Page 23 of Straight to You

A few moments later, the door swings open, and I swear the world stops turning because there’s no fucking way this is happening right now.

There’s no way Kyle is standing in the doorway holding a laptop in one hand and a coffee in the other.

What the fuck?

“Gentlemen,” the officer says, utterly oblivious to the way my entire body locks up.

“This is Kyle Pearson. He’s in town consulting for us.

He’s our security and cyber guy, so he’d be the best one to look at those emails with you.

As I mentioned, he’s been looking into the other ones you’ve reported. ”

I see his mouth move and I hear the words, but they don’t make sense. There’s no way.

Kyle? A consultant? For the police?

But then his lips curl into a smirk, and he looks a little too pleased. “Funny running into you guys again. Seems we can’t stay away from each other, huh?”

I clench my jaw so hard it hurts. Funny isn’t the fucking word for it.

There’s no way Kyle is here to help us with this case. The case where we’re ninety-nine percent sure he’s the one behind the emails. Not the one fucking helping us.

The more I think about it, the sicker I feel.

Kyle has shown up every single time we’ve left the house since he first talked to us—at the bar, the farmer’s market, and now here. Not to mention, we’ve barely left the house, and instead of looking nervous or surprised, he seems thrilled that we’re here asking for his help.

And he’s wearing that fucking leather jacket.

But my thoughts snag on something he told us the night we met—he said he was in town for construction.

I’m kicking myself right now because we should’ve called the police to come to my house. Instead, I was so anxious to get out of there. We should’ve had them sweep for fingerprints, but I’m sure Kyle would’ve blamed it on him being there if they had found any of his DNA.

This whole thing is so fucked.

I glance at Logan, and if looks could kill, Kyle would already be a dead man. Logan is glaring at him with the most hateful look I’ve ever seen on his face.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice level as I speak. “You…work here?”

Kyle lets out a chuckle at my disbelief.

“Sort of. I’m helping upgrade their systems, making sure they’re up to date with tracking and cybersecurity.

Pretty much all the station’s online systems. You’d be surprised how outdated some of these police systems are.

Your case came in right on time for me to be able to take it over,” he smiles, and I want to puke because it all clicks.

It’s why we’ve had no luck tracing the emails.

The police have been handing them straight to Kyle, the same person who is sending them.

Matt’s been chasing a dead end this whole time because Kyle’s already two steps ahead, orchestrating the entire thing.

He sent those cryptic emails knowing we wouldn’t be able to trace them.

Knowing that he’d be the one the officers would turn to since he’s their ‘cyber guy.’

“I thought you were here for construction?” Logan asks, his voice cold, every word laced with suspicion.

“Huh. Did I say that?” he taunts.

Logan’s jaw tightens. “Yeah. You did.”

Kyle lets out a small chuckle once again, and it makes my skin crawl. “Must’ve been a misunderstanding,” he says easily. “I do plenty of consulting gigs. Last one was construction. Plus, I’m working on a construction project of my own right now for something special.”

Logan shifts slightly next to me, but I don’t take my eyes off Kyle. He’s too smooth and far too comfortable lying through his teeth. He should never be in this room.

He must not want Logan asking questions, though, especially in front of his temporary co-worker, because he leans forward across the table just enough to invade Logan’s space. “What’s with all the hostility, man? Thought we were getting along just fine, no?”

To his credit, Logan stays eerily calm, despite the tension rolling off him in waves. “Hostility?” he repeats, tilting his head. “That’s an interesting word choice. Considering all the hostile shit Ryder’s been dealing with lately.”

Kyle’s expression doesn’t change.

Does he know we’re onto him? If he does, he doesn’t seem worried about it. But why would he be when he’s the one standing here with a temporary badge? The truth is, unless we can catch him red-handed, his word will always and forever outweigh ours.

I don’t know what the hell we’re supposed to do next. But Logan’s not backing down.

“You know all about that, right, Kyle?” Logan taunts. “Some creep’s been emailing Ryder and got this delusional crush on him. Thinks I’m the problem. I’m sure you read all about it in those emails you’ve been sending. I mean, reading.”

Kyle blinks, but gives nothing away, and my heart is in my throat at Logan’s jab.

“Sounds pretty messed up,” he says evenly.

That piece of shit.

I force myself to open my mouth and speak this time.

“Yeah. Someone’s been sending me emails for a couple of weeks, and now they’ve left a note inside my house.

” I let that last part sink in, watching his face for any reaction.

“They think we’ll end up together which is fucking laughable,” I add, lacing the words with as much disgust as I can manage.

Kyle’s jaw ticks slightly—and I know I’ve hit a nerve.

Good.

I lean in a little, just enough to twist the knife.

“They think they know me. Think I’d want someone who hides behind anonymous messages, breaks into my home, plays these mind games instead of acting like a decent human being.

” My gaze stays locked on his. “They don’t get it.

I’d never want someone like that. Not in this lifetime.

Not in any lifetime. That’s a small, pathetic man I’d never respect—let alone desire. ”

Logan picks up on my cue, his tone sharp and cold. “It’s sad, really. Thinking that if they invade someone’s life enough, or scare and isolate them, they’ll get what they want. Like that’s love.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s not. It’s pathetic.”

The smirk on Kyle’s face slips for a second before he pastes it back on. That small crack is all I need to know we’re getting to him.

The officer who introduced us to Kyle clears his throat. “We’re going to keep looking into it,” he says, clearly trying to redirect before things explode. “Kyle’s been working hard online for you both, but if there’s anything relevant?—”

Logan cuts him off. “And why exactly did you hire him?”

The officer looks at Logan for a moment before answering. “Kyle’s consulted for us before. He came with a strong recommendation. Does good work.”

Kyle turns that punchable smirk toward us, and I want to knock it off his face. “I’d be happy to work more closely with you, Ryder,” he says smoothly. “Tech is my specialty, but maybe I can come see your place, check if there’s anything else you might have missed.”

A chill runs down my spine. He’s toying with us.

Logan stands suddenly, and he leans over the table, a dangerous smirk of his own spreading across his face. “That won’t be necessary,” he says. “We’ve got it covered.”

Kyle glowers at Logan, and I can’t tell what he dislikes more, him or his answer. He wants control—to know every move we make, and he knows we’re refusing to give that to him .

The other officer breaks the tension. “We’ll take that note you found so we can make copies of it, and we’ll keep the original in your file.”

Logan pulls it from his pocket and hands it over. “It was tucked under his keyboard,” he says, glaring at Kyle the entire time. “We’re positive it wasn’t there before the stalking started.”

The officer reads it, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “Alright. We’ll send it to forensics to analyze the handwriting, but I’ll be honest—these cases are tough. Without a clear suspect, there’s not much to go on.”

I almost laugh at the irony of this situation.

“Actually,” the officer continues, turning to me, “I’m sure you’ve been asked before, but is there anyone you think who might’ve left this?”

Sure, officer. He’s sitting right next to you—your trusted consultant. I want to say it so badly, but I can’t. Not yet. Not without proof.

“No,” I lie, my voice even. “No one comes to mind.”

Logan shifts beside me, and I know he wants to speak up badly, but we’re not stupid.

We have to play this right. If Kyle is working with the people who are helping us and they view him as a co-worker, are any of them really on our side?

Or would they dismiss us and take his side?

Saying it too soon could ruin our chances of turning Kyle in with proof.

Kyle, on the other hand, is the picture of ease. Smiling away over the fact that we didn’t say his name.

The officer closes the file and stands. “Alright. We’ll get moving with this new evidence. If anything else happens, call us immediately. In the meantime, I recommend setting up some security cameras in and around your house, Ryder.”

I nod, my stomach sinking because, of course, that’s their solution—more waiting. More hoping whoever this is—Kyle, probably—slips up and hands them the perfect evidence so they can close the case without actually doing anything.

We stand, and Logan nudges me toward the door with a steady hand at my lower back. Every instinct in my body screams to get the hell out of here fast, but Kyle must see it as his last chance to rattle me.

As we’re about to step out of the room, he leans in, voice low and sharp as a blade. “Don’t worry, Ryder. I’ll keep an eye on you—closer than ever.”

Those few words hit like a shock to the system—everything in me goes still, and my lungs forget how to work. The edges of my vision blur, and my brain’s screaming at me to move, but, once again, my feet won’t budge.

Logan catches it immediately and lunges between Kyle and me, shielding me like a wall.

“Leave us the fuck alone,” Logan growls, his voice lethal. “There’s no world—none—where he’d ever fucking choose you. Take the fucking hint. He doesn’t want you!”

Kyle’s smirk only deepens, like he thinks Logan’s bluffing. Then, with a voice that makes panic claw up my throat, he mutters, “We’ll see,” before shoving past us and leaving the room.

My breath starts to come out in short, shaky bursts.

I’ve never had a reaction like this, not one that’s so physical and all-consuming to the point I can’t control my body.

I’m trying to breathe, trying not to cry, and the next thing I feel is Logan’s hands cradling my face.

He gently tilts my face to meet his eyes and runs a thumb over my cheek, bringing attention to the tears that are falling.

“Baby,” he coos. “Are you okay?”

Baby ?

Baby.

The word hits me like a lifeline and drags me back to him, to safety.

I meet his gaze—concern etched in every inch of his face—and I hate that I’ve scared him. But I need him. Throwing my arms around him, I grip him to me as tightly as possible, pressing myself into his chest to breathe him in. “No, take me home.”