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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The elevator doors closed with a soft ping, sealing them inside the metal box. Olivia’s reflection stared back at her from the polished doors.

Her pale skin. Her tense jaw. Her eyes as they darted around the space.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, painfully aware of Tyson’s proximity in the confined space. Painfully aware that, for some reason, she ached to be closer to him. To soak up his strength.

“You okay?” Tyson’s voice was low, meant only for her.

She nodded quickly. Too quickly.

The elevator hummed as it descended, each floor making her heart rate climb. Every stranger who might step in. Every camera that might be watching. Every opportunity for someone to find her.

When the door opened to the parking garage, the shadows seemed to stretch toward her. The concrete cavern amplified every sound—distant car doors, footsteps, the drip of water from somewhere unseen.

Olivia stepped out, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space.

Tyson placed his hand on the small of her back, warm and steady. The gentle pressure should have been comforting, but it only heightened her awareness of everything else around them—the row of pillars where someone could hide, the flickering fluorescent light in the far corner, the way their footsteps echoed in perfect rhythm.

“I don’t see anyone.” Tyson’s eyes methodically swept the garage.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not here,” Olivia whispered.

She clenched her keys until the metal bit into her palm.

A car engine started somewhere in the distance. The sound bounced off concrete walls, making it impossible to locate the source.

Olivia froze.

Tyson’s hand pressed more firmly against her back, drawing her subtly closer to him.

“Keep walking,” he said, voice casual but eyes alert. “I see your car just ahead.”

The distance to her sedan stretched like a gauntlet. Twenty steps. Fifteen.

Her skin prickled with the sensation of unseen eyes tracking their movement.

A sudden scraping sound from behind a nearby column sent Olivia’s pulse racing.

Tyson stepped slightly in front of her, angling his body between her and the noise.

A moment later, a homeless woman emerged, pushing a shopping cart.

The woman nodded at them and continued on her way, but the tension didn’t leave Tyson’s shoulders.

They reached her car, and Olivia fumbled with her keys, dropping them once before managing to hit the unlock button. The beep and flash of headlights seemed obscenely loud in the garage.

Tyson checked her back seat, then scanned the area once more while she opened her door.

“I’ll see you later back at the house,” he said, his voice controlled but his eyes communicating so much more. “And please be careful.”

The space between them crackled with unspoken words.

His hand hovered near her arm, not quite touching, as if he wanted to do more than just see her off.

She caught the subtle flex of his jaw, the slight lean of his body toward hers, quickly checked.

Olivia nodded, wishing she could voice the tangle of emotions in her chest—the apology sitting on her tongue, the gratitude that made her throat tight, the fear that made her want to ask him to stay with her.

Instead, she slipped into the driver’s seat and closed her door, watching through the window as Tyson stepped back, his eyes still scanning the garage.

As she turned the key, a single thought eclipsed all others: What if being careful wasn’t enough?

* * *

When Tyson arrived home, he found Wes sprawled on the couch.

He’d been thinking about Olivia since she left the office.

He’d checked the security footage for his building. He’d seen nothing.

Sheri had confirmed the custodian stopped by.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the incident was connected with the casino.

Was it his fault Olivia was being tormented like she was?

He paused in the doorway. “Anything good on TV?”

Wes sat up and changed it to another channel. “Not really. Just wasting time mostly.” He paused. “Olivia told me about the roses.”

That didn’t surprise Tyson. He knew Olivia and Wes were close. “It was quite the shock.”

“I can imagine.”

He glanced around. “Speaking of Olivia, where is she?”

Wes nodded. “She went upstairs to answer more emails. It’s like a never-ending job, especially when you’re as popular as she is.”

Tyson didn’t hide his grin. “I bet she was the homecoming queen, wasn’t she?”

“Just as sure as a rodeo girl wears cowboy boots.” Wes chuckled.

Tyson shifted, his eyes narrowing. “I’m curious, Wes. How long have you known Olivia? You two seem close.”

“We started working together back when she was a news reporter in Louisiana.” Wes flipped the TV off and gave Tyson his full attention. “I was the one who told her she should take the job with Static Entertainment.”

“It sounds like she went through a horrible ordeal.”

“She did. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but Olivia hasn’t been the same since.”

A frown tugged at his lips. “That’s to be expected.”

“She says she found religion during those days underground. We all thought her faith would wear off, that it was just a reaction from her trauma. But it stuck. Olivia changed from a materialistic party girl to a fun-loving, girl-next-door type.”

Tyson let those details settle in his mind. “I can’t imagine what she went through.”

“She hates talking about it. I can’t say I blame her.”

“I can’t either.” Tyson let the information sink in. It really did explain a lot.

Wes’ words remained heavy on Tyson’s mind for the rest of the day. The thought of someone hurting her . . . it made anger rush through his veins.

Anger like he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Suddenly, all he wanted to do was protect her. But would Olivia let him?

And if she did, would Tyson be crossing a boundary he shouldn’t?