Page 82 of When Stars Collide (Chicago Stars 9)

“No, this is about security. Your personal safety. And this place can’t provide it.”

“So I’m supposed to pack up, and—”

“You’re already packed up.”

“—move in with you?”

Her skittishness wasn’t surprising, and he tried to make this more palatable. “Full disclosure—I’ve never invited a woman to move in with me, and I wouldn’t be doing it now if you weren’t living here. My God, you have a broom handle stuck in your sliding doors.”

“I’m on the tenth floor!”

“With other people’s balconies on each side of you.”

He picked up the deadly-looking dagger and pointed it in her general direction. “My building is secure. There’s a doorman, cameras, alarms, a concierge. You don’t have any of that.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Yes, you do.” He couldn’t avoid this any longer. He set the dagger next to an inkpot with a feathered plume and withdrew the folded, letter-sized envelope he’d already opened from his back pocket. She hesitated before she took it from him. She extracted what was inside as carefully as if she were handling a snake. Not far off.

It was the newspaper photo of the two of them kissing on Michigan Avenue. Except someone had ripped a hole in the paper where her head had been and written a note in red ink across the bottom.

You destroyed me and now I’m destroying you, my love. Think of me with every note you try to sing.

“This was delivered to your room at the hotel an hour ago,” he said gently.

She snatched the paper from his hand, ripped it, and shoved the pieces into the wastebasket by the couch. “I’m not letting this get to me. I’m absolutely not.”

“You already have, and ripping it up won’t make the threat go away.”

She sank into the couch, dropped her head, and rubbed her temples. “I hate this.”

He sat next to her and took one of her silver rings between his fingers. “The message says, ‘Think of me with every note you try to sing.’ What does that mean to you?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. It means—” Her head came up. “I don’t know.”

“Whoever is sending you these messages knows you’re having trouble with your voice and is capitalizing on it. Someone wants you to stop singing.”

“That’s impossible. No one knows about my voice except you.”

“And Rachel, right? The best friend you tell everything to.”

“I’d trust Rachel!” she exclaimed. “Besides, I haven’t told her all of it. She has no idea how bad it’s gotten.”

He knew she didn’t want to hear this, but he had to say it anyway. “The two of you are in competition for the same roles. You told me she also sings Amneris, right?”

“So do dozens of other performers!” she exclaimed. “Rachel and I are on different career paths.”

“But maybe Rachel wants to be on the same path.”

She jumped up. “I won’t hear another word. I mean it, Thad. I’d trust Rachel with my life.”

Which might be exactly what she was doing, but he knew better than to say that. “Regardless of who’s behind this, someone is threatening you, and you can’t stay here.” He rose and cupped her shoulders. “We’ve been traveling together for almost a month. We know how to share space. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You can go your way. I’ll g

o mine.”

She looked away. “You know it won’t be that easy.”

“It’ll be as easy as we make it.”

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