Page 35 of Coming Undone

“Stephanie!” Her mother answered the phone in a panicked squawk. “Where are you?”

“Hello, Mom.” She kept her voice calm. Reasonable. She always hoped to transfer that tranquility to her mother, but it had yet to work in twenty-some years of trying. “I’m with my friend Danny, remember? I’m fine.”

“I’m so glad you’re not alone,” she rushed on. “Our publisher forwarded me some of your fan emails by mistake.”

“Excuse me?” Stephanie’s gut churned.

She backed up so that her spine was against the boathouse, bracing herself. Her mother’s publisher had been the same company to buy Stephanie’s memoir of her captivity, but Stephanie had little to do with the firm after her book was released. Besides, she had no intention of ever writing another.

“It must be a glitch in the system that they forwarded the files to my account instead of yours.” Whitney Rosen paused and Stephanie could picture her pacing the floor of her bedroom overlooking Park Avenue in New York City. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have even read the emails if you’d answered my calls, but I started to worry something had happened to you and I thought I would check the fan mail in case there was anything threatening, and… little did I know how threatening they would be. I had no idea you attracted so many crazy people.”

Oh God. Stephanie didn’t waste time wishing she’d just returned her mother’s calls because her mom would have opened that file from the publisher either way.

Still, the gut churning she’d felt now turned to chilly fear even as she reminded herself that her mother frequently overdramatized things. She knew that her book had been controversial for advocating for peace and understanding between cultures when so many people livid with one side or the other. She’d just thought some more dialogue would help, but the sentiment hadn’t been popular at the time.

“I have an agency that vets the letters and email I receive, remember?”

“I know, but you never said that you’ve been threatened,” her mother’s voice went up an octave. “One of these emails includes your photograph with a target superimposed on it. We need to contact the police.”

Stephanie drew Danny’s jacket tighter around her shoulders as she realized she was shaking. Hard.

“Mom, please calm down.” If only for my sake. “Forward the letters to me and I’ll pass them along to the agency that reviews them.”

“These could be your kidnappers hunting you down,” her mother reminded her, her words edged with dread. “Do you know how easy it is to find an address for anyone in this country?”

“My kidnappers are not looking for me.” Stephanie took deep breaths. She’d been in counseling – both for dealing with her mom and for dealing with her captivity. So she knew that getting wound up before she knew the facts was counterproductive.

Still, she’d never fully recovered from that fear of the dark after having a bag over her head for hours. Standing on the edges of the party right now didn’t help the rising anxiety either. But she sure hadn’t expected this from her mother’s frantic need to get in touch with her.

“You don’t know that,” her mom snapped. “You need to talk the Murphy family about this. They have the kind of resources that could protect you-”

“No.” Frustration nudged away some of the fear. “I have been dealing with the letters for years. I’m not suddenly helpless just because I’m seeing Danny.”

She heard the bite to her words, knowing she only reacted strongly because it would be far too tempting to run to the shelter of Danny’s arms. But that wasn’t happening. She’d fought too hard for her sense of independence when she came home from the Middle East.

Strained silence lingered and Stephanie took the moment to walk back toward the lights of Danny’s parents’ home. Back toward the sound of laughter and music. A bonfire on the edge of the festivities lit up more of the night, drawing Stephanie like a beacon.

“Will you at least pick up your phone when I ring through next time?” her mother asked on the other end of the airwaves, the words stilted with wounded feelings.

Guilt niggled even as Stephanie knew she needed to stand strong.

“I’m at a party for Danny’s homecoming, but I will call you in the morning, okay?” She tried a gentler tone, her gaze sweeping the grounds for any sign of Danny.

Stephanie told herself she would not collapse into his arms or pour out a bunch of unjustified worries to him when she saw him. She just wanted to feel that heat between them, certain it would burn away the icy cold in her belly.

“Very well.” The clipped words barely hid Mom’s anger. “But if you don’t contact the police by morning, I will.”

The call disconnected, adding more guilt to the mixed cocktail of emotions swirling through her.

“There you are.” Danny emerged from the shadows, making her jump. “Are you okay?”

I’m fine. She wanted to say it. Wanted to issue a sexy invitation that would make them forget everything but sizzling attraction.

But what if someone truly wanted to find her? Hurt her? Worse, what if someone hurt Danny in the process?

She was shaking her head before she made a conscious decision to confide in him. Damn it. Damn it.

“What is it?” His arm was around her, steering her away from the party toward the house. “Is everything all right at home?”

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