Page 17 of Can You Take It?

She stammers a bit, and her voice trembles before she manages to get a hold of herself. “Oh, that’s...I was with Liam last night, and I might’ve dropped it there.” She mumbles a low “sorry” under her breath.

“Dropped your phone? How the fuck do you drop your phone and not realize it?”

“I don’t know, it just...must’ve slipped off. I didn’t realize it.”

Before we can dig deeper into her explanation, Luna walks in. She eyes Izel in an uncomfortable way.

Luna tells me that the homicide detective, Lucas Brown, will be here to keep an eye on Izel while I’m gone. She hands me Lucas’s background check report, and I’m about to take a look when Izel cuts in.

“No way, I am not letting a stranger share a space with me.”

With a sharp exhale, I gather my composure. Izel is putting up one hell of a fight, but it’s for her own good.

“It’s for your safety. We can’t afford to take any risks with this case.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

It’s a losing battle, and I can see that. I nod at Luna, signaling that we’re at an impasse for now. She backs off, understanding the situation, and leaves the room.

Izel’s not done, though. She looks out the window and spots the two cops stationed outside.

“What the hell are these cops doing here?”

“I told you, it’s for your safety. We need to make sure you’re protected,” I sigh.

“This is just overkill. I’m not some helpless victim.”

“It’s not about you being helpless. It’s about ensuring that we get to the bottom of this case without any more casualties,” Noah says.

She crosses her arms, clearly not convinced. “I still don’t like it.”

I exhale, deciding it’s best not to push her further. “You don’t have to,” I tell her as I head for the door.

I’m almost tempted to tell her to at least wear pants, given her barely-there shorts, but that wouldn’t exactly be the professional way to handle things. I shut the door behind me and head back to my office.

I’m halfway through my third cup of coffee when Oliver, the security guy who always looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks, steps in, holding a manila envelope in his hand. His uniform’s wrinkled, and there’s a half-assed attempt at a smile on his face.

“Hey, Rick,” Oliver says, shuffling over to my desk. “Got something for you.”

I glance up, one eyebrow raised.

He hesitates, scratching the back of his neck like he’s forgotten what he came in for. “Uh, this came in the mail two days ago. Meant to bring it to you sooner, but, well, shit happens.”

“Two days, Oliver? You’re just now getting around to it?”

He shrugs, looking almost apologetic. “Yeah, sorry, man. Been swamped with all the other crap going on.”

I snatch the envelope from his hand, not even bothering to hide my annoyance. “Fine. Get back to whatever it is you do and let me handle this.”

I flip the envelope over, staring at the familiar, neat handwriting on the front. No return address, just my name scrawled in deep, almost aggressive strokes. I tear it open with more force than necessary, already knowing what I’m about to find.

There it is. The same fucking letter I’ve received four times in the last four months. The same sick little message from some psycho who gets off on playing with my head. The paper’s stained—no, not just stained—saturated with what looks like blood.

The handwriting is elegant, almost tender, and the words... Fuck, they’re trying to sound poetic, like this is some romantic gesture instead of a deranged mindfuck. The way it’s written, with all the care and detail, you’d think it was some sick version of a love letter. No, scratch that—it is a love letter. Just not the kind you’d want to receive.

It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with something like this, and it won’t be the last. Comes with the territory when you’ve got your face plastered all over the news as the guy who takes down the worst of the worst. People either want to kiss your ass or cut it off.

I grab the letter, fold it up, and shove it into my desk drawer with the others. Out of sight, out of mind. I’ve got bigger problems to deal with right now.

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