Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

L ock was hiding something.

Callie eyed the phone, tempted to call him back. Well, not him. Eastern. Or at least Eastern’s phone. Another question she had…why had he called from Eastern’s cell? She’d asked but he’d avoided the question.

Something had happened. What? And why hadn’t he told her? Did he think she couldn’t handle it?

She blew out a breath. He would have told her if it was really important, wouldn’t he?

She turned and glanced at her yoga mat. She should return to her session. But there was no way she could concentrate now.

Maybe, if there was something going on, he’d told Antwan. Was it underhanded of her to try to get information from him? Did she care?

No. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Deserting her yoga session, she left the bedroom and stepped through the living room and into the kitchen. Empty.

Strange. He’d been in here when she’d gone to the bedroom.

She headed down the hall, passing the first two bedrooms and stopping at the end one. She knocked.

Twenty seconds passed, and no answer. She knocked again, this time a bit harder, and the door creaked open.

Should she stick her head in? What if he was changing? But if he was changing, he would have heard her knock, right?

She stepped inside. “Antwan?”

Her gaze shifted to the closed bathroom door, the distant sound of the shower echoing throughout the room.

She checked her watch. Ten. It felt a bit late for a shower. But then, he and Jesse had been chopping wood before Jesse took Aspen home.

She was about to turn and leave when something poking out of his luggage caught her attention. Frowning, she moved toward it, her steps slow. She lifted the black shirt. It had been shoved under the other clothes, with just the edge sticking out. But it wasn’t the shirt itself she was focused on.

She ran her finger over the small tear in the shoulder.

Callie had heard the material of her attacker’s clothing tear at the shoulder last night.

She dropped it like it had burned her.

No. God, why did that thought even enter her head? This was Antwan, one of Lock’s best friends. And besides, he’d been at the bar last night.

But it was strange.

Nibbling her bottom lip, she spared a quick glance at the closed bathroom door before rummaging through the bag. She’d clearly lost her damn mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

She paused when she found the small compartment in the side of the suitcase. It was so small, she almost missed it.

She slipped her hand inside and pulled out a phone. Not Antwan’s phone. Or at least, not the one he usually used. That was a Samsung, and this one was an iPhone.

She glanced up at the closed bathroom door a second time. The shower was still running, but that didn’t stop the shaking in her fingers. Her heart started to beat faster as she opened the phone, surprised to find she didn’t need a code or password.

A voice in her head screamed to put it down and get out. Not just out of this room but out of the house.

But another part of her needed to know why Antwan had a different phone hidden in his bag.

She looked at the messages first. There were none. Next, she looked at the contacts. Again, they were empty. Who had a phone with an empty contact list and no text exchanges?

She clicked into the photos—and her heart stopped.

It was her.

All of the photos were of her. Some of her crossing the road. Some of her in her studio, taken through the window, both teaching and doing her own sessions.

Nausea swamped her belly, and she almost dropped the cell when she saw the one of her in bed, sleeping. But not in Lock’s house. In her house.

He’d watched her sleep. How?

Then she remembered…the broken back door.

Jesus.

Bile crawled up her throat, threatening to break free.

“Callie.”

She jumped, her gaze flying up to see Antwan standing in the bathroom doorway, shirtless, his jeans hanging low on his waist and a towel slung over his shoulder.

She’d been so focused on the photos that she hadn’t heard the shower turn off.

His gaze shifted from her face to the phone in her hand, then back to her. Nothing changed in his expression, but the energy in the room was thick and heavy and dangerous.

He stepped toward her. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Run. Get away. The words screamed in her head. But she’d never make it.

“It’s been you all this time,” she whispered, still not believing it.

“Yes.”

Yes? Really? That was all he had to say?

“You killed people.”

“For you. To protect you.”

He said it so calmly, like taking a life was the most normal thing in the world.

“I can’t…I have to go.” She stepped back.

“Don’t make me chase you, Callie. I don’t want to hurt you.”

What was the alternative? Let him do God knows what to her? He would never let her go now that she knew.

One heavy second of silence passed, and in that second, there was stillness. As if they were both waiting for the other to make a move.

Her blood pumped so fast it was all she could hear.

One more beat of silence—then she turned and sprinted down the hall.

She was a foot from the front door when Antwan’s arms wrapped around her waist and he shoved her against the wall. Then his body was against her back, his mouth beside her ear.

“I told you not to run.”

She tried to shove him back, but it felt like trying to shift a mountain…immoveable. “Get off me!”

“I can’t do that, Callie. I won’t hurt you, I promise, but I can’t let you go.” He wrapped an arm around her throat and pressed his other hand to the back of her neck. There was intense pressure, then the world around her hazed and she blacked out.

Aspen was nervous. One look and Lock could see that. Did she really know who was stalking Callie?

She paced Eastern’s office, but so far hadn’t said a word.

“Aspen,” Eastern pushed, gently but urgently. “What do you know?”

“So, this morning I was at your house, Lock.” She didn’t look up or stop pacing as she spoke. “And there was this moment where Jesse hugged Callie, and Antwan…”

Lock’s heart began to beat faster. “He what?”

“His eyes narrowed. It was only slight, but I don’t know, it was…strange. And his muscles tensed. He didn’t say it, but I could tell he didn’t like Jesse touching her.”

No. No fucking way. She was saying it was Antwan?

“What else, Aspen?” Eastern asked.

“Then Antwan hugged her, and he sniffed her hair. I swear, he closed his eyes and sniffed her hair. It was creepy.” She blew out her breath and kept pacing. “It was all so strange that I thought I must’ve actually imagined it. I’m an author, so I often create stories in my head that aren’t true. Hazard of the job. But then when I got home, I started thinking about last night.”

“What about last night?” Lock asked through gritted teeth.

Aspen stopped pacing and looked at him. “Jesse and I were playing pool while Antwan was talking to this girl. He went to a corner table with her and the bar got busy. We didn’t see him for, maybe an hour? When we did see him again, he was wearing a jacket. He didn’t have one before and he was acting… I don’t know. Different. Weird. I thought maybe things didn’t go well with the girl, but now…”

“Antwan wouldn’t do this,” Lock said, as if still trying to convince himself. “I know him, and there’s no actual proof.”

Eastern turned to him. “Hamish and Sadie both said Antwan and Jesse were in Sugar and Spice the day he was drugged. Antwan could have easily walked past Hamish and slipped it in. He was also present at both altercations with the Tate brothers. And the car last night was stolen from Thida Thai, which is only a street away from Meridian.”

“This person has been here, in Misty Peak, since before Antwan even got to town,” Lock pushed, desperate now. “There was a fucking note left at her house by hand.”

“Did you actually get confirmation of when Antwan’s flight got in?” Eastern asked.

“He got in the same day as Jesse.”

“Who got in first?” Eastern asked.

Lock’s jaw tensed. “Antwan. He waited for Jesse at the airport.”

“So he could have gotten in a while ago and not told anyone. Gotten to the airport just before Jesse’s flight to make it look like he’d just arrived.” Eastern lifted his desk phone and pressed a button. “Paxley, I need you to look into a flight for me from Georgia to Misty Peak.” Eastern glanced up at Lock. “When did they arrive?”

Lock closed his eyes, trying to recall. “July eighth.”

Eastern relayed the information to Paxley.

The air started to feel too thick, the band around his chest tightening, suffocating him.

He grabbed his brother’s cell from the desk and called Callie’s number.

Come on, honey. Answer the phone for me. Let me hear your voice.

The call rang, then it rang some more. On the fifth ring, he knew she wasn’t answering. He tried Antwan. The same damn thing.

Fear clawed at his insides. If what Aspen suspected was true, he’d just left Callie in a house with her goddamn stalker.

Fuck.

He quickly left his brother’s office, ignoring Eastern’s loud curse from behind.

Eastern caught up with him outside, just as Lock reached his brother’s car. Eastern slid behind the wheel while he jumped into the passenger seat. As his brother drove, Lock called Jesse, who answered on the first ring.

“Lock—”

“Are you home?”

“No. I’m picking up coffee. Why?”

Shit . “Did Antwan disappear for an hour at the bar last night?”

“Possibly. I was playing pool with Aspen, and he was talking to a woman. I didn’t have eyes on him the entire time, but I doubt he would have left.”

“But you don’t know for sure?”

“No, I don’t. What’s going on, Lock?”

Eastern took a hard right as Lock said the words he still couldn’t believe were coming out of his mouth. “It might be him.”

There was a small pause, and when Jesse spoke again, his words were slow and careful. “ What might be him?”

“The guy who’s fucking with us. The one stalking Callie and killing people. It might be Antwan.”

“No,” Jesse growled, just as harshly as Lock had. “We know Antwan. He’s family.”

Eastern’s car phone rang, and he answered. “Paxley. You find something?”

“There were no flights from anywhere in Georgia to Misty Peak on July eighth.”

Black specks began to haze Lock’s vision.

He’d lied…

Eastern drove faster.

“Jesse, I need you to meet us at the house now ,” Lock said.

“Already in my car.”

Lock hung up and the second they arrived at the house, he jumped out and sprinted toward the door.

“Callie?” he called once he was inside. The silence was so loud it was deafening. “Antwan?”

Nothing. Not even a whisper of movement.

Lock’s heart raced, panic building inside him. He ran into his bedroom. A yoga mat sat on the floor, a water bottle beside it, but no Callie. Not in the bedroom or the bathroom or the walk-in closet.

He exited the hall to see his brother checking the living room and kitchen. Lock ran down the opposite hall to Antwan’s bedroom. Jesse was already inside. All of Antwan’s shit was still there, but he wasn’t. Neither of them were.