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CHAPTER SIX

Even though it was close to midnight, Olivia was wide awake.

She’d been pacing her room for the past twenty minutes, waiting for exhaustion to hit. It hadn’t yet.

Everyone else was probably in bed. Instead, she felt wired.

Finally, she put some shorts and a T-shirt on and wandered downstairs.

A TV blared in the distance.

Following the sound, she found Wes in the family room. It appeared he had the same idea.

“What are you watching?” She plopped on the couch beside him.

“The news.” He turned the volume down.

“Anything exciting?”

“Only that ratchet stuff from our competition.” Wes shifted toward her. “What are you still doing up?”

“Can’t sleep.” Olivia watched the newscaster on the screen without really listening.

“Nightmares again?”

Wes was one of the few people she’d spoken to about what had happened. He’d been a shoulder to cry on, and she appreciated him for that.

But she wasn’t ready to tell him her fears. She knew she’d most likely sound paranoid.

She shook her head. “Too much on my mind.”

“You still worried about this assignment?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m worried. Reluctant, perhaps.”

“Tyson seems pretty cool.”

Olivia had to agree. “Yeah, he does. Surprisingly down-to-earth.”

Maybe there was more to Tyson Stone than his muscles and good looks. His answers during their interview today had been intelligent enough.

She smiled as she remembered Tyson searching her room for junk food. He’d even had a sense of humor.

Olivia felt Wes watching her.

She met his gaze and drew her eyebrows together. “What?”

“You’re grinning. You’re crushing on Tyson Stone, aren’t you?”

She scowled at him. “No, I’m not crushing on him. I’m not a teenager! Besides, it’s obvious what he thinks of me.”

Wes sent her a questioning look.

“I mean, I know I can be silly, but he actually called me Kiddo.” She popped her head to the side. “Was that really necessary?”

Wes snickered. “Maybe it was a term of endearment. Bless his heart, right?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“I personally think dating again would be good for you.”

“Lyle disagrees—not that I want to date anyway.”

“Lyle, Lyle, Lyle.” Wes rolled his eyes.

For some reason, her therapist got on Wes’ nerves with all his “psychological mumbo jumbo,” as Wes called it.

Wes loved teasing her.

He knew, however, how hard it had been on her when her last boyfriend had broken her heart. He’d cheated on her, and Olivia hadn’t seen it coming.

The hurt she’d felt afterward had thrown her off-kilter.

“My love life isn’t that important. Let’s talk about your dating history, Wes,” Olivia countered. “Starting with your flavors of the week. First, there was Amanda. Then Molly, and then Amiee—with two Es. That’s just in the last month.”

“You caught me.” Wes held his hands up in surrender. “When there’s something I want, I go after it. It’s the Texas way. Nothing wrong with that.”

She gave him a look.

Then her exhaustion hit her, and she stood.

“This conversation has been fun.” She took a step away. “But, alas, all good things must come to an end. I’m tired and need to go to bed.”

“Olivia.”

She paused and looked over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You know I’m just giving you a hard time, right?”

“I do.” Olivia tilted her head at her friend, thankful for the levity he brought to her life. “Goodnight, Wes.”

She started back to her room.

Nighttime was what she dreaded the most.

The darkness reminded her too much of her time in captivity.

But she was a big girl and could handle this.

That didn’t stop the shiver from raking through her body, however.

When she walked into her room, she froze.

It was dark. Strangely dark.

Her nightlights were gone, she realized as dread pooled in her stomach.

Her heart pounded in her ears, hard and rapid.

What could have happened to them?

* * *

Tyson heard the gasp in the distance. It sounded sharp, panicked.

He was in the kitchen grabbing a late-night protein shake when the sound made him pause mid-pour.

That had come from Olivia, hadn’t it?

Setting down his glass, he moved quickly up the stairs and down the hallway. Three long strides, and he was at her door.

He knocked once, gently. “Olivia? Everything okay in there?”

Silence.

“Olivia?”

“I’m—” Her voice caught. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fine.

Tyson had been watching her carefully since she’d arrived. He’d watched the way her eyes constantly scanned rooms. The way she startled at sudden movements.

And then there were those nightlights she’d plugged in everywhere. Two in her bedroom. One in the bathroom. Another in the hallway.

That wasn’t normal.

“May I come in?” he asked.

More silence. Then: “Yes.”

Tyson slowly pushed her door open.

Olivia stood in the center of the room, the lights on overhead and her arms wrapped around herself. “They’re gone.”

Tyson froze, suddenly understanding. “The nightlights . . .”

“I’m sorry.” She straightened her shoulders, visibly trying to pull herself together. “It’s stupid. I just?—”

“No, it’s not stupid. And it’s probably my fault. Mrs. Castillo—my housekeeper—must have taken them. My cousin brought her kids here to stay last month. They’re afraid of the dark, so she always brings nightlights. Mrs. Castillo probably thought they left them behind.”

Olivia nodded, but her hands still trembled. The famous television host, known for her razor-sharp interviews and unflappable composure, looked terrified of something as simple as darkness.

“I have another one,” he said quickly. “In the storage closet. Give me two minutes.”

He returned with not just one but three nightlights and a small lamp.

“I like to be prepared.” He set the items down on the dresser. “My mom always said you can never have too many sources of light.”

He plugged in the nightlights, one near the bed, one by the bathroom door, and kept the third as a backup.

“Thank you.” The relief was palpable in her voice. “I know it seems childish.”

Tyson studied her a moment. The Olivia Montgomery he’d seen on television was confident, bold, and fearless.

This woman before him was clearly carrying invisible wounds. He knew about her abduction and escape. He could only imagine how that event had changed her.

“It’s not childish to be afraid of something,” he said carefully. “Especially when you have a good reason.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, it seemed like Olivia might say something. Explain the fear etched into the tight lines around her mouth and the shadows beneath her eyes.

Instead, she simply offered him a small smile. “I didn’t think Tyson Stone would be so understanding about something like this.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He shrugged. “That’s supposed to be your job, right? Digging deep, finding the story beneath the surface?”

“Yes, well,” she gestured around the room, “looks like you’re the one finding out my secrets instead.”

“We all have things we’d rather keep to ourselves. Get some rest, okay? I’m just down the hall if you need anything.” He moved toward the door, then paused. “And Olivia? The darkness . . . it doesn’t get to decide who you are. You do.”

As he closed the door behind him, Tyson knew he’d just seen the first crack in the carefully constructed facade of Olivia Montgomery. Despite himself, despite the fact that getting involved with a reporter was probably the worst idea he’d had in years, he wanted to know more.

Not for the cameras. Not for her show.

Just for her.