I try not to peek at my phone as I grab her hand and give it a squeeze. “I think I understand what you’re saying, and I love you for caring. But it’s not like that.” I get up and pace toward the window, hoping to draw her attention toward me and away from the phone. “Josh had absolutely nothing to do with this. I’ve started bringing Josh around campus because of a problem I’ve been having.”

  She grows immediately serious. She stands, a scowl on her face. “What problem, Annie? What’s going on?”

  I shrug and explain that I’ve received some notes that started out weird but ended up threatening. I tell her that Josh is the one who insisted I go to the police. That he’s been nothing but the shoulder I can cry on through all this. “And worse,” I say, shaking my head, “whoever is doing this seems to know how to get to Josh too. That’s why I’ve been off campus. He and I have been staying together someplace where we’ll be safe.”

  Neveah pinches her eyebrows between two fingers and curses under her breath. She presses me for details about the notes. When did they start? What did they say? Do I still have them? She looks so sincerely distraught, I immediately start to feel relief. She can’t have anything to do with the notes. She looks like she’s about ready to punch somebody for me, if the speed of her pacing and the rapid-fire questions mean anything. I don’t think she’s an actor, and I want to trust that her reaction is sincere.

  “Babe,” she says, dropping back down onto the floor. She sits cross-legged and sighs. “We need to involve the campus police. You’re right that you shouldn’t be here if you’re in any kind of danger. But I have to report this. No matter who’s doing this shit to you, whether it’s someone you know or not, we need to make sure security is involved. There are protocols for this.”

  I sniff hard and lift a brow at her, not even bothering to hold back my sarcasm. “Like the protocols they followed when they made the report about my room?”

  She nods. “I know. They don’t exactly inspire confidence.” She gives me a sad half smile, her pretty lips pressing together. “But Annie, if they know what’s going on, they can request support from local law enforcement. There are some good officers on the team. I can put in a request to the Department of Residence Life for more security patrols, anything. Until you know who’s doing this and why, anyone could be at risk.”

  I nod. I know she’s right. “Okay,” I agree. “So, what do I have to do?”

  Neveah stands and points a hand at the mess in the room. “Let me help you. Let me in. I can be a friend to you here, Annie. Not just an RA.”

  I instinctively grab her in a hug, pushing away the smallest part of me that still wonders if maybe, just maybe, she’s somehow in on this. Maybe I’m not seeing everything there is to see. Maybe she’s not someone I can trust completely. But Josh will be back soon. And no matter what she says, does, or thinks, I trust him.

  God, how I trust him. And I’m more grateful than ever to have him in my corner for as long as he plans to be there.

  I release Neveah from the hug just as Josh returns with a cardboard to-go caddy filled with drinks.

  “Ohh, sweet salvation.” Neveah leaps toward him and picks up her drink from the container. “You’re a freaking angel.” She takes a long, deep sip and closes her eyes. “Hmm-hmm that hits the freaking spot.” She turns to me and points. “You. Talk to your man,” she says. “I promised I’d treat. I’m going to grab cash from my room.”

  I don’t really care about Neveah’s money, but I’m glad she’s giving me a minute alone with Josh. I grab my phone off the floor where I had it facedown so the lock screen wouldn’t reveal there was a connected call. I quickly swipe, end the call, and jam the phone into my pocket.

  “Hey.” I lower my voice and take the drink caddy from him. “You heard all that?”

  He nods and pulls me close to him. His arms are hot from the Florida sun, and he holds me tight against his chest. I smell the warm heat of his body, the enticing hint of his cologne.

  “You smell good,” I mutter, lifting my face to his. “You’re seriously distracting, you know that?”

  He laughs and plants a light kiss against my lips. “You did good, babe. Really good.”

  Shivers travel up my arms and legs at his voice, his praise. I close my eyes and rest my head against him. We don’t say anything until Neveah comes back and breaks up our cuddle by waving three five-dollar bills in her hand.

  “This should cover it, I hope?” She looks at us and snorts. “You two keep doing you.” She walks over to my purse and jams the cash inside, then puts her hands on her hips. “So, are we calling the campus police, or what?”

  The process of working with the campus police is nothing like it was down at the local police department. I fill out forms and give a statement.

  There are several very nice officers and an admin to whom I email the photos of the notes I’ve received since I left the originals back at the compound. They ask me about everything you could imagine—my routine, my schedule, my dating life. Any enemies I might have. They have me mark on a campus map which studio is mine, even though the studio was assigned by the college and they already have that information.

  I try to be patient with every repeated question, every moment that I feel like I have to rehash the smallest of details again and again. I create a timeline of the last few weeks so many times, it all starts to blur.

  They agree to communicate a confidential message to the Department of Residence Life indicating that they are aware that I may stay off campus while the matter is being investigated. When they ask where I intend to stay if I’m not in the dorms, I look to Josh.

  I don’t know what the right thing to say is. If I say my father’s house, that puts him right in the middle of whatever is going on. I would rather face my stalker alone than put my father in harm’s way. So, I sigh and give them the address of Josh’s office. While it’s not a residence, the campus police just need an address. The building has security cameras, and I notice Josh pull out his phone and send a few texts after I give that address.

  I hope he’s telling Alice to be watchful. I hate, literally hate, not knowing who I can trust. Worry that other people might be in danger because of me settles heavy in my chest.

  By the time we finish with the campus police, I am exhausted. We never did eat lunch after those coffees, and now the sun is going down. We walk back to Josh’s truck, his fingers lightly laced through mine. It’s wild how right this feels. How normal.

  But the sweet familiarity that we’re building disappears the second we enter the parking structure. I tighten my hand around his as we approach the truck. I’m half worried his tires will be slashed or there will be some kind of letter tucked under the wipers. My heart rate picks up, and I look around worriedly. Josh has the same intense look on his face.

  As I watch Josh scan the parking structure and then his truck, I realize we are in this together. And it feels more right than it should. It feels like something I want even when I’m not in danger. Although, who knows when I’ll ever feel that way again. When it looks like things are clear and there are no obvious signs of trouble, he releases my hand.

  “Hey.” He unlocks the truck and holds open the passenger door for me. I stop between the warm wall of his body and the running board. “Annie?”

  I look up at him, and my heart does a little flip in my chest. His eyes are so warm, so honest as he looks at me. It’s as if I can see past the muscles and tattoos right into what’s happening in his soul. He looks the same way I feel.

  “Yeah?” I ask. I lift a hand to trace the bristles on his chin. I graze his thick lower lip with the tip of my thumb. “You’re so hot,” I whisper, a grin lifting half of my face. “I’m not trying to objectify you. I mean, I am. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to. I’m also just really, really grateful that you were the only PI to take me seriously.”

  He closes his eyes for a second and parts his lips. “I do care,” he says.

  For a moment, we’re just quiet.

  I stroke his lip and then drop my hand. With a tired smile, I climb into the truck and fasten my seat belt. Josh closes the truck door and comes around to his side. He starts up the truck and rolls down the windows. I rest my elbow on the door, enjoying the air on my skin as the truck picks up speed.

  The sun is setting, and the intense heat is softening, loosening its grip on the day. I tip my head toward my shoulder and close my eyes, letting the fresh air tease my hair. If we were really dating, what would we be doing tonight? Somehow, we feel so close despite the short time we’ve known each other. We skipped all the fuss of first dates, and we’re already in the relationship zone.

  I don’t know where we’re driving, and I don’t ask. I trust Josh. I trust this feeling. I can be completely myself right now. Tired, confused, angry, scared. And hungry. A few minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of a mom-and-pop diner.

  “You know me so well,” I mumble, grinning. “Have you been here before? Or do you think the only places I eat are holes-in-the-wall?”

  Ahead of us is a small strip mall. The lot looks pretty full, and there are loads of motorcycles parked right out front. Josh nods and points.

  “Don’t tell anybody, but this is Tiny’s favorite place. Leo and his brother Tim brought me here a couple months ago, and we spotted Tiny eating alone. Good food.” He comes around and opens the door for me. Totally not necessary, but I’m not going to complain or argue. I like that he’s making an effort when it’s obvious by the shadows under his eyes that he’s tired too.

  He didn’t sign up for a round-the-clock job.

  “I’ll bet you miss your other clients right about now,” I say softly, sliding past the running board.

  Josh shuts the door and gives me a look. “Tailing cheating spouses and proving insurance fraud is nobody’s idea of a good time.” He curls a hand around my waist. “You are exactly my idea of a good time.”

  I give him a look and tuck my head against his shoulder. We head inside the diner, where there is a long line of people waiting for a table. Josh puts in our name, and then we head out to the parking lot to grab a bench and wait.

  Before I can say anything, I notice Josh squinting, looking out over the parked cars.

  “You okay?” I ask. “Anything wrong?”

  He shakes his head then turns to me. “Tomorrow, we need to pay a visit to your dad.”

  I look down at my lap and clasp my hands together. “You think we need to? At this point, the police and the campus security office are involved. I mean…”

  “Annie.” Josh reaches into my lap and grabs my hands. “Whatever is going on is serious enough that he deserves to know. I’m going to keep you safe, but he should be aware. He could be…” Josh trails off, and the worry is back.

  I groan. “We have to figure out why this is happening. Who’s behind all this. There’s no way I want to involve my father if there is a chance he could get hurt.”

  “Let’s not take any risks.” He nods, and then a text buzzes his phone, alerting us that our table is ready.

  Inside the restaurant, I immediately see the enormous back of Tiny perched on a full-sized chair, sitting at a counter. I poke Josh and nod.

  We head over to him, and Josh claps the big man on the back. “Good to see you,” Josh says, then points to me. “We’re grabbing a little dinner. See you later?”

  Tiny lifts a chicken drumstick loaded with ranch dressing at us. “You breathe a word about this to Leo…” He sets the chicken down on his plate. “I’ll work out some, but I’m not fucking giving up fried chicken for nobody.”

  Josh chuckles, then calls over a waitress who’s standing behind the counter. He slips her a couple of twenty-dollar bills and points to Tiny. “His dinner’s on us.” Then he nods at Tiny before we follow the waiting hostess to our table.

  The meal is great. It’s no Pancake Circus, but I go for something a little lighter. Once I’m full, the fatigue hits, and I feel so tired, I could fall asleep. We’re waiting for our check when Tiny heads out, signaling his goodbye with a single wave in our direction.

  When the check comes, I move to grab my purse, but Josh stops me. “Let me get this, all right?” he says.

  I nod, too tired to argue. I’ll owe him so much when this is over. I may actually have to withdraw from school, not that I’ll be able to get any of my tuition back.

  Maybe Dad can spot me a small loan or give me my old job back. The thought of going back to work at the law office makes me sad. I thought I had one last chance to pursue my dream, but if I have to pay Josh back for all the time and expense… I could think of worse ways to have to do that.

  Maybe I’m not ready for art school anyway. Maybe it’s too late for someone like me to find her vision.

  If all I ever am is a hobbyist, would that really be so bad? The purpose of art is to make people happy. And as much as I love my art, I just don’t know if I want a life of galleries and hobnobbing. Of fancy parties and the pressure to produce work with a vision. Sometimes, yeah. The idea sounds like a dream. I would love to travel and have my work displayed all over the world. But the reality is that so few artists make even a modest living, let alone reach international success. And my very empty wallet reminds me that life doesn’t accept payment in the form of dreams.

  I watch Josh as he pays the bill. The waitress smiles at him and isn’t exactly flirty, but she’s definitely looking him over. She looks at me too, a friendly smile and an expression that makes me feel proud to be with him.

  We head back to the truck, and I rest my head against the seat. I close my eyes and let all thoughts just drift away. I’m done thinking. All I want is to get home, take a hot shower, and climb into bed. Beside Josh. Who am I kidding… Just the idea that I’ll be beside Josh again has me opening my eyes and sitting up straighter.

  When I look his way, I see him narrowing his eyes and peering into the rearview. His arm muscles are tense, and his lips are thin.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Anything wrong?”

  I start to turn to look behind us, but his low voice stops me. “Look forward,” he urges. “Don’t look back. We’re being followed.”

  The breath catches in my chest, and I grip the armrest between us. “Oh my God. Are you sure?”

  He nods once. “A car followed us out of the lot at the diner. They’re a couple car lengths back. I didn’t get a good look at the driver.”

  “What should I do?” I ask. “Take a picture? Try to get the plate number?”

  He nods. “Yeah. I’m going to find a place to pull over where they’ll have to pass us. You be ready. Got your phone?”

  I grab it and unlock it, my hands starting to shake. I swipe to ready the camera and then try not to peek in the side mirrors.

  “What kind of car?” I ask.

  “White sedan,” he says stiffly. “Two-door.”

  My hands start to sweat as Josh turns on his signal and eases over to the curb. He parallel parks quickly, then, with the truck still running, turns to face the street.

  “I’m going to try too. On my word, hold up your camera.” He grabs his phone and unlocks it. “Now.”

  I do as he says, peeking past him at the street. When a white car does go by, I try to snap a picture, but I just miss it. My heart’s pounding in my chest.

  “They sped up,” I say. “I didn’t get it. Are you sure, Josh? They were following us?” I look down at the picture I took, but it’s just a blur. I ended up getting more of Josh’s hand and his phone than the vehicle I was aiming at.

  “It’s all right.” He nods. “I think I got it.” He glares as he looks at the picture and zooms in on the image. The car has a small dent on the rear passenger panel. The driver looks like they are wearing a hoodie. “You recognize this?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I can’t see anything. I can’t make out the face or anything.”

  He sighs and leans back in his seat. He’s staring down the street, the truck still idling, but the white sedan doesn’t come back around.

  “Annie,” he says, turning to me. He looks more closely at the vehicle. “You may not recognize the driver, but do you recognize the vehicle? Is there any way this could be—”

  “Who?” I blurt out, wiping my clammy hands on my legs. “Josh, who do you think this is?”

  He firms his lips and looks down. “I’m pretty sure the driver was Neveah.”

  14

  ARROW

  By the time we get back to the compound, Annie is a lot calmer. I haven’t told her what I suspect yet. I can’t bring this to her without more evidence. All I have right now is a hunch. I’m pretty damned sure that Neveah is not who she says she is. I’ve run into a few competitors in my line of work. People who go after bounties or work security. I have a nagging suspicion that Neveah is a PI and that she was the one following us.

  But I’m not sure. The woman I vaguely remember is somebody I met years ago. She sure as shit didn’t have pink buns in her hair back then either. But there is something about her face that’s familiar. The way she seems sincerely protective of Annie and yet anxious to keep tabs on her at the same time. There’s just no other way. Neveah has to be involved somehow. If not with the notes themselves, at least with whoever it is who has eyes on Annie.

  I scan the dark yard around the compound, certain that no one has followed us here. Everything looks as I’d expect, so we let ourselves in. We greet Midge, who’s bustling around in the kitchen, cigarette pinched between her lips and cleaning gloves on her hands. Then we head into our room.

  We sit on the end of the bed side by side, Annie’s hands fisted in her lap.

  “Hey,” I tell her. “I’d like to ask you something, but it may make you a little uncomfortable.”

  Annie shifts on the bed and looks at me. “I don’t think I could feel worse right now,” she says, her voice shaky. “Someone was following us. What if they find us here? What then? What the fuck is happening?”