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I’d never needed my big, protective goof of a brother more. Without another thought, I hit his name on speed dial.
He picked up immediately. “Wow, you’re up?”
“Yes.” Even I heard the quiver in my whisper.
“What’s wrong?” I could picture him standing at attention with that fierce protectiveness in his voice.
I must’ve been silent too long, forming my words.
“Olivia,” he growled as the faint jingle of keys sounded on the other end of the line. “I’m coming over. Right now.”
“I...” I didn’t know what to say, my mind spinning, everything centering on the note still on Elizabeth’s floor.
“Just tell me you’re both safe,” he bit out, true fear coating his voice.
“Yes. We’re safe.” I sank to sit on the edge of my bed as my legs became weak from the adrenaline drop. “Just scared.”
He mumbled something on his end, a sleepy Vanessa murmured back, then a door slammed. “What happened? Do you need the cops again?”
I thought of my slashed tires. “Probably.”
“Fucking hell, Olivia. Details please.” His SUV roared to a start and the sound changed as his phone switched to Bluetooth.
“Vanessa already filled you in on last night, I guess?”
“With the babysitter? Yes.”
“She was too scared to go home last night, so I let her spend the night after the cops cleared the place. She’s extra nervous because she’s got history with an abusive ex. Recently, she mentioned seeing a guy at the park when she was with Elizabeth, then last night...” I sucked in a breath.
“So, she thinks her douchebag ex-boyfriend is fucking with her?”
I stood and paced to the window that faced my front yard. I drew back the blinds enough to peek at my car with four flat tires that felt very personal. “I don’t... I’m not sure.”
He was silent a long moment. “What aren’t you telling me?”
You can’t hide from me. SHE IS MINE.
Was that Sofia? Or . . .?
“Just hurry up and get here. I’ll explain everything then.”
“Will you be okay until I get there?”
I glanced at my closet, where our dad’s old shotgun was hidden. “Yes.”
When we hung up, I hurried and got dressed, ran a brush through my hair, and yanked it up into a ponytail. I checked on Elizabeth and Sofia again, then quietly stepped outside to wait for my brother, crumpled-up note in hand. I drew comfort from the sunshine that had chased the fog away and that life had resumed as normal on my quiet street—cars were driving by, a lawnmower was running a few doors down, Mr. Thompson had come out in his robe to get his newspaper. I refused to feel threatened in the light of day, yet I still had my cell phone clenched in my sweaty hand, ready to dial 911 if I needed to.
For the first time since stepping outside that morning, I glanced over and looked at Sofia’s little car parked at the curb. Everything seemed fine over there. No flat tires. No notes.
SHE IS MINE . . .
A chill rippled over my skin as I contemplated those words for the thousandth time.
A few minutes later, Camden’s black Mercedes G-Wagon flew into my driveway and was barely in park before he was barreling out and loping toward where I sat on the front porch steps.
“You alright?” Concerned blue eyes raked over my face as if searching for wounds.
I stood and sagged into his strong arms, soaking up his reassuring warmth. “I am now.” The tears started fresh again, soaking his t-shirt as I clung to him.