Page 15

Finn spots me and motions me over, turning up the volume on the phone speaker.

"Nova's here now, Frank," he says. "Tell her what you just told us."

"Ms. Wilde," Frank's voice crackles through the speaker. "I'm afraid we have some concerning developments."

"What kind of developments?" I ask, moving to stand beside Finn, drawing strength from his solid presence.

"The FBI has identified your stalker. His name is Robert Vance.

Former military, dishonorably discharged three years ago for violent behavior toward female officers.

Since then, he's worked as a security contractor for various celebrities, including a six month stint on your security detail last year. "

The information freezes my core. Someone from my own security team. Someone I would have passed in the hallway, nodded to, perhaps even thanked for keeping me safe.

"I don't remember him," I say, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

"You wouldn't," Frank continues. "He was on your outer perimeter team, not personal security. But he would have had access to your home, your schedule, your routines."

"That explains how he got inside so easily," Finn says, his hand finding the small of my back, a subtle point of contact that grounds me. "And how he knew about the extraction."

"Exactly," Frank confirms. "But here's where it gets worse. The FBI raided his apartment in Los Angeles yesterday. They found photos of Ms. Wilde. Hundreds of them, going back over a year. Surveillance equipment. Detailed notes on her schedule, her habits, even her medications."

I feel sick, imagining this man watching me, studying me, planning God knows what while I went about my life oblivious to the danger.

"That's not all," Frank continues, his voice grim. "They also found maps of Montana. Specifically, the area around Grizzly Ridge."

The room seems to tilt around me. "He knows where I am."

"We can't confirm that," Frank says quickly. "But we have to assume it's possible. He had connections to your security team, and if he's been planning this for as long as we think, he may have placed trackers on your vehicles or belongings."

"What about here?" Cade asks, his tactical mind immediately assessing threats. "Any evidence he's in the area?"

"Nothing concrete. But a man matching his description bought camping equipment in Billings three days ago. And there was a credit card charge at a gas station about fifty miles from your location yesterday morning."

Finn's hand tightens on my back, his body tensing beside me. "He's hunting her."

"It's a strong possibility," Frank admits. "The FBI is mobilizing, but it's remote territory and they're thin on manpower. Local sheriff's department is being notified, but."

"But they're not equipped for this kind of threat," Finn finishes. "And by the time they organize a proper search, it could be too late."

The clinical way they discuss my potential murder should terrify me. Instead, I find myself oddly calm, as if watching the situation unfold from a distance.

"What's the plan?" I ask, surprising myself with the steadiness of my voice.

Finn looks at me, something like pride flickering in his eyes. "We assume he's already here. That the tracks Cade found yesterday were his. That he's watching the property, looking for weaknesses, planning his approach."

"And then what? We wait for him to make a move?"

"No," Cade says, shaking his head. "Waiting puts us at a disadvantage. If he's out there, we find him first."

"How?"

"We hunt him," Finn says simply. "Cade and I know these mountains better than anyone. If he's out there, we'll find him."

"And leave Nova there alone?" Frank's voice cuts through the speaker. "That seems like an unnecessary risk."

"She won't be alone," Finn says. "I'm calling in my brothers."

Cade nods in agreement. "Elias knows every inch of these forests. Boone has tactical medical training if things go south. Sawyer has law enforcement authority. And Luke's a better shot than any of us."

"And you?" I ask Finn, not liking where this is heading. "What will you be doing?"

His eyes meet mine, and what I see there sends a chill down my spine. Not anger or fear, but something colder, more calculated. The look of a predator preparing to eliminate a threat.

"I'll be ending this," he says quietly. "Once and for all."

"You mean killing him," I say, needing to hear it plainly.

"If necessary."

"It won't come to that," Frank interjects quickly. "The FBI wants this man alive to face charges. There are protocols, procedures."

"I don't care about protocols," Finn says, his voice eerily calm. "I care about making sure Nova is safe. Permanently."

"Finn." I touch his arm, feeling the tension vibrating through him. "I don't want anyone dying because of me. Not even him."

Something shifts in his expression, a softening around the eyes that only I can see. "We'll do it by the book if possible. But if it comes down to him or you..."

He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to. We all know what choice he'll make.

"I'm sending all the FBI files to your secure server," Frank says, breaking the tension. "Photos, psych evaluation, everything they have on Vance. Study it. Know your enemy."

"We will," Cade assures him. "Tell the FBI to stay out of our way until we call them in. Too many unfamiliar faces in these woods will only complicate things."

"I'll pass that along, but I can't promise they'll listen."

"Make them listen," Finn says. "Or this ends with a body bag instead of an arrest."

The call ends, leaving the three of us standing in tense silence. A trained killer is hunting me, possibly watching this cabin right now, planning how to get to me. I should be falling apart.

But, I’m still strangely calm.

"I'll call the others," Cade says, already reaching for his phone. "They can be here within two hours."

Finn nods, his mind clearly already formulating plans, strategies, contingencies. I watch him shift fully into the operative he once was, all personal feelings locked away behind professional focus.

And despite everything, despite the danger and the fear and the uncertainty of what comes next, I find myself falling even harder for this complicated, dangerous, utterly devoted man.

"I should get my things from upstairs," I say, needing a moment alone to process everything that's happening. "If your brothers are coming, I'm guessing I'll be relocating to a more secure room."

"The panic room off the main bedroom," Finn confirms, his eyes softening slightly as they meet mine. "It's the most secure place in the house. Reinforced walls, separate ventilation system, its own power supply. You'll be safe there while we deal with this."

"While you hunt the man who's hunting me."

"Yes."

I nod, accepting the reality of our situation. "Okay," I say, turning toward the stairs. "I'll pack my things."

I feel his eyes on me as I walk away, feel the weight of everything unsaid between us. The fear, the hope, the possibility of something neither of us expected to find in the midst of this nightmare.

Whatever happens next, whether Vance is captured or killed, whether I return to my old life or forge a new one here on this mountain, nothing will be the same after today. I know it with a certainty that should terrify me but somehow doesn't.

Because for the first time in my life, I'm not running from danger or hiding from feelings or pretending to be someone I'm not.

I'm standing my ground, facing whatever comes next with clear eyes and an open heart.

And I'm not doing it alone.