Page 17 of Reckless
“Your message said it was urgent. I cleared my afternoon for you, assuming this is about Catherine’s publicist you emailed me about. How’s the security detail working?”
“They’re doing just fine. But the creep is messaging her again.” I forward him a copy of the latest messages. “He’s toying with her. Waiting until she’s nearly comfortable again before he starts messaging her. We’ve spoken to the police, but I keep getting the feeling their hands are tied until they either get more evidence or she winds up dead. I’d rather neither of those incidences took place.”
“Catherine would string me up by my balls if I let something happen to her. She’s taken a liking to her, but even if she didn’t, I don’t like it when men harass women. I’ll have one of my contacts run a background check on her, see what information kicks up. Maybe there’s someone from her past who wants to cause trouble.”
I can’t imagine someone wanting to hurt Phoebe, but you never know. There are some messed-up people in this world. “I appreciate it. I’m afraid whoever is stalking her is going to escalate. If you had seen her apartment, you’d understand. It was trashed. Whoever did it was pissed. It almost feels like they’re fixated on her.”
“Why don’t we also set you up with some more surveillance gear and a tracker for her phone?”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I’d be.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Jackson shoots off a text, and within a half-hour, we’re loading the gear into my GT. Phoebe won’t be pleased, that’s for sure, but better pissed than dead.
Chapter Nine
Phoebe
My phone has a GPS tracker on it, sending information to a secure Cloud in case something happens to it or me. More cameras have been wired into my security system, and Griffin and his military friends are still doing a deep dive into my friends, family, and acquaintances. I have nothing to hide—well, almost nothing—but it makes me feel more vulnerable than ever.
I try to act as if everything is okay because I don’t want the son of a bitch after me to think they’re getting under my skin. Maybe it’s stupid of me, but I don’t want him to think he’s won.
Luckily, work keeps me busy enough. Filming has ramped up, which means the requests for interviews and press coverage have as well. This has the added benefit of keeping Griffin busy so he can’t hover over me every second he isn’t in a scene. To think there was a time when he kept his distance.
The truth is, I feel safer when he’s around.
I shouldn’t, and I don’t want to, but I do.
Still, when he can, he’s in my closet of an office on set, pretending to be prepping for interviews. I had to wrangle a chair for him so he’d stop stealing mine. Even then, he barely has room to stretch out his legs.
“You know I don’t need you to babysit me. There are plenty of people on set. I don’t think anything will happen to me here.”
He doesn’t look up from the script he’s reading. “A lot of things can happen in a crowded room. I’ll stay out of your way, but I’m more comfortable when I have eyes on you.”
Funny, but the thought of his eyes on me doesn’t send the same kind of shivers down my spine as the ones I get when I think of the person watching me.
“It’s been a week since the last message, and you already have Jackson’s men patrolling set. Don’t you think something else would have happened by now?”
The first night I spent back in my refurbished apartment after the latest message, I hadn’t been able to sleep. I’m still not completely comfortable there, but I refuse to leave. Maybe it’s dumb, but I don’t want to let them run me out of my new life when it’s only just started. I have my gun, the security system, and more locks than Fort Knox. Except, no matter how many times I tell myself I’m safe, it doesn’t seem to penetrate the revolving door of anxious thoughts.
What-ifs have haunted me so often that they’ve become second nature.
I thought starting my life over would also help me change my frame of mind.
Apparently, running from your problems doesn’t solve them.
Who would have thought?
Griffin turns a page, his expression serious and his gaze focused on the script. “They could be waiting until you feel safe again to make their move. Maybe terror is a part of the appeal for them.”
Gee, that’s so comforting.
I sigh and try to focus on the email I’m composing, but it’s no use. The constant feeling of surveillance and anticipation has my whole body buzzing with nervous energy. It certainly has nothing to do with being stuck in a small room with Griffin. Okay, maybe that has a little to do with it, but I already have enough going on. I don’t have time for a crush on Griffin McNalley. Nope. Not at all.
“If aggravating me is part of the appeal for them, they’re doing a great job because I’m thoroughly ticked off.”
He meets my eyes for a second, sending a searing heat through my body. What is it about eye contact that can be so thrilling? I force myself not to react. “Try not to let it get to you,” he says and looks back at his script. “They’re bound to trip up at some point, and we’ll be ready when they do.”