Page 31 of Protected from Malice (Blade and Arrow Shadow Team #1)

He nods. “We’ll be talking to Cole about it, giving him the most recent updates. And he mentioned discussing some other things, as well.” He pauses. “I’m not trying to keep secrets from you. I’m honestly not sure what we’re going to talk about. When I know more, I’ll tell you.”

“It’s fine.” I don’t want to turn into that nosy, demanding girlfriend. I trust Rafe. Since we’ve been together, he’s been incredibly honest with me, even though I know it was difficult for him. “I’ll just do some cleaning while you’re gone.”

Rafe darts back over to the bed and captures my lips in a hard and fast kiss. “I’ll bring back some food from that all-day breakfast diner you’ve talked about.”

“Sounds good.” My heart jumps before I add, “You’re still staying for a couple weeks, right? Or—” I do a quick mental calculation, since it’s been three days since Rickard was arrested and we moved out of the hotel. “Eleven days?”

His hand comes to my cheek. “Two weeks for sure.” An unreadable expression flashes in his eyes. “Or maybe more. If you’re open to it.”

Warmth fills my chest. “More sounds good to me.”

At the first trill of my phone, my pulse jumps into overdrive.

From the distinctive tone of it, I know it’s not a call, but a visitor setting off the alarm system. Or, preferably, Rafe back early from his meeting.

Thanks to the modified security at my house, when someone comes to the front door I’m alerted three times.

First, from the alarm that sounds the moment someone steps onto my property.

Then, the second motion sensor installed on the front porch.

And finally, the little video feed that pops up on my phone.

I’ll admit, it’s a lot when you’re not used to it. But I’m not complaining. Not in the slightest. After everything that’s happened, I’m glad for the extra protection.

And honestly, I’m not sure Rafe would have left me alone here without it, even though he knows the danger is over.

Before he left, he made me promise not to go outside without him, saying, “I know it sounds like overkill. And it probably is. But it would make me feel a lot better knowing you’re inside and safe. ”

Then he pulled out the big guns. “I’ll be worrying about you the entire time,” he added. “I can’t help it. I just want to know you’re okay.”

So I won’t go outside. Not today, at least. Next week, though? When the weather is supposed to hit record highs and we’re predicted to have a string of three sunny days in a row? When I’m itching to get all my patio furniture set up and invite all the guys over for a barbecue?

Then I’m going outside, whether Rafe’s here or not.

Anyway, I’ve been keeping plenty busy inside, vacuuming and dusting and scrubbing. I’ve replaced all the blankets and sheets in the guest bedroom, in case Indy changes his mind about staying here once he checks out of the hotel.

Because Indy’s staying in Portland. I still can’t believe it.

“I’m done living across the country from you,” he told me yesterday. “I don’t need to be in Silver Springs. Not anymore. So I’ll look for a job here. An apartment?—”

“You can stay with me,” I offered immediately. “I’ve got plenty of room.”

But Indy just cast me a disbelieving look.

“And have to worry about running into my best friend and little sister making out?” He rustled my hair, messing it up the way I always used to yell at him about.

“I’m good with you two being together. Really.

But I don’t want to worry about what I might hear at night. ”

Fair enough. So Indy’s going to look for a place on his own, which is probably better for him. After all, maybe he’ll meet a woman and want to take her home. Kiss her without worrying about his sister walking in on them. And in the meantime, he and Tyler are sharing the second suite at the hotel.

“Tyler’s still figuring things out,” Rafe told me. “He’s been isolating himself for a long time, but I think he’s realizing it might not be the best thing for him. So he’s using this time to get some perspective.”

Personally, I hope Tyler stays in Portland, too. He’s so smart, he could definitely find a job at one of the tech companies in the city. And like Rafe said, this might be better for him. A fresh start, like it’ll be for Indy.

A fourth buzz jerks me from my wandering thoughts.

The doorbell. Which means it’s not Rafe, who knows the access code for the door.

In the seconds it takes to pull up the video feed, adrenaline surges. The familiar tightness in my chest increases. I know it can’t be anything bad; it’s probably just a delivery or something, but still . I think it’ll take me a while before I stop feeling jumpy about things.

But when I look at the feed, I release a relieved sigh.

It’s not an intruder. Not a dark-clothed man here to kidnap me.

Although that wouldn’t be very smart, would it—showing up at my front door at eleven AM on a Saturday to kidnap me?

Instead, it’s Gayla, a woman I know from down the street. We’re not friends, but we wave at each other and exchange pleasant greetings whenever we cross paths.

We don’t typically stop by each other’s houses, but I’ve had to bring some misdelivered mail to her on occasion. And judging from the envelope held in her hand, it’s likely she’s doing the same.

So I set my phone down and hurry over to the front door, speeding through the three locks I’ve gotten much better at unfastening. Once I get the door open, I smile at Gayla as I say, “Sorry to leave you waiting out here. I was cleaning?—”

“No problem.” Her gaze moves past me to scan the living room, no doubt noting the vacuum cleaner I haven’t put away yet. “You’ve been gone for a while, haven’t you? I know I always need to do a full house cleaning whenever I get back after a long trip.”

“A couple of weeks,” I reply. “Just freshening things up, you know?” I glance at the envelope in her hand. “Wrong mail again?”

“Yup.” She holds it out to me. “I could have put it in the mailbox, but I thought I’d hand-deliver it instead.”

Silence follows as her gaze roves around the room. “I like those pictures,” she finally says, gesturing at the cluster of nature photos I have on the wall above the electric fireplace. “Do you travel often?”

“Not too much. Sometimes I go visit my brother in DC, but I work a lot.”

Gayla nods. Then she steps past me and into the living room.

Well. I guess that’s settled. I never know whether to invite a neighbor inside or not. It’s a weird sort of relationship, I’ve always thought. I see them all the time, but we’re not close. We don’t talk about personal things.

But here she is. I’m not exactly going to kick her out now.

Shutting the door behind her, I turn in her direction. “So. I guess it’s supposed to be nice next week. Do you have all your patio stuff ready yet?”

Her features pinch for a second. Then she smiles. “Not yet.” A beat, and then, “I noticed the police here a couple weeks ago. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” I head over to where she’s standing, looking at the framed photos. “It was a break-in, which was scary. But the police caught the guy. So you don’t have to worry.”

Gayla turns. Her mouth pulls down. “Do they think you were targeted? Or was it random?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I reply vaguely. Neighbor or not, I’d rather not get into the details of my attempted kidnapping and obsessive stalker slash would-be captor.

“Well.” She turns away from the photos to face me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

“It’s too bad,” she adds, “that everyone didn’t end up that way.”

There’s a flatness to her voice. “I think everyone ended up fine,” I reply.

Her eyes narrow. “ Did they?”

The first burst of alarm explodes in my chest.

Something’s not right.

“You know…” I take a few steps away from her. “I’ve got a lot more cleaning to do. So—” I wave the envelope for emphasis. “Thanks so much for dropping this off. But I should probably get back to work.”

“Or maybe…” Gayla reaches behind her. “You don’t.”

“What—”

She pulls out a gun.

Aims it at my chest.

It’s so close I can see the tiny etching along the barrel and the scratches on the handle.

“Gayla,” I gasp. “What are you doing?”

Her features contort with anger. “What I should have done months ago.”

I take an instinctive step away from her, and she lunges forward, smacking my temple with the gun.

Pain flares; hot and blinding. My eyes water. My head spins.

“Don’t fucking move,” she snaps. “This isn’t where I want to shoot you.”

What?

Nothing makes sense.

Why is my neighbor here? With a gun? And why does she want to shoot me?

“Gayla,” I start again, “Please. I don’t understand. Why are you?—”

“Because you ruined everything!” Her voice rises to a near shout. “It’s all your fault! And now I have to fix things!”

My heart is pounding so hard I think it might actually explode from fear.

I thought the break-in was scary. But this? A gun pointed at my chest held by a woman who looks on the far side of unhinged?

This is bad.

Very, very bad.

“Please. Will you just explain?” I ask. “Maybe I can help.”

Panic threatens to take over. My legs feel like jelly. Unforgiving bands of iron wrap around my chest. My breath comes in shallow, uneven bursts.

“Explain?” Gayla barks out a harsh laugh. And oh, crap . She really looks unbalanced now. “You want me to explain ?”

“Yes. Please.”

The pain in my head makes it hard to think. But there’s a niggling reminder somewhere. A memory that, if I can retrieve it, might help.

“Fine.” She jabs the gun against my right breast. “Sit on the couch. Don’t even think about going for the phone. Or I’ll kill you right here and screw the mess it makes.”

The mess?

Oh, crap.

All the blood.

“Okay.” I hold my hands up in the air. “No phone. I swear.”

As I slowly back towards the couch, I try to corral my fractured thoughts.

When will Rafe be back? If his meeting was at nine-thirty, and it’s after eleven now, maybe he’s on his way home already. Maybe?—

Oh!

The forgotten detail crashes into me in a thunderclap of clarity.

The earrings.

The earrings Blade and Arrow sent for me to wear, just in case something went wrong and the kidnapper got me.

The earrings with tiny GPS trackers in them. The ones I can press to trigger an alert that’ll let Rafe, Indy, and the rest of their team know I’m in trouble.

I need to trigger the alert. Now.

With my hands in the air, it’s the perfect time. It might be the only time.

So as I keep backing up, I slowly, carefully, let my right hand fall slightly. Just enough to brush my ear.

“What are you doing?” Gayla barks. “Hands up!”

“Sorry!” I yelp. But just before I raise my hand again, I press the center of the earring hard, just as I was instructed.

And I hope.

Pray.

Let Rafe be on the way home already.

Let me be able to drag out this explanation.

“Sit!” Gayla shoves me back onto the couch. “You want to know why I’m going to kill you? Fine!”

“Why? I’ve never done anything to you?—”

“Not to me!” Rage distorts her face. Spittle flies from her mouth. “To Chris! He was supposed to be mine! But no! He couldn’t stop obsessing over perfect Eden. So smart! So pretty! So perfect!”

Horror freezes my lungs.

“Chris?”

“Chris!” she roars. “The man who was supposed to be mine ! Except he can’t because you sent him to jail!”

Then she smiles, and it might be the most frightening thing yet. “But don’t worry. I’m going to fix things. And you won’t ever be a problem again.”