Chapter 2

in which our heroine tries not to hyperventilate in front of her ex.

Adam had spent a lot of hours imagining the next time he saw Stephanie. This wasn’t exactly what he’d pictured.

“Who found you?”

He’d imagined big fights. He’d imagined cold silence. He’d imagined meeting her with a knockout of a wife on his arm.

Most of the time he’d imagined her coming back and saying she was sorry and him saying he didn’t care and them running away to a beach in Mexico for the next five years, but he tried not to think about it too much.

Like now. Now would be a good time not to think about it.

She looked terrible and beautiful. All her color gone, eyes huge and wet and staring down. She looked like a blow up castle with not enough air. Her knuckles were white as she clasped her hands together. He could practically smell her willing herself to calm down.

“Who found you, Steph?”

The Lord should have mercy on whatever deadbeat loser she’d gotten herself involved with because while most of the time, he never wanted to see her far too pretty face again, the other times, well… the Lord better have that mercy ready. That’s all.

“Stephanie?”

Her hands, her eyes, her head – nothing had moved.

Her head snapped up as if she had only just registered that he was there. “I have to get out of here.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not quite that bad. Talk to me.”

“I don’t have time. I have to get out of here.” Her eyes were darting left and right, her body rigid. Whoever this guy was, he’d gotten her spooked real bad.

“You want to maybe just start at the beginning?”

“I have to go.” She snatched for her purse and grabbed her car keys. He reached out for her hand, hoping to pause her, stall her, slow her down.

She jumped at his touch, and her keys fell out of her grasp. Her eyes flashed with fear, fiery caged animals out for blood.

“Don’t touch me. Let me go.”

It was Adam’s turn to take a deep breath. “I’m not stopping you. I’m trying to help you.”

She struggled to escape his touch, but he held his grip firm. “I don’t want your help. I want to leave. I have to get out of here.”

“Well, whoever it is, if he’s got you this scared, I don’t like you going out there on your own.” The skin on her slender wrist was soft in stark contrast with the rigid muscles below. He kept his hold strong, but gentle. She was a like a tiny bird. If he held on too tight, he’d hurt her. “Just tell me one thing and if you want to go, well, I won’t stop you. Who is it? Who found you?”

She glared at him, her jaw set tight. She looked like a tiny, wounded tigress.

He tried to keep his expression kind, tried to tamp down his frustration. This was not the Stephanie that had broken his heart. This was Stephanie, the victim of something terrifying.

Tell me and I’ll let you go.” He shivered as she balled her hand into a fist under his. “Boyfriend? Husband?” He’d seen enough of them to last a lifetime.

He tried to smile but it was weak. “Colombian drug cartel?”

Her glare was clouded with ice and fire. “I don’t know.”

He had to strain to hear her.

“Say again?”

“I said,” her voice was barely a hiss. “I don’t know.”

Adam had dealt with a lot of unsavory characters in a lot of unsavory situations in his time. Dealers, “dancers”, felons. Slumlords. Waitresses. And a lot of ex-girlfriends. This wasn’t the first time he’d spent his Saturday night having a conversation like this one.

He knew what to look for. She was telling the truth. “Do you know anything?”

She shook her head, lips squeezed shut, jaw tight. Whatever was going on, whoever was following her, she couldn’t go out and drive like this. Not on his watch.

He let go of her hand, grabbed her keys, and stood up. “Wait here.”

Stephanie was silent as she watched him walk away. He couldn’t take her keys. She had to get out of here. She had to drive. Somewhere far away, and fast.

Her hands shook as she fumbled with her purse. Her wallet wouldn’t open. She had to pay. How could she pay if her wallet wouldn’t open? She threw her keys down in frustration.

Breathe, Stephanie. You can’t think if you can’t breathe.

Her whole body was trembling as she struggled to follow the parroted instructions. How had he found her? She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. Her friends, the library, nobody knew.

Did he know she was from Langford?

She had to run. She had to hide. She had to go somewhere he couldn’t find her.

Adam was saying something to the waitress. He was getting his hat. Maybe if she played calm she could get her keys back.

Her world was crashing down. This week had been torment. Leaving Brooklyn. Leaving Jessie. No jobs. No home. Adam. The flower.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about anything. Get your keys and get out of here.

It was sitting right there, sick and spiky and violent.

Don’t look.

She strained to stare straight ahead, willed her eyes to stay focused on the seat in front of her, but the bright orange spikes were a magnet.

The strain of taut muscles was taking its toll. She could not freak out. She had to look calm. She had to look in control. A shadow blocked the light and she dragged her eyes up. Adam’s frame filled her entire view. She had to strain her neck to look to his face. Where had the scar come from?

“Come with me.” His voice was full of authority. He sounded like his father. Deep and rumbling and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“You took my keys.” She fought to keep the hysteria out of her voice. “You said you’d let me leave.”

“That was before you told me there was an unknown psycho on the loose.”

A shiver crept through her. “I’m not going with you.”

There was no joy in his smile. “I’m not sure I agree with you there.”

“You can’t make me go with you.”

“I am not the bad guy here, Steph.” He placed his palms on the table and bent to lean in close. Too close. “I don’t know what’s happened and I don’t know what’s happening now. What I do know is that you’re freaking out and I’m not going to let you do that in the middle of a restaurant. I can pick you up and carry you or you can come willingly. But you are coming with me.”

She pulled back, wrapped her arms around herself tight. “I have to get out of here.”

“I agree.” He stood back up and settled his hat into place. He reached his hand towards her. “Come.”

She looked at his hand, strong and tanned and huge. It was tempting. But if she took his hand it would all come back and she would come undone completely. She had to keep whatever shards of sanity she had left. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere that is not here. We’ll start with my truck.”

“No!” He was obviously delusional. She could not go in his truck. She’d hyperventilate. She wouldn’t be able to breathe. No, no, no. “What if he’s out there?”

Adam raised his eyebrows, hand still outstretched. “Given his dramatic exit, I think it’s fair to say he’s not coming back for a while.”

If she went with him, she could get her keys back. She could get in the car and go. Louisiana. New Mexico. Canada.

She would stop using her credit cards. Get a job under the table or something. Change her name. Change Jessie’s name. Jessie.

It was the only way. She took his hand and stood. Her knees were shaky. He held her purse.

“I have to pay.”

“Already taken care of.”

She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. It wasn’t worth arguing about.

She’d only taken a few steps out of the booth when she sensed him reach back. Her head jerked around. He was grabbing the flower and the note. “No. I don’t want it.”

His head bent and his lips were right beside her ear, his breath hot on her face. “Shh. Don’t worry about it right now. One step at a time. I’ve got you.”

She nodded and let him lead her outside.

Her body tensed as he slammed his door shut behind him. Too close. Too tight. Not enough air. “Can you open the window?”

As the windows rolled down, she filled her lungs with a gasp.

“Better?”

She forced herself to nod.

“Now tell me what’s going on. You said he found you. That means there’s a him. I’m guessing there’s a little more to this story than that.”

She didn’t reply. What was there to say?

“And you don’t know who he is.”

That’s what made it so terrifying. She’d never known. She’d never even had a clue. She looked over at him. He was obviously waiting for a response. She shook her head with a jerk.

“So it’s not a boyfriend.”

Her laugh came out cold. “No.”

“Not a husband.”

“No.” Her voice was toneless.

“And I’m guessing it doesn’t have anything to do with a Colombian drug cartel.” She stared at her knees. She was trying not to look at him. She was trying not to see anything at all. She didn’t want the questions. She needed time to think. She needed to clear her head, get organized, make a list. She didn’t have time for this.

“I’m a simple man, Stephanie. You’re going to need to explain this to me using simple words.”

Enough. This was ridiculous. “You know what I need to do, Adam? I need to get away from you. I need to get away from here. There’s nothing to explain. Besides, what do you care? What business is it of yours?”

He took a measured tone. “I don’t even want to even dignify that with an answer. Let’s start with the fact that it looks like there might be a psycho in my town, and I don’t like that. Seems you’re the only one who knows anything about it, and I think it’s appropriate for the people in charge to know about that.”

She glared at him. “And you’re one of the people in charge now?”

He ignored her. “Are you going to answer my questions or not?”

He obviously wasn’t going to stop pestering her until she said something. She just had to shut him up and get her keys and get out of here. “Fine. He sends flowers. Sometimes… notes. He was sending them back home, and I thought if I came here, well – I thought I would be safe.”

“How long has this been going on?”

She let out a frustrated breath. “A long time.”

“How long is a long time?”

“A long time is a long time, okay?” Too many questions. Not enough air. The urge to run was closing in on her. “I don’t know. Jess was…” She paused to do the mental math.

“Who’s Jess?”

Oh, why did she say that? Why, why, why?

Big mistake. She fought with everything she had to stay still, to stop herself from rocking back and forth. She tightened her grip on herself and tried to breathe slowly. “Jessie is… my daughter.”

“Your daughter.” His eyes flashed surprise for a slice of a moment and his face was back to neutral. “So how long?”

The open windows weren’t helping. She wanted to throw her head outside and gulp the air into her lungs.

Answer the question, Steph. He won’t let you go until you answer the question.

“Eight years, maybe?”

So much for his neutral face. “You’ve had a stalker for eight years? Why didn’t you go to the cops.”

Oh, no, he didn’t. She could not believe him. Her fear morphed into anger and she looked straight at him. She didn’t have to keep her voice calm this time. It came out frigid. “It never occurred to me.”

His eyes widened and his brows shot up. “It never occurred to you? That’s rich.”

Frigid turned to explosive. “Of course it occurred to me, Adam! What kind of nutcase do you think I am?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. What did the cops do?”

Ha. The cops. That was a story if ever there was one. “Nothing.”

Doubt and disgust clouded his features. “They couldn’t have done nothing.”

She stared out at the road beside them. “Maybe they couldn’t, but they did.”

“OK, replay the scene for me. Police station. Daytime. Enter Stephanie. Hello. I have a stalker. Which door is that? Then what?”

She didn’t want to remember that day. She had tried so hard to do the right thing. She had tried to trust in the system. Her face flushed as she thought back to her own naïveté. Of course they wouldn’t do anything. They had real crimes to deal with.

“They said that sending flowers to a woman is not yet illegal in the state of New York.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. “And notes saying I look pretty today are still within the bounds of the law.”

“This is insane. I need gas. And food.” He turned the key and the truck roared to life.

“I’m not going with you! My car is here.”

“Your car is still going to be here. Put your belt on. We’re going.”

They didn’t speak on the short drive to the station. She fought the urge to hide from view, sink down into the seat until she could completely disappear. It would probably just make Adam ask more questions. She’d rather have silence than a barrage of questions she couldn’t answer.

She jumped when the door crashed closed behind him. She couldn’t blame the guy for being frustrated. She wasn't exactly being forthcoming with information. But what could she say?

How was she going to bring up Jessie? When she'd slipped up and mentioned her daughter, she hadn't known what to do. She had to say something or he was just going to pry further. But she was not ready for this conversation. She wasn't ready to have it here, in the cab of a truck, outside of a diner or at a gas station.

She stared at the dashboard and tried to remember something grounding. Her list of calming techniques was back at the motel. What was written on it? Music. Not exactly appropriate. Candles. She doubted he had a stash of those in the glove compartment. Prayer. The day she prayed in Adam Chase’s truck would be the day pigs finally flew.

The only thing left was breathing and it wasn’t working because there wasn’t any air. Wasn’t this supposed to be big sky country? Didn’t there used to be nothing but air?

He was coming out of the station and around to his side of the truck. She didn’t look, but she didn’t jump this time either.

He shoved a drink at her. “Drink this.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he kept going. “You need blood sugar. It’s banana.” A grin snuck in. “I know you’re never going to say no to banana.”

This was true. Condensation from the frozen drink crept down her wrist and the chill followed all the way to her spine. If she could just think about something else, anything else, just for a moment. She slotted her drink into the cup holder and disturbed a cloud of fur.

"Have you been wrestling sheep in here?"

"Dog." He was starting the truck back up. “Wait, if you’ve got a daughter, where is she now? With your husband?”

“I don’t have a husband.” Bad direction. Very bad direction. “I’m not married. I told you that.”

“You told me that you don’t have an ex-husband stalking you. You didn’t say you weren’t married.”

When she didn’t respond, he continued. “So… where is she? If Weirdo is on the loose, where is this daughter? Jessie, you said her name was?”

Non-committal. She had to stay non-committal. “She’s at Pam’s.”

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “She’s better off with a stalker.”

“Don’t start.” She wasn’t looking forward to calling her sister about this. She promised that she’d be calling for Jessie soon, and now … she just didn’t know.

“Where is her father?”

She took advantage of this moment to investigate the craftsmanship of her seat cushion. If she could just stall him for long enough, she could talk about this on her terms. She’d look stubborn, but she had to play for some time.

“Could it be him?”

Her laugh came out like more of a bark. “No.”

“Is he dead? Is he currently involved in active service?”

“What?”

“If he’s not dead or currently involved in active service, then it could be him.”

“Whatever. It’s not him.”

“Does he know where Jess is?”

“He does.” Technically, that was true.

“And you know for sure he couldn’t be sending the notes.”

“Can we stop talking about Jessie’s father?” Talking to him was weird enough. Talking about him was surreal.

“You know it’s always the ex.” He took a slurp of his own drink. “Or the brother. If it’s not the brother, it’s the ex-boyfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “You watch too many cop shows.”

“You think I watch cop shows?”

“Jessica’s father is not stalking me. Can we stop with the questions?”

Clearly not. “Do we have any reason to believe that Weirdo might look for Jessie at Pam’s? If he knows enough about you to follow you here, do you think he knows where she lives?”

She turned to look at him for a moment. Something was gnawing at her. It had been since they had started talking. Something about his tone, his word choice, the way he carried himself. It was professional. No, it was more than that. It was nuanced. He was too good at this.

The Adam she knew had been a lot of things, but nuanced hadn’t been one of them. Too many things about him had changed.

Misti had said something. Did you get your guy?

They can run, but they can’t hide, right?

“Adam,” she said, completely ignoring his question, “Are you a cop?”

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