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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Olivia dropped her phone as a scream escaped.

This couldn’t be happening. How had someone gotten into her room?

Multiple heavy footsteps sounded behind her.

Then, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Tyson, Wes, and Chandler flew into the room.

Tyson grasped her arm, turning her, and searched her face for answers.

“I . . . there are—” she started, unable to find the words.

“What happened?” Wes asked. “What’s going on?”

“My bed,” she whispered.

Their gazes jerked toward the mattress.

No one said anything until Wes finally asked, “How did those roses get there?”

“He’s been in the house,” Olivia murmured.

“ Who ’s been in the house?” Tyson asked.

“Whoever left those roses. Unless it was one of you—which I know isn’t the case.”

Wes turned to Tyson. “Do you have security cameras?”

“Of course.”

“We need to see that footage.”

“I assure you, no one has gotten into the house,” Tyson said. “My guess is that Hobbes left these here. Let me talk to him.”

He grabbed his phone and made a call. A moment later, he turned back to them.

“Hobbes said they were delivered with a note asking they be placed in your room, Olivia,” Tyson said. “I didn’t tell him anything about the roses, so he didn’t know your history.”

More silence stretched.

“It’s time to call the police,” Wes said quietly. “You’ve gotten three sets now—if you include the ones at Tyson’s office.”

She pulled her arms tight across her chest. “They’ll think I’m crazy.”

“No, they won’t,” Chandler added. “I’ll call them for you.”

She started to argue but stopped.

There was no use.

When Chandler stepped away to make the call, Tyson moved closer, his studious gaze on her. “You’re shaking.”

“I’ll be okay. It’s nothing I haven’t been through before.” Her voice sounded dull as she said the words.

Tyson rubbed her back with one hand, soothing her nerves. She felt safe with him near, as if nothing and no one could hurt her.

If only that were true.

“The police are on their way.” Chandler joined them again.

Olivia picked up her cell phone—she didn’t see any reason to leave it on the floor. “Whoever left these called me.”

Wes’ eyes widened. “What? How’d he get your number?”

Olivia shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“What did he say?” Tyson asked.

“He asked me if I liked the roses he sent.”

Wes muttered something under his breath before pacing away from her. “He’s sick. It’s gotta be a copycat or someone who wants to mess with your head. Olivia, have you thought about wrapping up this show early and heading back to New York? Maybe your best bet is to get away from all this.”

“Going back to New York might not be a bad idea, Olivia.” Tyson’s voice sounded grim as he said the words.

She considered leaving for another moment.

But fear had dictated far too many of her actions already.

No more.

“It’s my call, and I’m staying. I’m finishing this assignment. I’m finishing this nutrition plan, even if it kills me.” As soon as the word kill left her lips, Olivia regretted saying it.

But her statement very well could be the truth.