JENNA STARED AT HER phone. Had she even hit dial? Whatever. She needed him.

“Alex, it’s Jenna.”

“I know. Why are you out of breath?”

Because she’d ran all the way to the edges of the hospital. She stopped halfway between one of the main entries to the ER and the more secluded smoke area. There were people around, people she knew, but not too close to hear her.

“I think—I think someone moved my car. I always park in the same spot. Always. Third row, not quite halfway down.”

“Slow down, I can barely understand you. Someone moved your car?”

“Yes.” Maybe? Could she have just parked it there herself?

“Go inside. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m right by the station.” She could hear voices, a woman’s and someone else. Dang, he was at Delores’s. She’d bet money on it, and now she was dragging him out into her mess—but she needed someone. “Jenna, you there?”

“Yeah, sorry. You’re out doing stuff. I shouldn’t have called.” She began to pace back and forth, peering at the people. Was anyone watching her? Could the stalker be someone she knew?

“No, I’m exactly who you should have called.” In the background she heard him mutter something that sounded like, “Bye,” before his voice resonated through the phone with all the authority she was used to. “Talk to me. Stay on the line.”

“Okay. What should I say?”

“Tell me about your day. How you’re doing.”

“I’m freaked out.” I can’t tell if I’m being stalked or if I did this and can’t remember.

“Yeah. What about today? You go out on any calls?”

“A few, nothing bad. There was an elder-fall and a fender-bender with no injuries.”

“Who were the officers on site?” He was keeping her occupied. She got that. And it was working. Already she was breathing easier.

“Val and Patrick were there.” There’d been other cops, but she always gravitated toward those also on SWAT. They were her people. Adrenaline junkies. Thrill seekers. It was a unique bond that drew them all together.

“You ever met Val’s sister?”

“Victoria? They’re twins, right?” She vaguely remembered them from her short year at Ransom high school.

“Yeah.”

“No, but he’s posted some pictures of them—or she’s tagged him in pictures. Fuck, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Alex. I’m not calm. I’m not okay. Telling me to pretend like I am isn’t going to fix this.”

“I realize that. Sorry. I’m turning into the hospital now. Where are you?”

Jenna squeezed her eyes shut. “Sorry, I’m just—”

“Don’t apologize. Where are you?”

“Between the smoking area and ER.”

“I see you.”

The stalker could be sitting in a car right now watching her. Or she could have made him up. God, she hated the not-knowing.

Alex’s truck pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t a white horse, but the white paint job would work well enough. Her hero.

Before Alex could open his door, she jogged around to the passenger side, ending the call. She wanted cover, safety, and Alex’s truck was as close as she could get to an armored transport. He moved some stuff out of the seat before she sat on it and didn’t ask a question.

“Where’s the car parked?” he asked.

“Fifth row over, south of the mid-point. I don’t park that far back because the back of the lots aren’t as well lit and I come and go when it’s dark most of the year.”

“Smart.”

He eased the truck into the employee parking area and down the row she pointed out. They passed the mid-point. The sun had set enough that the lights were triggered. All but the closest light to her car flickered on, humming as the bulbs warmed up.

“There.” She pointed to her car and Alex stopped.

“Keys?” He held out his hand and grabbed a camera from the dash.

“What are you going to do?”

“Document anything in it.”

“There shouldn’t be anything in it. I don’t leave stuff in plain sight and I just cleaned it out last weekend.”

“Then if anything is in it, I’ll know it’s not supposed to be there. Lock the door for me?” He slid out of the truck and closed his door.

It was completely silly to lock the doors, and yet he’d asked her to. Probably because he knew she needed that added sense of security. Nothing could get her while Alex was there, not even her own mind. He was a magnet that pulled her focus to him.

She needed to talk to someone. And not just about the possible stalking. It was time to make an appointment with Dr. Weir. Maybe reach out to some people she’d served with. They’d understand her paranoia better than anyone. In fact, a friend had emailed her a few months ago to say she was state-side. Lauren had been a patient Jenna had connected with. The first injury Lauren had taken was a bullet to the shoulder, but the second, an IED, had almost taken her foot. Lauren had been discharged, but determined to continue serving. She’d returned as a contractor and had worked right alongside the army for many years in a less dangerous role.

Alex opened her car, the trunk and took pictures of everything. She hated that she was too chicken to actually look inside the car right now. The last thing she wanted to do was drive it. Shit. What was she going to do about work and everything else? Despite being friendly with most of the other staff, she didn’t feel close to any of them. They didn’t get her, didn’t understand why she’d gone overseas. She was closer to the cops she served with than them.

Maybe she should hit up Bonnie. They rarely went on ops together, but Jenna liked the SWAT officer well enough. She didn’t think Alex wanted her crashing at his place much longer, despite his offer. He’d kissed her, and yet he didn’t seem to want her. He was so damn confusing.

Alex knocked on the driver’s side window, startling her. She shook her head and pressed the unlock button.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as he climbed in.

He placed the camera in the center console before turning toward her. He was no longer in his uniform, but he didn’t need it. The assumption of authority was in everything he did. Alex was the kind of man who would lead people to do things whether he realized it or not. Men, even the most alpha, looked to him with confidence.

“How tall are you?” he asked.

“Uh, five seven.”

“How far do you normally put your seat back?”

“Probably farther than normal. I don’t like feeling closed in. Why?”

“The seat is really close to the steering wheel, way too short for you. Any chance a friend of yours has a set of keys and borrowed the car? A nurse maybe?”

There were a few nurses she hung out with sometimes, usually for girly things like shopping and movies. They got together maybe once a month when their schedules aligned, but not enough she’d give them a key to her car.

“No, no one.”

“Where do you keep your spare?”

“In a magnetic box under the right fender.”

Alex nodded.

“Anyone could have done it,” she said.

“Anyone who knows where you keep the key. It’s not good enough proof that someone is stalking you, but it’s a brick to build the case.” He pressed his lips together for a moment and glanced away. “I don’t feel comfortable with you driving the car without getting it checked out.”

“Me neither,” she said quickly.

Alex glanced back at her. The way he was staring at her...

“What aren’t you telling me?” Jenna asked, dreading the answer already.

“Has anything like this happened before?”

“No, never. It’s been small things, the coaster, a drawer open—stuff I don’t do.”

“I think this stalker is fixated on you. The watching and taking keepsakes. I think it’s a person who perceives themselves in a relationship with you. Maybe as friends or a lover.”

“A man?”

“Maybe. Statistics would favor a male stalker.”

“So—what?”

“Stalkers escalate. Something triggered the interest in you. Another thing triggered the urge to take something of yours—the coaster? And now another trigger.” He gestured to the car.

“What do I do?”

“Stay at my place tonight if you want. Tomorrow I’ll have a buddy take your car to his shop, look it over.” He wasn’t saying everything. She could tell by the way he didn’t look at her directly and the tightness around his mouth. What was so bad he wouldn’t tell her?

“Are you sure that’s okay? I mean, I don’t want to be a burden on you.” There was still the awkward matter of the kiss to clear up as well. God, how was she going to live that down? Sure, she wanted to crawl into the deepest, darkest hole and die for the shame of it, but she also wanted to be as near to Alex as possible.

“We take care of our own,” he said and shifted the truck into drive. “What do you want to eat?”

“I’m not picky.” She wouldn’t taste it, anyway. Not when she couldn’t get the taste of his lips out of her head.

“Taco Tuesday at Rosa’s?”

“Sure.” She settled back in her seat as Alex turned up the radio.

Neither spoke during the drive though Alex would tap his fingers on the steering wheel and hum along to the chorus of a song or two.

He was treating her like a victim. Though she was a victim, she didn’t want to wear the label. What had Alex discovered that he wouldn’t tell her? Was there something at her house? Had he uncovered evidence? Or was he beginning to suspect she wasn’t telling him the whole story?

They picked up the taco plates a couple miles from Alex’s house, still in silence.

Jenna couldn’t take it anymore. She’d lost the safety of her home and car, she wasn’t going to lose Alex to permanent awkwardness.

“Can I do anything to help out? Wash the dishes or anything?” It wasn’t what she wanted to talk about, but she was too chicken to come right out and say how she felt.

“Nothing to wash,” he replied.

“Oh.”

“You don’t need to repay me for anything. Like I said, we take care of our own.”

“I totally owe you. You’re sticking your neck out for me.” She wasn’t a cop, just a medic.

Alex glanced at her. His lips curled down into a frown. What did he know? And why was it so hard to breathe when he looked at her?

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Today when I was at your place I listened to your answering machine. I thought—if the stalker’s escalating, maybe he’d try to contact you.”

Her thoughts raced over all the strange telemarketer calls she deleted without listening to. Could he have been one of those? What hadn’t she heard?

Alex pulled into his driveway, parked and turned to face her, his frown more intense.

“There was a message from a doctor’s office. They said your psych eval was ready for pickup.”

Oh no...

“Why’d you want that?”

Jenna’s stomach plummeted, and the world grew fuzzy. The only thing in sharp focus was Alex’s face, and it wasn’t a look she wanted to remember. Whoever said the truth will set you free hadn’t walked a mile in her shoes.

ALEX WATCHED JENNA’S mouth open and close a few times. She glanced down at her hands and cleared her throat. Why had he pressed the play button? This wasn’t any of his business. He should never have asked. But if Jenna needed help—if she had something going on—he wanted to make sure she’d be taken care of, that she wasn’t going through it alone.

“Well, nice to know they aren’t trying to keep it from me.” Jenna chuckled, but it was nervous and out of place.

“What’s wrong, Jenna?” He hated how she couldn’t meet his gaze now. All he wanted to do was reach across the truck and hold her, tell her that whatever the problem was—it would be okay.

She spoke with her gaze latched onto the stick shift.

“I might not have a stalker. There’s another explanation. What if...” She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what came next. “What if it’s all in my head? What if I have PTSD?”

Alex stared at her—stunned. There was no way his beautiful, vibrant Jenna was anything but perfect.

She sat back in her seat, one hand over her mouth as she looked out of the passenger side window, shoulders slumped. “There was a bad wreck once. We were carting the injured to a better facility farther away from the fighting, so I was in the back of this van. Someone hit us and I flew out the back, rolled, scraped up my face. There were two IED explosions at either end of the convoy. They were waiting for us. The guy in the van with me died instantly. I’d just started working with him, too. It was his first deployment. I spent so much time in hot areas—”

“Jenna, stop it.” He didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t hear that she’d been hurt—ever. Alex reached across and wrapped his hand around hers. She turned to look at him, but it wasn’t her. There was a sadness in her eyes he didn’t recognize. “You are the most capable person I’ve ever worked with. If you had PTSD, there’d be signs.”

“Like what? How do you know I’m not screwed up in the head and imagining all of this?” She leaned toward him and he knew he had to choose his next words very carefully.

“Because you just told me about some of what I’d imagine were the most painful experiences. You always know the details of the op, better than me sometimes. You’re calm, level headed.”

“I can’t sleep, I’ve used caffeine pills to get through the day, I have nightmares—the worst stuff I saw on repeat—and I know the names of every person I should have been able to save.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

“Then what does it mean? There are times when I’m awake and doing things around my house, I blink and its hours later. What happens then?” She shook and pressed her hand once more over her mouth. “I’m scared, Alex. What if it’s all in my head?”

He pushed the plastic bag of food into the floor, pushed the center console up and pulled Jenna across the seats and wrapped his arms around her. A stalker, a bad guy or a suspect he could run down, he could find them and arrest them for their crimes. But what Jenna was proposing was more terrifying. How did he fight her memories?