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“But you’re safe here,” Yale reminds me.

I nod, but my mind drifts. To memories. A silhouette that held my hand and whispered that he’d never leave me.

“For now, we plan,” Zayden says, interrupting my thoughts. “We find a location, call in some backup. Preferably Charlie.”

Xavier whoops. “Good old Charlie Callahan. If he’s coming, there’ll be fireworks.”

“Who’s Charlie Callahan?” I ask.

Zayden smiles. “A friend of a friend.”

“He looks like a boulder,” Xavier says. “But he’s fucking adorable.”

I find myself smiling, too, a little taken with how warm Xavier is being with me. It’s unexpected but needed, especially today.

“I’m gonna get Goodwin to keep an eye on Monica,” he says, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Just in case Ryker decides to grab her.”

My heart thumps a little at the thought. If Grant was involved, then he’s right—Monica could be in danger, too.

“Shouldn’t we bring her here?” I ask.

Xavier shakes his head. “Grant is dead. It’s unlikely she’s worth anything to Ryker. Bringing her here might just put her in the firing line.”

This safe house really doesn’t seem so damn safe. Before I can ask more, Xavier leaves the kitchen, and Yale follows, telling us he’s going to make some calls and start warming up the living room.

“Tell me.”

I meet Zayden’s eye. “Hm?”

My husband’s gaze is fixed on me, and I suddenly wish he didn’t know me so well. “When Xavier mentioned that Ryker had been following you, you tensed. Why?”

Rubbing my thumb into the palm of my opposite hand, I wonder whether it’s worth dredging this back up. Probably not, but if there’s even a small chance …

“I think I love you, Silence.”

I clear my throat. “I was stalked when I was younger. I think … he didn’t follow me, but he did visit me at night. For a while.”

He frowns. “How long?”

“Four years … maybe five?”

“Holy shit, Silence.” He closes the space between us. “Did he hurt you?”

Resting my hands on his chest, I shake my head. “No, not even close. He was … harmless. Kind, even.”

“Now you’ve lost me.”

I was lost, too. Having someone sit in my room and watch me for years, especially when that someone is in a mask, would freak most people out. It didn’t scare me, though. I was so lonely growing up that I’d have taken any friend I could.

“Life was … crappy,” I admit, looking down. “I don’t like talking about it because it feels pointless now, but my dad wasn’t exactly Dad of the Year. He was paranoid, always talking about how we had to prepare …”

Zayden tilts my head up. “Prepare for what?”

“He never said. He just kept insisting that if we weren’t ready, we’d die.” The words leave a thickness in my throat that I wish would outgrow. I was a kid then, but it’s been years. I should be over it by now. “He wasn’t all bad, he just … had his demons. And he thought he was protecting me by keeping me isolated. The person in my room was the only friend I had for a long time.”

It felt safe to talk to someone without a face, and when he finally talked back, I cried. Maybe part of my childish mind thought he was a figment of my imagination, and hearing his voice brought to life the truth—that I wasn’t alone.

“Could it have been Ryker?” Zayden asks gently.