“Everything checks out on your property. I’ve made sure that your windows and doors are locked in your cottage,” Dalton said, announcing his arrival from making his rounds.

“Thank you.” I bowed my head, feeling helpless and discouraged that someone had to come to my aid instead of being able to help myself.

“Tell him, Ember,” Devolin urged me.

“Tell me what?” Dalton’s features darkened, as if he knew that what I’d have to say next wouldn’t be good.

“Something was delivered today, while Shane, Rosie, and I were out,” I whispered.

“What?” he asked.

I nodded toward the front door. “It’s on the table over there.”

Devolin was the first to leave my side and came back handling the small box, the scrap of lace hanging out from one side, with the lid tilted sideways. The disturbed look on her face said enough. “Some creep is sending you underwear?” she squeaked out.

Dalton pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath and releasing it with a long drawn out, “Fuck.”

“It’s from my ex,” I explained.

“This isn’t the first time, is it?” I shook my head to indicate the negative as an answer to the man’s question. “Where are the others?”

“Garage,” I rasped, my throat having gone dry. “Top shelf on the left wall. White storage bin.”

Dalton disappeared.

To have Dalton riffling through that bin of things I’d had delivered over the last few weeks had me feeling humiliated.

He wasn’t a friend.

He wasn’t really an acquaintance either.

I may have felt safe with him and Devolin here with me, but as he pulled one item out after another, albeit in a clinical and assessing way, what with his wearing rubber gloves, it only solidified the fact that by the time Shane got here, I’d be in a shitload of trouble.

The pounding on my front door had me jumping out of my skin, while Devolin soothingly rubbed at my upper back to calm me down.

Dalton sat what was one of the many letters I’d received on the table before righting himself. “I’ll get that.”

Beyond a door opening and shutting, I didn’t hear anything else for the next few minutes.

When Shane made his approach, our eyes connecting, I couldn’t hold it together anymore. I broke down, a sobbing mess collapsing into his chest just as soon as he’d kneeled in front of me.

“Shhh.” He tightened his hold on me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, but I’m here now, Em. We’ll figure this all out. I promise.”

“You know?” I hiccupped, pulling away enough to tilt my head up to look him in the eyes.

“Dalton filled me in a little,” he growled.

“I don’t know how he got in,” I whispered. “I’m scared, Shane. I did everything right. I changed my numbers, I moved…I don’t even use the same email address.”

He cupped my face, wiping at my tears with his thumbs as he stared at me intently. “We’ll get Brycen on the phone.”

“Already done,” Dalton said. “I couldn’t wait for you, so I put him on task.”

Shane nodded. “Send me the bill.”

“Family doesn’t pay,” he grunted. Shane and I turned to face the man, who met my gaze head on. “This one is personal.”

“But–” I protested.

Dalton’s gaze was unwavering and brokered no argument.

“Em, let him,” Shane whispered over my temple before kissing it.

I sighed in exasperation. “Oh, all right!” I turned to look at Devolin. “Are they always so…so–”

“Bossy?” the woman supplied with a grin.

“Yes!”

“Most of the time,” she answered breezily. “But they’re right on the money this time, hon. That jackass ex of yours will cease to exist once NSI is done with him.”

Dalton’s phone bleeped an incoming call warning. Hitting a button, he said, “You’ve got D, Dev, Peters, and Ember. This better be good news.”

“Out?” I felt as though an elephant had taken residence on my chest. I struggled to catch my breath with no avail. Having him know where I lived was one thing, but him being out changed things; made them more real.

Trevor Sykes was granted early parole due to overcrowding, it seemed. I knew that the judicial system was less than perfect, but I never expected to have it fail me.

“Why wasn’t she contacted?” Shane barked at the phone sitting between all of us on my coffee table.

“Seems like Emberlyn’s lawyer is currently on medical leave. Something has to be said about an active job and lifestyle. I guess sitting behind a desk, gobbling up rich foods, and drinking too much, is bound to catch you in the ticker at some point,” Brycen said. “The guy had a heart attack, leading him to a triple bypass. He’s currently at home and was none the wiser as to what’s happened with Ember’s case until I spoke to him.”

“How long?” I gulped, then cleared my throat. “How long has he been out?”

“Ten days,” Brycen confirmed over the line.

Ten days.

That explains the sudden escalation in deliveries. What it didn’t explain though, was why all of a sudden the letters. Most of his gifts always had short notes and those were still present. The solitary letters were new, however.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Shane urged me. “I can tell you’re holding something back.”

“The letters.” I shook my head. “They don’t sound like him.”

Shane turned to Dalton, leaving Devolin at my side.

Dalton spread out each and every letter in their respective baggies.

It took him about ten minutes of reading and rereading them before he came back to my side. “I can’t say whether it’s the same person or not. Both notes and letters are typed up, but I trust what you’re saying.” I nodded in appreciation of his faith in my analysis. “Can you give us a time frame as to when the gifts started, in comparison to when the letters did?”

“The gifts stopped after I sold, then moved out of our marital home. They started up about a month ago.” I gave a quick, cursory glance to all three of my companions. “The letters started over the last week.”

“Since there’s no postmark, Brycen, I’m going to send this in so we can see about getting some prints,” Dalton told us. “Bryce, I expect you to get in touch with either me or Shane whenever you dig something up on Sykes. I want to know where he’s at, who his parole officer is, if he’s got a job…”

“On it, boss. Out.” The discernible click of Brycen hanging up was followed by Dalton disconnecting the call on our end.

“Right…” Dalton’s eyes were trained on me. “I think we can agree that you’re not safe in this house by yourself. Until Stan can get your security system up and running, I want you to stay with someone.”

“She’ll stay with me.” Shane’s statement came out as if it was law.

“What?” I stared at him. “No! I-I can’t put you out like that.”

“Em,” Shane began softly, “sweetheart, what makes you think you’d be putting me out?”

“What will your mother think? And what about Rosie?” I asked. “I’m not safe, and Trevor clearly knows where I’m at. I don’t want to bring this trouble to you and your family.” I shook my head, then looked at Dalton. “Is there another option? Can’t I stay in a hotel for the next few nights? Something kind of like a witness protection thing? I have a gun…And what about my business? I have clients…obligations I need to meet.”

“She can stay with us,” Devolin blurted, while rubbing her large belly, “can’t she, Dalt?”

“I’m not bringing this shitstorm your way, either,” I argued. “I appreciate everything you’re all doing for me, I do, but I can’t have you guys in the crossfire either.”

“You’re not going to a fucking hotel, Em, not unless I’m with you,” Shane argued. “We can pack your bags, then head over to mine so I can pack some necessities, then we’ll go to a hotel if you’re that worried about Mom and Rosie. And about work, if you’d agree to stay at mine, then you’d still be able to work out of Mom’s kitchen until Stan’s done his work. There’s no way I want you here alone. We’ll talk about you having a gun later.” He grabbed my chin gently, making sure to look me in the eyes. “So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart?”