Page 18 of Guarding Her Heart
Jenny nods, her hand reaching out to grasp mine. “But why would he do this? Why now? Why won’t he just leave me alone?”
“I don’t know, but to be sure, I’m going to talk to some people I know, to make sure it’s him using a burner phone.” I say, my mind already running through a list of contacts from my time as a SEAL. “We have ways of tracing things like this. I’ll see what I can dig up and then I’ll confront him.”
“Ethan,” she says softly, squeezing my hand. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I reply, leaning in to kiss her gently. “We’re in this together.”
We spend the early morning together, the tension from our conversation lingering but not overwhelming the bond we’ve formed. There’s a strength in our connection.
After breakfast, Jenny heads off to work as I make a few calls to some old contacts, trying to determine if this really is Richard and what the fuck his problem is.
I spend the afternoon going over plans for Hooplas with the guys. But in the back of my mind, the unease continues to grow. I can’t afford to be complacent. Not with Jenny’s safety on the line… just in case.
“Dude – where’s your head at?” Reid asks me as we sit at his dining room table looking at the architect’s drawings of Hooplas.
I decide to tell my friends what’s going on. Maybe they can help us. “Both Jenny and I got text messages from unknown numbers – warning each other to stay away from the other. We’re pretty sure they’re from her ex-husband using a burner phone – he’s not as smart as he thinks he is – but just in case, I have some contacts making sure.”
“What the fuck?” Declan says as he pulls out his phone.
“And,” I continue. “I kicked his ass the other day down at the beach.”
All five of them are looking at me, waiting for more. “And? Did you only kick his ass or is there a body in the bed of your truck we need to bury?” Hudson asks. “Because I’m not above digging a hole if you need one.” The others all nod their heads in agreement.
I appreciate my friends having my back. I shake my head, “No. No bodies… yet. I just explained how life was going to happen from here on out and to move the fuck on with his life, making sure to keep away from Jenny.”
“So, what’s with the random texts, then? Do you think her ex is behind them or is there something she’s not telling you?” Jax asks.
I hesitate, “I’m not sure. He doesn’t come across as the kind of guy to do ‘random’. He’s the one that approached me and threw the first punch. Plus, I’m not sure how he would have gotten my phone number? My personal information is so buried because of my SEAL work, he’s definitely not smart enough to figure that all out by himself.”
“Do you want me to look into it at the police station? I could call Eli and ask him to check with his sources. He’s started doing undercover work, so he may be able to help. You know, tap into his contacts?” Jax offers.
I think about it for a second. Do I want to involve my friends? I don’t think I really have a choice. “Yeah. Can you call him and see if he can just keep an ear to the ground and let me know if he hears anything? I’ve also reached out to some of my Navy buddies. Maybe something will pop.”
“You got it. I’ll have him reach out to you if he hears anything.” Jax says as he’s texting Eli with a screenshot of the message from my phone.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t even think about it. We’ve got your back and now that you’re with Jenny, she’s family now. You don’t fuck with family.” Reid says emphatically.
Late in the afternoon, I get a call back from one of my contacts—a guy named Pete ‘Bullfrog’ Smith, who specializes in digital security and was instrumental in getting me and my SEAL team in and out of sticky situations. He’s good at what he does, and if anyone can trace these messages, it’s him.
“Kasper,” Bullfrog says using my call sign, his voice crackling through the phone. “I got something for you.”
My heart races as I grip the phone tighter. “What did you find?”
“The number’s been bouncing around through a few different servers, trying to mask its origin,” Bullfrog explains. “But I managed to trace it back to a burner phone purchased in Miami. No name, no credit card—just cash. But here’s the interesting part: I found a record of some recent calls made from that same phone. One of them was to a number that’s been flagged in a few investigations down there.”
“What kind of investigations?” I ask, my voice tense.
“Organized crime, human trafficking, drugs mostly,” Bullfrog says. “The number belongs to a guy named Vincent Torres. He’s been on the radar for a while. But he’s slippery, always manages to stay one step ahead of the law.”
“Vincent Torres,” I repeat, trying to place the name. “Why would someone like him be interested in Jenny and me?”
“I’m not sure,” Bullfrog admits. “But if Torres is involved, it means there’s more to this than just some angry ex. Be careful, Kasper. This guy plays dirty.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, my mind racing. “I owe you one.”
“Just watch your six,” he warns before hanging up.
