Page 34 of Reckless Flames

As I drifted off to sleep in Ben’s arms, the fear and uncertainty that had become my constant companions were momentarily silenced, replaced by the steady beat of his heart and the quiet strength of the bond we shared.

Chapter twenty

Ben

The next day after Sophie’s return, she showed me that latest letter from the stalker.

“Maybe I should have shown this to you right away, but last night, I literally couldn’t stand to think about it anymore. I just needed to get away from it all for one evening.”

I gave her a hug and then read the letter. As I did, a cold fury settled in my bones.

“Sophie, this is...this is fucking serious,” I said, my voice a low growl as I paced the length of the living room, the letter feeling like a ticking bomb in my hand. “He’s ramping up to some action—some insane plan he’s got in his delusional head.

“I know, Ben. I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in her eyes like a punch to the gut. “Madi and I have already taken it to the police. This is just a copy they made for me to show you.”

“Good,” I muttered somewhat absently, my thoughts scrambling to figure out the best move to make next. There must be something else we could do; I couldn’t accept that there was nothing.

I turned to her suddenly. “Did they say whether they’ve finished their examination of the letters for fingerprints or anything else that might lead to the guy?”

“No, they just had more questions for us, and I forgot to ask about the letters.”

“No problem. I’ll call Detective Roberts later and ask her about that.”

Sophie nodded, her usual fire dimmed by fear, and it killed me to see her like this—diminished, hunted. “What if they can’t catch him, Ben?”

I stopped pacing and took her by the shoulders. “Then I’ll take care of it myself. I swear to you, Sophie, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

When I did get ahold of the detective, she told me that they hadn’t found any fingerprints on the first three letters but were still trying to find the source of the paper used. Also, they hadn’t had time to run any tests on the last letter received.

I watched Sophie, saw the way the situation wore on her, the shadows beneath her eyes growing darker with each passing day.

It was during a long, sleepless nights that I made a decision. The authorities didn’t seem to be making any progress at all, so I’d have to take matters into my own hands. I reached out to some contacts from my past, people who weren’t bound by the same rules and regulations as the police, people who could find anyone.

“Sophie, listen to me,” I said one evening, the urgency in my voice pulling her attention away from the thousand-yard stare she’d adopted of late. “I’ve got some people looking into this. People who know how to find information that the cops can’t.”

She looked up at me, hope warring with fear in her eyes. “What kind of people, Ben?”

“The kind who get results,” I replied, not willing to elaborate on the methods they might employ. I couldn’t afford to let my moral compass interfere with Sophie’s safety.

The days that followed were tense, a cat-and-mouse game played in the shadows. Every unknown number, every unexpectedknock on the door set our hearts racing, but we faced each day together, an unspoken vow that we wouldn’t let this threat tear us apart.

It was during one of these evenings, the two of us holed up in my study, that the call finally came. The voice on the other end was one I hadn’t heard in years, but the news it delivered sent a chill down my spine.

“We’ve got a lead,” the voice on speakerphone said, the words heavy with implication.

Sophie’s hand found mine, her grip tight, her fear a tangible thing. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor I felt in her touch.

“It means we might be close to finding this bastard,” I answered, the promise of action reigniting a spark of determination in her eyes.

The conversation that followed was a mix of strategy and reassurance, of planning our next move while trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy in our lives. But beneath it all was an undercurrent of tension, a shared understanding that we were on the brink of something that could either end this nightmare or plunge us deeper into the abyss.

The lead we received might be a game-changer. At least, it was a sliver of hope in the relentless darkness that had enveloped our lives since the stalker made his presence known.

Sophie watched with a mix of apprehension and gratitude as I briefed the security team, a little larger group, now, of professionals whose stern faces and sharp eyes missed nothing. “You sure this is necessary, Ben?” she asked once we were alone, her voice tinged with a weariness that had become all too familiar.

I turned to her, my resolve firm. “I’m not taking any chances, Soph. Not with you.” The fierceness in my voice surprised even me, but it was nothing compared to the fire that had taken root in my chest, a burning need to protect her at all costs.

Her hand found mine, her touch gentle but grounding. “I know. It’s just...all of this,” she gestured to the men patrolling the grounds, “makes it feel like we’re prisoners here.”

---