Deck answers his phone across the room, and I hear him. I knew that tone. He was angry. Furious.
His expression darkens as he listens, then he turned toward one of the computers.
He hangs up and turns back to me. “We have a vehicle registration.” he says, “The vehicle was spotted entering Campbell River four months ago. Confirmed sighting.”
My heart dropped. Four fucking months.
Cold fury built in my chest. “He wasn’t just passing through?” I asked, quietly hoping for anything else.
“No.” Deck stared at the screen. “He’s been here.”
“Hundred percent?”
“Without question. Street camera caught him arriving.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Adrian was here the night of the nightclub. Even before the attempted kidnapping. Before Eli spiraled. He had arrived when the messages started, when the photos began.
He was watching. Watching Eli.
This wasn’t a coincidence. Not chance. Not some random encounter.
Adrian Blackwell had come to Campbell River to hunt.
And suddenly everything snapped into place: the way Eli froze when unfamiliar cars slowed near the apartment, the terror in his eyes when Adrian’s name was spoken, the way he checked every lock, every window before sleep.
“He’s been stalking him,” Deck said quietly.
I stared at the report, read it once, twice, a third time, hoping it might change.
“He’s been stalking him,” I echoed, barely recognizing my own voice.
The man in that nightclub wasn’t random. None of it was. Everything had been planned by Adrian.
And Adrian had come here to take Eli from me.
I tipped my head back, staring at the ceiling, knowing the man I love was asleep above it. Then the guilt came, hitting me hard.
I saw Eli laughing in that nightclub: happy, dancing. Then I saw the panic, heard the screams, watched him break.
I should have known. I should have protected him better. The memory burned: his laughter, his fear, the way he collapsed in my arms. I had failed him when he needed me the most.
“He trusted us,” I whispered.
Deck looked at me sharply. “Don’t do that.”
I swallowed. “Deck…”
“No.” His voice hardened. “He still trusts you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be sleeping upstairs. He wouldn’t let you hold him. He wouldn’t love you.” His voice rose slightly. “You hear me, CJ? That boy loves you.”
My chest tightened. “I can’t lose him, Deck.” My voice cracked. “I can’t lose another person I love. He’s my soul. He’s the reason I get up every morning.”
Deck grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in, and I didn’t fight it.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“For what?”
