Chapter 18

eighteen

Nevaeh

I’m almost caught up on work. The number change had been a hassle I’d not been able to avoid, what with the amount of contact attempts I was getting every day from both Antonio and Kate, who clearly couldn’t take a hint. I hadn’t even been reading their messages. Simply deleting as soon as they came in.

I’d had to contact everyone via my website, deciding not to make my new number public because that would only encourage the current issue.

I’d been wearing Kane’s ring for two weeks now, living with him for just over a month. It’s fast, but it’s necessary. We’ve even gone out for dinner a few times, and I know that at least one of those times someone recognized Kane and took a photo. I’ve been scouring the Internet since, trying to find evidence of that photo but I’ve seen nothing yet. Maybe seeing Kane with a new woman means little to the public, considering how many other photos of him with women I’d stumbled on in my search for ours.

Either way, I’m done looking. Every time I see a photo of him with another woman, holding her close, smiling that heart slaying grin at her, I feel a little sick to my stomach.

Some things are simply not worth it. Besides, Kane has informed me there’s a press release scheduled regarding our engagement.

Tonight, we’re heading to my family home for a dinner I just know Mama has invited the whole family to attend. Just the thought makes me nervous. So nervous, I’ve been popping jellybeans for the last two hours. Kane doesn’t know it, but he’s in over his head.

I have a big family, and since I know Mama’s been telling everyone about my new man—whom I’ve recently admitted to accepting his proposal—I know Uncle Miguel will be there. Uncle Miguel will pass judgement on whether Kane is good enough for me or not, which, I’ll admit, is a hard pill to swallow when he’s decided he doesn’t like said man.

I know this, because Uncle Miguel hadn’t liked Antonio even a little, and he’d been vocal about it to both Antonio and me.

I’m dreading the dinner, but it must be done.

When I admitted to Kane that I was worried about certain members of my family not caring for me with him, or how fast our relationship was seemingly progressing, he shrugged it off with a confident, “I’ve got thick skin.”

I’m not sure anyone has skin thick enough to face my family’s disapproval and come out intact. Even Antonio had strived to impress them, succeeding in winning everyone but Uncle Miguel over.

It had bothered Antonio that Uncle Miguel hadn’t liked him, but he hadn’t cared enough to make an effort to turn that dislike into something else. Antonio had always thought less of my uncle because of his biker association.

How hadn’t I realized before I caught him with Kate how much of a tool he was?

How had I allowed myself to wander so aimlessly, so blindly into the trap of his ‘love’?

No, what Antonio felt for me was never love. Love doesn’t cheat. Love isn’t manipulative and destructive. Love isn’t supposed to hurt.

I send my last email of the day to a new indie author—a romantsy book cover I’m incredibly proud of. Not only is it exquisite, I mean, I did create it and I’m epic with photoshop. But it’s a perfect depiction of her book and how she wanted to express her book to the public through the cover. I love having a hand in making these dreams reality for people. I might not make a load of green stuff every month like some people—ahem, Kane—but I make enough to keep my head above water, mostly.

I’m about to close up shop when another email pops into my inbox. I still have a bit before Kane will be home from work, so I decide to open it now and at least add whatever request just came in, to my calendar.

But it’s not a request that loads when I open the email. It’s a video.

My blood chills and a scream rips into the silence, because I’m staring at the same masked man who attacked me. The same one who haunted my nightmares.

He begins to speak, his voice shockingly, terrifyingly loud in my laptop speakers. “You can run, but you can’t hide. I’m hunting for you, little slut. I’m hunting for you, and I’ll find you. When I do, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget, since my last lesson apparently didn’t stick.” He laughs that same dark laugh he’d laughed as I lay bleeding in my bed. My skin crawls with fear. “I’m hunting. Hunting, hunting.” He leans close to the camera and whispers, “Your disobedience has made this personal, so I’ll share something personal with you now, my little slut.” He sits back and laughs again as he says, “Hunting makes me hard.”

The video snaps to black before it—disintegrates—leaving a blank email in its place.

What the fuck?

What the actual fuck?

I slam my laptop shut without signing off, rattled.

My hands shake around my phone as I stand, moving away from the windows. Why are there so many windows in this house?

I don’t know how I do it through my fear scattered thoughts, but I call Kane.

“Sunshine.” His voice is warmth, but even that fails to penetrate the cold fear.

My sob sounds sharp as a blade over the line, but I can’t get any actual words past the fear.

“What’s going on?” His worry is crisp and clear. The background goes silent. Everyone is listening, on guard. I sob again and he demands, “Nevaeh, are you hurt?”

“He’s—hunting—me.”

“Who?” I can only cry as I sink down the wall, curling into a ball. It’s like my mind is breaking apart, dismantling. I can’t focus. I can’t breathe. “Fuck,” I hear him curse, but even that sounds distant. “I’m on my way, Sunshine. Stay on the line, I’m on my way.”

I do as I’m told, mainly, because I’m not in possession of the ability to disconnect. I’m frozen in the corner, my back to the wall, knees up against my chest. I don’t possess the power to stop the tears, to battle back the panic or to obliterate the dark that is slowly closing in on my vision.

Faintly, I can hear the echo of Kane’s voice in my mind, but I can’t process his words as the panic sinks its talons deep into my mind, and I’m back in my old room with that monster on top of me, crushing my airway, hurting my body. Images shift in my mind as though I’m watching the horrors on a screen. I can see myself on the floor as he presses his hand between my butt cheeks, violating me with his touch. But this time, the vision distorts from a memory to something that hasn’t yet happened—a painted threat of words spoken—because this time the monster is hard. He doesn’t touch me through my shorts, either. He tears them violently from my body.

I don’t realize I’m screaming, kicking and crying—using my nails and teeth and anything I can as big, hard hands hold me in place against a crushingly massive body.

“I’m here. It’s me, Nevaeh, I’m here.” My body stops thrashing as the voice settles and reality battles the waking nightmare until I’m a sobbing, broken mess in his arms.

“What the fuck happened?” A deep, dark male voice asks.

“Check the house,” Kane barks and heavy footsteps begin the task of doing just that.

Humiliated and beyond devastated, I push against Kane’s chest. “I’m s-sorry.” A sharp hiccup distorts the words. I sound like an over-imbibed cartoon character. Only, I’ve not drowned myself in liquor so much as tears. “There’s no one here.”

Kane’s eyes are blade sharp as he holds my face in his hands and asks coolly, calmly, “What happened, Nevaeh?”

“I was—” I swallow, my eyes shifting to the kitchen table where my laptop still sits. Kane’s eyes follow mine and his brows draw together. Such a smart man.

“Did he contact you? Antonio?”

I shake my head. “I was working. I got an email, and it was from a new contact.” I shudder. It’s violent. “There was a video and it started to play. It was the monst—man who attacked me. He said things—threats.” I shake my head because I can’t go on.

Kane stands. “Show me.”

“The video is gone. When it finished playing it just—” I lift my shoulders in a helpless gesture as Tav and Ian reappear from checking the house. “Poof. Gone.”

“What do you mean it was just gone?” Tav demands, having caught enough of the conversation to be able to jump in.

“I mean it was there and then it wasn’t. There was a video and then the email was empty.”

“Let me see the email,” Ian requests softly.

My knees feel as though they’re held together by Jell-O as I walk across the room toward my laptop. I lift the lid, tap my password into the keys, and swallow bile as my email appears, empty. Not only is there no video to show them, but there’s not even an email anymore.

“What?” I feel a new surge of panic, because I did not imagine that video. I didn’t. “It was here.” I shake my head, feeling a new swell of panic. “I swear, it was here.”

“Sunshine.” Kane winces as I step away from him.

“I didn’t imagine it.” I’m still shaking my head as Ian sits in front of my laptop, his hands flying over the keys.

“No one thinks you imagined anything, baby,” Kane coos. But he’s wrong. I think I imagined it.

I must have imagined it. If it had been real, it would still be in my inbox.

Oh, my God, I’m going crazy.

I need a psych evaluation. I need…

“Here.” Ian taps the screen. “Breech.” He twists to face me, eyes boring into mine. “You’re not crazy, Nevaeh, but whoever is fucking with you has rare intelligence. He’s a hacker. Good at it, too. I can’t see the email. That’s gone. But he left enough crumbs for me to know he was here.” His voice is a kind of calm that leaves me feeling shook to my core. “Don’t figure he thought he’d need to sweep his whole mess, but he doesn’t know you have access to me, or who I am. Who my parents were.”

A pounding begins in my head, and I press my fingertips to my temples. “Who are you?”

When Ian’s eyes move to Kane’s, Kane gives a subtle nod. “You can trust her.”

Ian takes him at his word, clearly not knowing that I’m only the fake fiancée. Regardless, I’d never betray them. Any of them. “Outside of Devils Heartbreak, I’m the head of Vein Security.”

My nose scrunches. “Like alarms?”

Ian smiles. It’s not cocky or smart. Just soft. “Among other things.”

I shake my head again, sensing I won’t understand even if he attempted to explain. “So, you can’t recover the email?”

“No.” Again, it’s matter of fact. “Whoever sent this is clearly experienced and your device has fuck all for protection.”

I close my eyes, but it’s Kane who says, “You’ll see to that, now.”

Ian nods, taking no offense to the bark in Kane’s tone. Clearly, like me, he’s stressed.

Ian adds, “You already have my system on your house, Kane, but after what happened with Wren, I think it’d be smart to get a dog. A big dog.” His eyes flick to me. “Do you like dogs?”

My voice is hardly audible. “Love them.”

“A dog is a good idea,” Tav agrees quietly. “A Cane Corso, specifically. I know a good breeder.”

I look to him with a frown. “What’s that?”

Tav offers me a small smirk. “It’s big. It can also be aggressive. Very aggressive.”

I jolt. “I don’t want an aggressive dog.”

Tav holds my gaze firmly. “You do.”

“No. I want—” The shrill sound of my phone has a yelp slipping from between my lips, but I answer when I see Mama’s name on my screen. “Mama, hi.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

I never could hide much from her. “I’m sick. Really sick, and my head is pounding. I’m sorry, Mama, we won’t make it tonight.”

“Oh, my girl, the flu?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I move to the couch and drop onto it. It feels as though every ounce of energy I had has been squeezed out of me.

“We will reschedule. Have a bath. Eat soup. Sleep.”

“Thanks, Mama. Tell Dad I love him.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

I disconnect and stand on shaking knees as I look at the men who watch me cautiously. My hands knot nervously in front of my belly, and I stammer, “I—I’m so cold, guys. I’m going to go take a bath. Again I’m—I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, I flee.