentle eyes or his smile or the confidence that radiates from him that I let myself get lost in. I can no longer feel what I was feeling or want the things I was beginning to let myself have.
The door clicks shut, and he steps closer. “Hey, everything ok?”
I want to throw my phone across the room.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is filled with worry.
Dammit.
I want to fall against him and have him tell me it will all be ok—that I’m still safe with him.
The only reason I’m here is to protect him. He no longer needs that, but I can save him from what I would eventually cost him.
“Ryder.” The bed dips beside me, and I move over an inch, needing to not touch him or be touched. “What’s going on?”
“Tracker called. They got him. Or really, her.” I pull myself up, only having to get through tonight.
“What?”
“Mindy was the one threatening you. TJ tailed her, Van found security footage of her outside your apartment, and Tracker had someone we work with dig into her background.”
“Wait. Mindy? Like, PR Mindy? She’s been doing this?” He sounds just as surprised as I am.
“Did you know she went to college with you?” I ask, knowing he would have told me this if he knew.
“No.”
“Evidently, she transferred during her sophomore year. She changed her name. Even if you’d known her, you might not put ittogether.” I stand to gather some of my things and flip open my suitcase.
“Wow. I wouldn’t have thought. . . ” He doesn’t finish his statement.
