Six Single Dads' Nanny (Love by Numbers 5)

I thought about how much the woman looked like me. Was I one of their type in a fatal attraction kind of way?

I shook my head. “No,” I said aloud. There was no way. My men weren’t murderers.

I shakily stood up off the ground and hobbled into the living room. I could feel my stomach start to churn again as I looked down at the pictures, but I quickly gathered them up along with the note and tossed them into my shredder. I allowed the buzzing to cut up the horrendous thoughts in my head. My guys didn’t murderer anyone. I knew that for a fact.

That didn’t stop my dreams that night from taking me to dark and scary places. I dreamt of myself on the bed, dead. I dreamt of one of my romantic nights with the guys going south suddenly, when they pulled out some sort of blunt object to whack me over the head with. I even dreamt of finding one of my poor babies in pain, bleeding and warning me to run. By the tenth time I’d woken up in a cold sweat, it was 3 o’clock in the morning, and I decided I best just throw in the towel for the night. I wouldn’t be getting a relaxing, dreamless sleep; that ship had sailed the moment I opened that package.

“Jordan? You okay? You seem a little out of it.” I shook my head and looked up to see Cade looking down at me.

How I got to his home was anyone’s guess. I must have fluttered through my day on auto-pilot, not realizing it until Cade’s hands were on my waist and his warm eyes were staring down at me in deep pools of concern.

“Um, oh, yeah, just worried,” I responded, being severely more honest than I intended to.

I really wanted to believe with my whole heart that none of my men were killers, but I couldn’t help but remain a little cautious. No other packages had come for me, and I was keeping a close eye on all of my surroundings to see if anyone was following me; the sender had to have gotten my address from somewhere.

“Worried?” Cade asked. “About what?”

“M-my friend Khloe,” I stuttered out.

“The wedding planner?” Cade asked.

Well, good news, the guys were actually listening to me when I spoke, that’s one relationship box ticked, now I just had to pray I could tick the ‘not a murderer’ one.

“Yeah,” I responded to Cade, hating the way I was glancing around the room for items I could use to protect myself if I needed to. I loved him and I honestly felt like he loved me too. He wasn’t going to hurt me. “She’s having a hell of a time out there with some groomsmen on her current job. I’m just afraid she’s getting in a little over her head.”

“Do you need Oliver or I to check anyone out?” Cade asked.

It was an incredibly sweet sentiment, but all I could think about was how easily those powers could be used to exploit me or someone else. “No,” I said. “She’s a tough cookie. I think I’m just being overprotective.”

“That’s in your nature,” Cade responded. He placed a finger under my chin and tipped my head up and gave me a kiss on the lips. “It’ll be okay, and remember, we’re here for you if you need anything. Any friend of yours is someone we’d do anything to look out for.”

I smiled. How could Cade or any of the other men be killers? They couldn’t be. “Thank you.”

Talking with Cade calmed me down. To even think that the men were the kind of man who could do what I saw in those pictures was outrageous. They didn’t have an evil bone among them. I went home that evening confident I’d get a much better night of sleep, at least that was the plan until I got home and saw there was another envelope on my door. It wasn’t certified mail the second time around, it was actually taped to my door. Someone had been in my apartment building and had even come up to my door.

Heart racing, I ripped the envelope down and rushed inside. I locked my door, shut and locked all of my windows, and even went the extra mile and hid anything I had that had a camera on it. Someone was watching me, and the violation and exposure of it was giving me a heart attack.

I didn’t take the care of using a knife, and ripped open the envelope with my hands shaking so wildly I could barely hold it. The top sheet was another blank page with only a single typed line, similar to the last one.

‘I hOpE yOu HaVe YoUr AfFaIrS iN oRdEr.’

Tears were already streaming down my face, but then I pulled the sheet away and started to sob in earnest. In the picture was the very same woman who’d been pictured in the photos I received the first time, except in the photo I had in my hand currently, there was a man standing over her. He was staring directly at the camera and had a splatter of dried blood on his hand.