Page 24

Chapter 23

I wake up to my alarm blaring. Reaching for Tess, I find only an empty bed. I can still smell her scent lingering on the sheets, but it’s clear she’s been gone for a while. That she could slip out without me knowing leaves me unsettled. Even before I joined the military, I was a light sleeper. She’s elusive, my Tessa.

After grabbing a shower, I get dressed and head downstairs. My phone dings with a new message, expecting it to be Jace or my mom—or perhaps a certain blonde goddess—I’m surprised to see Jonah Miles’ name pop up on the screen.

Call me.

The message is short and to the point, just like Jonah. It’s been nearly two years since I’ve heard from him. We first met during basic training and quickly became friends, both running from our troubled pasts. It was pure luck we ended up on the same SEAL team. When we left the Navy, I returned home to my friends and family, and he went to work for the FBI.

I try calling him, but there’s no answer. After leaving a voicemail, I hang up the phone, thinking his lack of answering is strange .

Grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, I notice a black hair tie on the counter. I pick it up and run my finger across it, savoring the image of Tessa’s long blonde locks strewn across my pillow last night. Every encounter with her makes my obsession grow stronger, she’s seeped into my thoughts and dreams, she’s all I can think about. It takes everything in me to resist going back upstairs to rub one out, but I simply readjust my hardening length. Now is not the time, big guy. Looking at my watch, I head out the door and drive over to check on the renovation progress at the Cunningham residence. Jace is already outside, talking to the plumber. I glance over at what used to be the Johnson’s home; only black rubble remains. Days after the fire, it was confirmed that Conrad did indeed succumb to his injuries. Good riddance.

What if I hadn’t been here working on this house that day? How much longer would it have taken for me to encounter my Little Killer?

Little Killer . She’s a sight to see with a weapon in her hand. If I didn’t know better—I’d say she’s had military training. Maybe she’s a trained assassin. I snort at the ludicrous thought.

“Hey, man,” Jace calls out. “Everything’s going according to plan. We should be able to wrap up in the next week.”

“That’s good. So, what else do we need to check on today?” I ask.

“You mentioned that Jane Hill wanted us to do something for her. We could swing by there. Maybe Tessa’s at home. Or is she still in your bed, keeping it warm for you?” Jace wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“Man, grow up.”

“Oh, so she’s not in your bed, huh?”

“All jokes this morning, aren’t you?”

“I’m just saying. You’d have to be crazy to turn that down. So, if you aren’t interested—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that fucking sentence. She’s off-limits,” I growl, glaring at my best friend, fighting the urge to punch him in the face.

“Bro, I was just messing with you,” he says, backing away with his hands up mockingly. “I saw last night—there’s something going on between you two. And it doesn’t look like just sex to me,” he adds with a sly grin.

He’s far too observant for his own good. Changing the subject, I redirect the conversation toward safer territory, and we briefly discuss a few other projects we’re working on. He can handle most of this shit on his own.

I pat him on the shoulder before heading out. “You seem to have everything under control.”

“Hey, where are you going?”

I smirk back at him as I climb into my truck. “I’m going in search of a certain blonde.”

As I leave, I check my phone and find another missed call from Jonah. Immediately, I call back. After three rings, he picks up.

“This is Jonah,” he answers in a brisk tone.

“Hey, man, it’s Eli. Sorry I missed your call. How’ve you been?”

“Eli, I’m glad to hear from you. I’m good, just pretty fucking busy with work, but that’s nothing new. You?”

“Doing good. Living the small-town life, you know?” I chuckle. “Where are you these days? Still working with the FBI? ”

“Yeah, hard to believe it’s been almost eighteen months now. And that’s partly the reason I’m calling you. There’s something you need to know.”

A sinking feeling hits my stomach.

“There are developments regarding the girls who have disappeared around Lake Lucia during the last ten years. My team and I are heading over there in a few days.” Jonah pauses briefly before replying, “Eli, your sister’s case is being reopened.”

After recovering from the shock of what Jonah told me, I spend a couple of minutes staring at my phone before getting up to pace the room.

Jonah said he’d call when he arrives in town so we can meet up, grab a beer, and talk face to face. I tried to get more information out of him over the phone, but he wouldn’t elaborate further.

I’ve known about the girls disappearing from counties bordering the lake every year, yet those girls never turn up again. Paisley’s body was the only one found.

Grief and anger rise in me, but I try not to let it pull me under. Years of guilt and anguish regarding my sister’s death have plagued me. Maybe we’ll finally get some answers. I think of my parents, but hesitate to reach out. I should probably wait until I know more. There’s no reason to make them relive their trauma before I have more insight into the investigation.

Desperately needing a distraction, I send a text to Tessa.

Me: How’s my girl doing today ?

Tessa: I’m not your girl. What do you want, Stalker? I’m working.

Harsh. I thought she’d be a little more relaxed today. Guess not.

Me: Not yet. But you will be. Stop running, and I’ll stop chasing you.

Tessa: You sound awfully confident.

Me: Oh , I am. I’ll win you over yet. How about dinner tonight?

I see the bubbles pop up, but it takes a couple of minutes for her response.

Tessa: I can’t tonight . I have plans.

Me: What kind of plans?

Tessa: The kind that are none of your business.

Me: Damn, you wound me. And here I thought we were friends. Friends with benefits? We can be friends without benefits, I guess, but aren’t the benefits more fun?

Tessa: For Christ’s sake, I’ll text you tomorrow. I have to get back to work now.

Me: See, you want me. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.

Tessa: Goodbye, Stalker.

I grin, shoving my phone into my pocket. I’ll win her over. Soon. I have no doubts about it. Something has been nagging at me. Curiosity wins out, and I hop into my truck to head to her place. The best time for snooping is when she’s at work.

As I turn down Tessa’s road, I see her car backing out of the driveway, and a sense of dread rolls through my stomach .

What the actual fuck? She’s supposed to be at the hospital, saving lives, but here she is turning right, heading in the opposite direction. I follow, keeping my distance.

Thirty minutes later, she pulls into a run-down rest stop. It’s one of those shady places that people usually avoid. There are three other cars in the lot. She steps out of her car with a small duffle bag and heads toward the ladies’ room while I slowly pull into a nearby convenience store parking lot.

I wait, tapping my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, scanning the rest stop, as a woman walks out of the restroom. She has dark brown hair pulled into a ball cap, wearing black jeans and a tight black tee. I freeze, and a cold chill crawls down my spine. By all appearances, she could be a stranger. But I know that body—every curve, every contour.

What the hell is going on?

Cautiously glancing around, Tessa walks past her silver Lexus and slides into the driver's seat of a run-down black Mustang with tinted windows. I follow as she pulls out of the rest stop, my mind racing through a hundred different scenarios.

Twenty miles later, she turns onto a dead-end road two counties over. I can't risk her seeing me, so I take the first trail I spot and park. She slowly drives past a few rundown homes before reaching the end of the road and parking behind a tree. Climbing out of the car, she grabs the duffle bag and dons a black raincoat. I gaze up at the sky—heavy clouds are hanging low, and it looks like rain could pour at any moment.

She walks into the woods, and I give her a few minutes before following. Grabbing my gun, I slip out of the truck. I may not know this area well, but tracking someone is something I was trained for and have done many times before. She’s good at covering her tracks, though; she’s not making it easy. I spot a broken stick and the faint trace of a footprint and continue to move quietly behind her. Reaching the edge of a clearing, I stand behind a tree, watching. Waiting.