36
Ariel
I shut my laptop and stared out at the water. Esme was tasked with researching the top cognitive specialists in the New Orleans area so I could select one for Dad. My instinct was to find the best in the world, but I knew Dad couldn’t just hop on a plane and fly somewhere for a doctor’s appointment. They were still running tests at the hospital, and Heath had asked me to wait to stop by because all the commotion had upset Dad, and he was trying to keep him settled. It frustrated me to no end that he didn’t want me there, but I didn’t argue.
I felt helpless. My fingers itched to dig through more department files, but Rhett had made me give my word that I wouldn’t do it without him.
There were a million and one other things I could do for work, but my mind was too chaotic. I was a scatterbrained mess, and that wasn’t going to help anyone. I needed to center myself and find some calm so I could kick ass when it was my turn.
My gaze drifted from the lake to the pool—a completely over-the-top, ostentatious, resort-style swimming pool with a grotto and waterfall that was sitting there unused. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d put on a bathing suit. Maybe an hour of relaxing would give me what I needed to be able to keep charging forward at my normal pace? I’d learned the hard way a few years ago that I couldn’t work 24/7 without taking a few hours to just breathe now and then.
So maybe that was what I’d do, and I’d be more effective when the time came.
Fifteen minutes later, slathered in sunblock and clad in a bikini from my suitcase that I didn’t remember asking to have packed, I made my way down and snagged a towel from a neat stack in the pool house. The thickly padded lounge chair called my name, and I opted to soak up a little much-needed vitamin D.
I lasted a whole five minutes before I drifted off.
The realistic dream sucked me in. I was walking down a beach hand in hand with Rhett, my gauzy white dress billowing in the breeze, when he stopped to pick me up and spin me around. Once I was dizzy, he laid me down on the sand and knelt beside me to whisper in my ear.
“You’ll never get away from him. He’s the only one who ends things.”
Wait, what?
The menacing voice hissed in my ear, jerking me from sleep as Rhett’s face morphed into someone dark, a black ski mask covering everything but his mouth. I blinked to try to change the image in front of my face, but it stayed. It was real.
“You hear me, bitch?”
Oh my God.
I froze.
“Yeah, that’s right. You see me. You hear me. Don’t fucking forget it. You can hide in a fortress all you want, but he can get to you. He says when you’re done. Not you.”
Paralyzed by fear, I remained completely motionless except for my blinking eyes. I watched while the man rose to his feet with a malicious smile and bolted toward the lake.
It took me a minute to process what had just happened and yell for help. The sound of a boat ripping away from the shore drowned out the sound.
I snatched up my phone, poised to tap in my code to unlock it, but a text message notification popped onto the lock screen.
Unknown Number: I told you to be on a plane. That means you get on a plane. You do not let another man touch you.
My brain spun back to the text I’d gotten from Carlos yesterday, followed by his email with the plane ticket. After I’d confronted him about the pictures of him screwing another woman, I thought the plane ticket was some ridiculously misguided last-ditch effort to return things to the status quo. I couldn’t understand what planet he must be living on for him to think I’d respond, let alone use it. Apparently, his expectations had been different.
A shiver ripped through me as I wrapped myself in my towel and ran for the house.
Who the hell was that guy? Carlos wouldn’t have sent someone, would he? How did he get in without setting off the security? Where was Carver?
The voice echoed in my head. “He can get to you. He says when you’re done. Not you.”
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as I threw open the sliding glass door and locked it behind me. Once inside, I forced myself to think rationally.
This was Carlos. The nice guy who liked to go out for dinner when our schedules meshed and was my on-again, off-again boyfriend who clearly didn’t limit himself to being exclusive. He wasn’t a crazy psycho with possessive tendencies. He just wasn’t.
My brain, logical to a fault more often than not, couldn’t connect this type of behavior to the man I knew. This was stalker-crazy, and I was too smart to ever get involved with a guy like that. Wasn’t I?
I leaned back against the door, my first instinct to run to Carver and tell him what had happened, but something stopped me.
I’m capable. I can handle this. Carlos isn’t crazy.
I picked up my phone and stared at the text for another second. Part of my mind told me not to engage, but the other part wanted this done and over with, without anyone else having to know what kind of man I might have gotten myself involved with. It was one thing when a security threat came from some rogue ex-employee, but this was a guy I’d dated. I’d slept with. I’d shared things with.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I punched in a text.
Ariel: We’re done.
His reply was instant.
Unknown Number: We will discuss your temper tantrum and poor decision-making when you return to California today. The date on your ticket has been changed. Don’t make me come collect you myself.
What. The. Hell.
I flipped open my email and, sure enough, there was a new first-class return ticket leaving New Orleans in a few hours.
Ariel: Don’t contact me again. I’ll be calling the police to report the person who broke in and threatened me, along with screenshots of these texts.
The unknown number popped up on the screen as my phone came to life with a call.
I hit Ignore and pulled up the security screen to block this number as well. My hand shook, knowing it would only be a temporary measure.
Now I had to decide—
Another text popped up. It was from a different unknown number, and chills racked my body at how quickly he could skirt my security.
Unknown Number: If you tell anyone about my visit today, I’ll make sure they die. Think carefully, because I always follow through.
This wasn’t Carlos. This was . . . This was the guy who was just here.
Icy fear, completely at odds with the bead of sweat rolling down my face, locked me in place.
Think logically, Ari. They want you to be afraid. They want to use your fear to control you. You can’t give in to emotional and psychological terrorism. They can’t hurt you.
But they could hurt me.
That man had stood not two feet away from me while I was completely unaware, not tripping any security measures, otherwise Carver would have been on him. He could have killed me instead of delivering a warning.
What do I do?
I’d never run to my brother for help. That wasn’t my MO. But I knew the right answer was to get a larger security team in place and tell Carver, Rhett, and Heath what happened.
But what if his threat is real? What if telling them puts them in danger? I couldn’t live with that.
Rhett’s parents’ house exploded last week, for Christ’s sake, which was all the proof I needed to know that life was unpredictably terrifying sometimes.
But I couldn’t do nothing. I had to take action. Forcing myself to my feet, I clasped my hands together and squeezed until they stopped shaking.
Security footage. The house came equipped with a full video-surveillance system that was only accessible from within the secured network.
With deep, calming breaths, I grabbed my computer, took it to a landline where I knew I’d be one hundred percent safe, and plugged it in to access the network. Within moments, I found the most advantageous camera angle and rewound the footage by ten minutes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered as I stared at the black screen. I bumped it up to five times the normal speed and flew through two minutes of nothing. When the picture finally returned, the lounger where I’d lain was empty. Rewinding it further, I found the cameras hadn’t caught a single frame of me heading out to the pool or sleeping in the sun.
Nothing. Like it had never even happened.
Apprehension skittered down my spine like scattering spiders.
That’s how they didn’t alert Carver. They must have shut down the security system completely. But how?
No one could hack into this network without leaving a trail for me to find them. And I would. They might have been good, but I was better. I would track them down and not let them scare me into submission.
No one threatened the people I cared about and got away with it. And no one was allowed to dictate to me.
Carlos can take that airline ticket and shove it up his ass.
I needed to get my shit together and work out a game plan.
Step one: Figure out how the hell I was going to tell Rhett without him going to California to rip Carlos to shreds with his bare hands.