Page 43 of Rear View

Xavier

Stalker. She had a stalker. She had a fucking stalker !

The words hit harder than the crash and almost knocked me on my ass. My hand gripped the ground, fingers digging into the ice and snow to hold me in place.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Xavier, and I know it was selfish and wrong, but you were mine and something he hadn’t touched and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I was afraid of the fallout if you knew and I just wanted to keep you, but you deserve the truth because you have this big life, and I don’t want to risk anything for you. ”

The tread on my mind’s tires caught and torqued when realization struck like a fist. Her not having social media, or voicemail, her not going out, or datin’, or drinking, or answering unknown numbers. And her reaction when I’d posted her picture.

Because some piece of shit had been stalking her. My goddamn girl! Christ. It all finally fit. Every damn piece.

“Say something,” she begged.

I dropped my knee to the ice with a thud. My arm snapped around her and I dragged her to my chest. “I’ll kill the motherfucker.”

A sob tore from her as she pressed her face into my neck. I hooked my grip under her ass, and I stood, taking her with me. Turning, I eyed Miles. “I’ve got her.”

He gave a sharp nod like he’d expected it, saluted, then climbed in his car and backed out of the driveway.

I unlatched my door and carried my girl inside. Heading for the kitchen, I set her on the island and stayed between her legs. Stripping off our coats, I tossed them over the smoked oak table before my palms landed on the gray marble counter by her hips.

I kept my cool on the surface for her, but underneath, I damn well seethed. “Who is it, darlin’?”

I’d never been so ready for violence. I wanted his blood on my hands. Wanted to beat the asshole until his DNA was indecipherable. Until he was good and goddamn dead.

A name, dream girl. Just gimme a name.

She shook her head before it fell. “I don’t know.”

My brows pushed low. “You don’t know?”

Again, she shook her head and her shoulders dropped like she felt guilty.

Nah. Not gonna fly.

I tucked a knuckle under her chin and brought those copper eyes to mine. They’d dulled. That shine gone. I hated it. “How long’s he been a problem?”

She twisted my shirt between her dainty fingers. “Two years.”

My chest seized. Two years with some stranger on her heels, haunting her steps. Watching. Waiting. How scared had she been?

I exhaled, good and slow. Setting my hand along her jaw, I tracked my thumb high, then grazed it over the scar above her brow. “He do this?”

She leaned into that touch and gave a soft nod.

“What else’s he done to you, dream girl?”

“He watches me.” Her breath hitched and she sniffed.

“Sends messages.” She twisted the material of my hoodie tighter, the creases around her eyes deep like there was more to say, but she was afraid of sayin’ it.

And fuck me if I wasn’t terrified too. Not for me.

I could give a shit about myself, but hearing he’d hurt her…

“What else?” I pushed.

“He,” she swallowed hard, “he was outside my apartment this morning.”

I crushed my eyes closed and set my forehead to hers, my hands gripping the edge of the counter until it dug deep into my skin. “Today?”

“Yes.”

That morning. He’d come for her that fuckin’ morning ! I’d hunt the prick, tear him limb from limb and feed his corpse to the dirt.

I reopened my eyes and rolled my shoulders, pulling myself together for her, ’cause she needed me more than I needed my rage. Clearing my throat, I asked, “You keep any of those messages?”

“I kept everything, just in case.”

Just in case she needed it. Just in case the worst happened. Just in case the prick got to her. Again. “Show me.”

“I don’t—” Her voice hitched, and more tears filled those eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Xavier. Some of it”—moisture trailed down her cheek—“it’s really bad.”

“I’m in this now. No turnin’ back.” I slid my hands into her hair. “I wanna know what we’re dealin’ with.”

She raked her touch up my ribs. “There are things in there…”

“There’s nothing you can’t tell me, yeah,” I reminded her. “So, tell me, Ryah.”

Her hiccupped sob was stained with regret. “There are pictures.”

My stomach hardened. “Of you?”

She tried to look away, but I held her steady. Her eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at me, darlin’.”

They stayed closed for several long-ass seconds before they reopened, wide and shining. She shook. Scared. And the thought of it fuckin’ gutted me.

“I’m here.” My fingers burrowed deeper along her scalp. “I ain’t going anywhere,” I said, then continued, “He got pictures of you?”

“Yes,” she breathed, angling forward, her head against my shoulder as she gave me her weight. “He took them through my computer.”

That tape over her camera. My jaw clenched as I fought not to bare my damn teeth. His death would be slow. Painful.

“I didn’t know people could do that,” she said. “I had it open when I was getting changed.”

“And he was watchin’.”

A small nod. “I’m so sorry, Xavier, I didn’t realize—”

“No apologies. You did nothin’ wrong here.”

She slipped her touch over my wrist, then turned her face into my palm. So damn soft. So damn scared. I bracketed my arms around her and pulled her to my chest. “Got any ideas on who it could be?”

She rubbed her ear, her voice muffled against me when she answered, “No.”

I hated preppy boy, didn’t think he was capable, but he was a dick to his core, so I still needed to ask. “You sure it ain’t Christian?”

“Yeah.” She nuzzled into me. “I’m sure.”

My hold flexed, burrowing into her back when I repeated, “Show me.”

She tipped her head up to see me and her eyes creased at the corners. “I still don’t think—”

“Be scared of him. Be scared of anything else. But don’t ever be scared of me.” I slid my hands along her jaw. “Show me, Ryah. I can handle it.”

Ducking her chin, she nodded, then pulled out her phone, trembling hard when she passed it over.

I made to give it back. “Put in your password.”

She pushed it toward me again. “I don’t mind you having it.”

My brow furrowed. “You sure? ’Cause that ain’t what this was about.”

“I’m sure.”

I inclined my head and waited.

She pulled that lip between her teeth. “Zero, four, zero, seven.”

My stare narrowed and I gave her a cocky side-eye, pleased when my favorite shade of pink spread over her cheeks. “My birthday?”

That pink deepened. “Yeah.”

I entered the code, and it popped open.

“The files are saved here.” She leaned in and tapped a box-shaped app on the screen, bringing it up. All of it.

And holy. Fuckin’. Shit!

I scrolled and scrolled, doing a quick pass to get the scope. There were hundreds of emails. Thousands. She’d taken screenshots of texts. Written notes about her police contacts. Where, when, who. I scanned the dates, my blood running cold at the one from that day.

Spotting another folder titled VM, I pointed to it. “What’s this?”

“Voicemails.”

I wanted to open it, but not in front of her. Later. ’Cause she didn’t need to relive it. Relive him .

She shrank in on herself. “I was walking home by myself the night he attacked. He beat me pretty badly. I tried to fight back but he was too strong.” She was trembling so hard, it made her hair shake. “I try not to do that anymore.”

I inhaled deep to control the madness beggin’ to take over. “He ever do anything else?” Say no, darlin. Please, Christ, say no.

“No.”

My lungs released on a shudder. “You recognize anything about him?”

“Nothing. He wore all black and it was dark out and he disguised his voice.”

Chickenshit prick. “What’d the cops say about all of it?”

“They told me there wasn’t much they could do. Without a name or description, they won’t investigate, and I can’t get a restraining order.”

Course they’d said that. But a piece of paper wouldn’t stop a guy like him. I’d lived with one of ’em most of my life. If he gave a shit about the law, he wouldn’t be tracking her in the first place. Dicks like him made their own rules.

“He slowed for a while. More reminders that he was there than threats. But things have gotten worse again.”

’Cause he’d figured out I was in the picture, and he didn’t like it. “He been blackmailing you?”

“Not yet.” She swallowed hard. “I’m afraid he will, though.”

Why show her he had the pictures otherwise? My jaw locked. My fists were balled so tight, my knuckles turned white, and I worked to keep my face calm.

Her foot bounced, leg jumping on repeat.

Guilt punched my chest when I set a heavy palm over her knee. I’d wanted to send a message to her—to the goddamn world—that I was proud she was mine, but still… “I should’ve asked to post that picture.”

“You didn’t know,” she said, low and soft. She looked me over, taking in the bruises that started along my arms and neck. The cuts over my face and hands. “You’re okay, though?”

“A little roughed up, but I’m good. Doc ordered Alec and me off for a few days so we’re ready to go for Baythorn next week.” But shit, the idea of leaving her made my stomach knot.

“Your crash”—she stroked her fingers along my neck—“it was my fault. I yelled at you and then—”

“Not on you.” Tucking her phone in my pocket, I stepped into her again. “The drive shaft was screwed. Couldn’t be avoided.”

She pressed her lips to my jaw. “I was so scared, Xavier.”

Me too. Was the first time I’d watched a roll bar buckle. Last thing I saw before snow filled the car was Alec’s gray face. I thought we were good and done. But she didn’t need to hear that. My girl had enough to scare her.

She nudged my throat. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice a whisper. “This isn’t what you signed up for.”

My arms cinched her tight. “I signed up for you, Ryah. All of you. Every goddamn piece. You’re part of my life.” The best fuckin’ part. “The only way I walk is if you tell me to, yeah?”

Her body settled and she hummed, “Yeah.”

“From here out, I drive you where you need to go.”