Ridiculously happy, I toss the Maserati keys to Alex as we enter the kitchen. Jake and Thomas are leaning against opposite counters, their eyes following me.
"You drove the Mas?" Thomas asks me, unusually casual in front of Alex.
Alex tends to make Thomas uncomfortable and nervous, so he's typically very formal and professional when Alex is around. After spending more time together, since Thomas is officially assigned to protect me, we've become more laid-back and friendly with each other.
"Drove the hell out of it," I answer Thomas directly.
Jake takes a drink from his water bottle. "Did you find a new car, Kylie?"
I love the new relaxed atmosphere in the house lately. We seem like a weird, completely unconventional family, which suits me perfectly.
"I did." And the silly grin returns to my face.
"Well, tell them what you bought." Alex glances over at Jake.
"Porsche Carrera. Convertible."
Thomas leans over to fist-bump me. "Sa-weet. Is it here?"
"No, we had to order the one I wanted. Alex insisted on some safety upgrades. Hopefully, it'll be here in a couple of days."
I look over at Alex, who is having a telepathic conversation with Jake. I'm getting used to those, too, but I hate when I'm being treated like a child with the two adults having a private conversation I can't be a part of.
Thomas points to a box on the island. "You got a package from New York, Kylie. It came while you were out."
"Excellent. Must be a surprise from Ryan and Paul."
The label is computer-generated, which is odd for Ryan, who still prefers the personal touch of handwritten notes even if they are mailing labels. I don't give it a second thought, though, concerned only with discovering what they’ve sent. I pull the packing tape off the box and open it. Two pieces of paper are lying upside down, so I quickly move them out of the way, place them on the counter, excited to get to the prize inside.
A brown eye in a bed of black fur stared up at me. Glazed over. Unseeing. Blood, black and ominous, covers the dismembered body of the white cat with a black patch over one eye which crossed my path during my run on the beach.
"Oh, my God." I jump back from the box, tossing the box back onto the counter. My stomach roils, and I suck in large gulps of air to stave off the need to vomit. It doesn’t work, and I wretch into the sink, bile splattering the stainless steel.
Alex, Jake, and Thomas rush over to the box and peer inside.
"What the fuck?" Alex yells.
Jake picks up the sheets of paper I hastily discarded and briefly scans them before handing them over to Alex.
"It's the cat," I mumble, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "It was on the trail when I went running the other day. I almost tripped over it. I remember it because of the patch around its eye."
Jake and Thomas are peering into the box while Alex looks at the papers.
"Who would do this, Alex?" I ask, searching his face for an answer that makes sense.
Alex hands me one of the sheets of paper. "John."
Arctic cold seizes me. My hand shales uncontrollably as I take the papers from him. There is a picture of me when I was on the beach earlier in the week. I'm on my knees after collapsing, crying.
Scrawled in red ink is a message.
You're next, bitch!
"This was the day I went running, the day I cut my leg." I remember feeling as if I was being watched, and briefly considered it was John, but decided there was no way for him to get onto the estate. Guess I was wrong. So, very wrong.
I glance at the other sheet Alex has in his hand. "What's that?" I ask, reaching for it.
Alex pulls it away.
"Alex, let me see it."
A grim line crosses his mouth. Reluctantly, he hands the other picture to me. This one shows Alex with a red X across him.
"No." I shake my head, as if that will make the threat against Alex disappear. Pressure builds in my chest, as if a hundred-pound weight sits on top of my heart.
Alex snatches the pictures from my hand and thrusts them at Jake. "Call Reyes and get him out here."
“Don’t touch the box. There could be fingerprints on it.” My voice trembles. “We’ve probably destroyed any latents on the pictures. Not that I think John left anything that will link this back to him. He’s too smart for that…if he’s caught, he won’t be able to get to me.”
Alex places his hands on my face. "It'll be okay, Kylie. He's not going to get anywhere near you."
I stare at Alex. I don't care about myself. John will always come after me…I’m the prize he must win at any cost. The thought of John hurting Alex in any way—because of me—I can’t bear it. And I won’t let it happen.
Alex and I sit at the breakfast table across from Sergeant Reyes and Sergeant Carter. Once again, they take our statements and gather information about John. Carter scribbles in his notepad as Reyes looks from one picture to the other now safely sheathed in clear plastic evidence sleeves.
Reyes is less confrontational with Alex, which puts me more at ease. He pushes the picture of Alex across to us, and reluctantly I move my eyes to it. Nausea hits me full-force again. I place my hand over my mouth. John is planning to kill the only man I have ever truly loved. The one person I cannot live without.
"Any idea where this was taken, Mr. Stone?" Reyes asks.
"Looks like in the hallway outside the courtroom before Kylie's opening statement in the Trevalis trial."
A wave of tension washes over me. "How did John get past security? They all know him there. Weren't they informed there's a warrant for his arrest?" I glare at Reyes as if it's his fault.
"Yes, Miss Tate," Reyes says softly. "They were given all the information. I promise you that I'll get to the bottom of this and find out what happened."
Alex grabs my hand and reassuringly squeezes it.
I look back at the picture of Alex. A lump forms in my throat. He's completely oblivious to the fact that a madman was close enough to take his picture while planning his death.
The note. The one left on the defense table during the trial. What did I do with it.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell them, and head down the hall to the library where I dumped my briefcase. I rummage through it until I come across the red envelope. Grabbing a tissue from the box on the table next to me, I carefully grab a corner of the envelope and pull it from the briefcase.
I return to the kitchen, and place the envelope on the table in front of Carter.
“This was waiting for me after recess one during the trial. I’d forgotten about it until now. It’s from John. I recognize the handwriting.”
“What the hell, Kylie?” Alex asks.
“And why didn’t you report this at the time?” Reyes is staring blankly at me, which is not unusual for him.
“I was focused on the trial. I had a big examination of a key witness and I had to block it out.” I look over at Alex. “I dropped it in my bag to talk to you about later that night, but I forgot. So much was going on—” I stare across the table at Reyes, “—I forced it out of my mind to concentrate on the trial.”
Reyes and Carter leave with the evidence bags in hand and our statements properly executed. Alex, Jake, and Thomas huddle in the study, talking low so I can't hear them.
I wander into the library and browse through the books, but my mind is a million miles away. Various scenarios of how John can get to Alex run through my mind. I shake my head, take a deep breath, and try to push them away. But no matter how hard I try, the feeling of dread which has pervaded every facet of my body, of my heart and soul, will not lessen. My head is throbbing, and nausea is constantly churning in my gut. Every beat of my heart feels like the hand of the devil is squeezing the life out of me.
The air shifts in the room. Alex comes up behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. "You okay, baby?" He kisses the back of my head, his voice slightly muffled as his lips linger against my hair.
I turn around to face him, and my heart drops. The lines in his forehead have deepened. This is causing so much stress and fear. It's not fair to Alex. He shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes.
"I'm good."
My attempt to belie his uneasiness works as he smiles back at me, running his hands over my hair.
"Okay, I'm going to do some work in my study, and then I'm yours for the night."
I wrap my arms around his waist. "Really? To do with as I please?" I kiss his neck.
"Whatever your heart, or any other parts, desire."
I chuckle as he pulls my chin up and kisses me. As he turns to leave, my heart sinks. An overwhelming sense of sadness shoots through me at the loss of his physical presence. It's silly, I know, since he'll be in the next room. He saunters across the hall and disappears from my view. The lump in my throat sticks there, no matter how hard I try to swallow it down.
Returning my attention back to the bookcase, I grab Northanger Abbey, one of my favorite Jane Austen classics. I've read it a hundred times, and right now, I need something familiar to help calm the anxiety building within me.
After shifting into various positions on the chaise in an attempt to find some comfortable spot, I finally get up and walk across the hall to Alex's study. I need to be close to him. He's staring intently at his computer screen, engrossed in whatever he's reading. I take him in, marveling at how handsome and perfect this man is, even in his imperfections.
After a moment, he glances up at me, smiling, but his eyebrows squished together. "What's up, baby?"
"Nothing." I sink into one of the leather club chairs. "Will I disturb you if I read in here?"
Alex's eyes light up. "Of course not."
I nestle into the chair, pull my legs up, and open my book. A kind of peace comes over me with our closer proximity. I need to see him, feel the shift in the air whenever we're near, hear his breathing.
I never would've imagined this man would be my lifeline, the calming entity I've been craving my entire life. But here he is, the man the world sees as a shrewd businessman, a womanizer, and a player. But they don't see who he truly is. That's all for me. And they'll probably never understand he is far from the man they portray him to be—never understand how I could fall in love with him, how he is everything I will ever need.
My eyes grow heavy, and the weight of the afternoon's events finally take their toll. So many thoughts race through my mind, visions I never want to see played out in real life. I want to shut my brain down, shut everything down, and escape reality for a while. Sleep offers me that reprieve, and I finally allow myself to drift off, knowing Alex is safe, just a few feet away.