Page 11 of My Secret to Protect

I try so hard to keep my tone light, but he reads me and my questioning like a book.

‘Interrogating me, chief?’

I hold his stare and notice the uplift at the corners of his mouth. It’shim. I know it’s him. The look in his eyes confirms it, but I have no proof.

‘Just wondering, that’s all. It’s quite a drive for us, too, but we’ve been to work out at a new gym that just opened up nearby.’

‘I just fancied a change of scenery.’ He smirks. ‘Enjoy your wine, Bree.’ His attention drops to the bottle in my hand before he walks away pushing his cart, and suddenly, the idea of the wine turns my stomach, so I put the bottle down on the nearest hard surface and wait for Doug to pay.

I was quiet the whole ride home, telling my way too observant brother that I was just tired. Back at my house, I sit on my sofa and stare at the cell phone in my hand. I put it together—the timing of the texts—they started not long after we stopped dating. The random coincidences, bumping into each other at the restaurant and the mall, then today, the guy at the gym, that scent, and then the store so close by, and the way he glared at Doug as though he was too close to me. It’shim. All this time, I was terrified because I didn’t know who was sending me the messages. I didn’t know who was watching, but now that I did, I was even more scared than I already was. He’s a cop, a detective, he’s smart, and has God only knows how many resources at his fingertips. Before, I thought it was a small-town douchebag prank. Now, I have no idea what his next move will be.

Before I can overthink it, I open up the now-neglected message thread between Nolan and me, the last message, a thank you for saving him after we were both stood up, and I start to type.

Me:I know, Nolan. I know it’s you. Please stop.

I see the dancing dots of a reply being composed, and then, nothing. No reply comes. My heart sinks, and tears prick my eyes, and when the vibration in my hand alerts me to a reply, my stomach churns.

Unknown:Don’t test me, princess.

Don’t Worry, Princess

Bree

SinceIrealizedmymystery texter was Nolan a week ago, it’s gotten worse than it ever was before. He knows I know it’s him, and while he’s still staying in the shadows, he’s amped up his game, and I know why. He’s letting me know that I can’t stop him. He’s showing me that he can do what he wants without consequence, and he knows, cop to cop, that it’s eating me alive.

When I opened my front door the morning after the incident in the grocery store, I felt sick to see the bottle of wine I had abandoned right there on my doorstep. There was no condensation left on the bottle, letting me know it had been there a while if not all night. My heart raced as I backed up and locked my door. For all I knew, he could have been watching me through my window as I pieced the truth together. The messages have become daily—observations about my life, my movements around town—but he was nowhere to be seen—heisnowhere to be seen.

Dropping to my knees, I stare at the box on my porch. Since I opened the door to find the wine, I’ve found flowers, chocolates, perfume, and now this: a white box with a silver ribbon tied around it and a card with my name on it. I swallow hard and reach for the card.

You’re going to look beautiful tonight. I’ll pick you up at six. Nolan x

‘What the fuck?’ I say softly, confused, as I lift the top of the box and sit back on my heels in shock.

Emerald green satin sits underneath the jewel-strapped high-heel sandals and long box that I already know contains a bracelet or necklace. There’s another card, so I pick it up and turn it over to see the fancy invitation to the annual police department gala.Detective Nolan Joseph & Chief of Police Breanne Campbellis printed onto the invitation.

‘No!’ I drop the card, slamming the box closed and picking it up before rushing to my car and throwing the box onto the passenger seat. I’ve had it. I’m done. This stops today.

I drive—way too fast—to the city and pull into the parking lot of the police department. My heart beats hard against my ribs as nerves and anger course through me. Pushing open the door, I’m relieved I was ready for work when I found the box as my uniform earns me some respect from the guy at the front desk, and he doesn’t laugh the crazy lady back out of the door.

‘I need to see the chief,’ I say, not explaining further.

‘Um—’ he looks around like he doesn’t know his next move.

‘My name is Breanne Campbell. I’m the Chief of Police for Forest Falls. I have a complaint about one of your detectives, and I would like to take that directly to Chief—’ I lean back to look at the portrait on the wall and the plaque underneath, ‘—Cane, please.’

The officer nods and picks up the phone, placing a call before buzzing me through and directing me where to go.

When I reach Chief Cane’s office I take a breath, then knock, entering when I hear the call.

The somewhat portly man behind the desk stands, smiling and holding out a hand to me, which I take.

‘Chief Campbell, good to meet you.’

‘You too, Chief Cane.’ I offer a small smile as he gestures to the chair in front of his desk.

‘How can I help you today?’

‘Well, I’ll talk plainly.’ I exhale, then dive in. ‘I am being harassed by Detective Nolan Joseph.’ I see his eyes widen but don’t give him room to question. ‘We dated very briefly, and I ended it, and now he is harassing me, following me, texting me constantly, leaving gifts on my doorstep, and now this.’ I open the box and put it on his desk, then watch as he pulls on a glove from his desk drawer before he inspects the contents, turning over the card and reading the invitation.

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