I laugh. “As long as you can take as good as you give.”
I hear her scoff, and I smile, relieved she’s laying down some of her cool, stiffness.
She enters the parking garage, and I barely hear her soft voice as she parks and turns off the car.
“Thank you for waking me last night. I’m sorry. . . ” Something tells me this is only a bit of whatever is going on with her. “If that happens when your friend is here, that’ll be one more thing to explain.”
Other than her staring at me through the dark, wide-eyed and terrified, I think this might be Ryder being vulnerable. I sit, not even attempting to get out, fearing it will shove her walls right back in place.
“Are you worried about that?”
She fidgets with the fringe on her jeans. “Explaining night terrors like that—”
“You don’t have to explain anything.” I cut her off, not wanting her to be ashamed or afraid for one second. “If I hear you, I’ll come wake you. It’ll be ok.”
She removes the shield of her sunglasses, and her eyes finally meet mine. She nods slightly.
“And don’t apologize for that. . .ever.”
Her eyes roam over my face before she opens her door and climbs out. We ride the elevator up to my apartment.
“Your secret admirer sent another note.”
“What?” I’m surprised Rob didn’t call me.
“Yep. Your agent sent it over, along with a stack of other love letters. I didn’t know you were so popular with the haters.”
“What was it?” I’m not sure I really want to know.
“It included a picture of you and me from the game they could’ve pulled from any site.”
The elevator dings, and the doors open.
“What did it say?”
She doesn’t answer as I open the door, and the area around my ribs shrinks.
“They delicately painted a burn hole through my chest with a well-crafted, “You’re finished, or she is,” typed underneath.” Her voice is so casual as she sets her backpack on the floor. “It’s goodnews, really. First, they might be turning their attention to me to get to you, and second, they went back to email rather than risking getting up close and personal again.”
“You think this is good news?”
Her coolness about the situation makes my growing agitation plunge higher.
“Cole, they’re playing again. We need that to find them. If they’re putting some of their attention on me, that’s good.”
A steel rod fuses to my spine. I don’t want this maniac coming anywhere near Ryder.
“I’m still pondering the message, though. It seems. . .juvenile. It’s definitely not very creative.”
“What do we do about it?”
She shrugs. “I assume you’re still not quitting.” She lets that hang there, a half-statement, half-question. “We keep doing what we’re doing. I’ll work on the web and hope this person messes up, giving us something to go on.”
I stare at her and her calm exterior.
“It’s kind of strange, though, that they would step back.”
“What do you mean?”
