Page 69 of Pretty Little Trigger
CHAPTER 68
Kaden
Time doesn’t pass.
It drips.
It’s been weeks since I last saw Alana in person.
Since she found out who I really am.
I don’t sleep much. I don’t eat often.
But I still watch her.
Always. The camera feeds I rerouted months ago still run in the background—her studio, her building, the street out front.
Nothing illegal. Nothing obvious.
Just… coverage.
She gets up earlier now.
Goes to Pilates. Showers there.
Heads straight to work.
Head down. Mouth tight.
Eyes empty. Her routine hasn’t faltered.
If anything, it’s sharper.
She’s focused. Distant.
Efficient.
And I tell myself that’s a good thing.
That she’s rebuilding.
That maybe this is her version of healing.
I watch her like I breathe.
And sometimes? Seeing her on the screen is the only thing that keeps me alive.
It calms me. Steadies the shaking.
Reminds me she’s still here.
Still walking, still moving, even if she’s not mine anymore.
I don’t love her out loud, but I love her all the same.
My phone rings. It’s Jaxton.
I answer. “Yes, Jax?”
“Boss, I’ve got a lady downstairs at reception. She’s looking for Hunter.”
I sigh, turn to the security feed.
Tessa. “It’s alright, Jax. You can bring her up.” I hang up.
He’s a good kid. Going places.
Loyal. Controlled. Good at what he does.
Not as good as Samuel was, though.
But Samuel was wild.
Undisciplined. And he touched Alana.
I’d shoot him all over again.
The door swings open.
Jax steps aside and Tessa walks in like she owns the building.
Hair flawless. Eyes fire.
Jacket tossed over one shoulder like she’s about to start a war.
“Pretty fancy office for a bodyguard,” she says, voice laced with amusement.
“I’m surprised you knew where to find me.” I don’t bother asking why she’s here.
“You’re watching her,” she says, nodding toward the screen.
I don’t respond.
“I don’t know what happened between you two,” she continues.
“And honestly? I don’t care.” She steps closer.
Her voice drops. “But she’s not okay, Hunter.”
The name punches me in the gut, but I don’t flinch.
I can’t. Instead, I frown and say, “She’s working. Focused. She’s—”
“She’s shrinking,” Tessa snaps.
“She’s stopped eating. She’s running on caffeine and spite and five hours of sleep. She zones out mid-sentence. Her eyes look like bruises.” Her voice softens.
“She’s not okay.”
My jaw tightens.
“You’re reaching.”
Tessa leans in.
“She’s not built to break. But she’s starting to. And you don’t even see it, because you’re too busy watching her from a goddamn security feed.”
“Tessa,” I start, voice low.
“Come see her,” she interrupts.
“In person. Tomorrow. Lunch. Plant .” She points toward the screen.
“Just walk in. Watch her. For real.”
I shake my head.
“I don’t know what you want me to do, Tessa. I’m no good for her.”
And that’s the truth.
She’s better off without me.
Tessa steps back. Exhales slowly.
“I pushed her to go,” she says softly.
“New York. She leaves in two days.” Her voice trembles just slightly.
“And now I don’t know if any part of her is coming back.”
“There’s nothing I can do for her,” I say softly.
“Dammit, Hunter,” Tessa snaps, cutting me off.
“Just come see her. That’s all I’m asking.” Her voice softens again, almost pleading.
“You can decide what to do after that.”
The silence stretches between us.
The feed behind me flickers.
Tessa turns to leave.
The door clicks shut.
The room goes quiet.