“Oh, God,” I moaned, feeling queasy. I’d just had to find myself a rich, spoiled lawyer’s son to have as a psycho stalker ex-boyfriend, hadn’t I?
Super. I definitely knew how to pick ‘em.
“…was broken into this evening, but—”
“Wait, what? I’m sorry, Mom. I was spacing. What was broken into this evening?”
“Our house, but—”
I exploded to my feet. “WHAT!”
“Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean it was him.”
“Of course it was him. Mother!” Wake up, woman. “Who else would it be?”
“Okay, all right.” Mom’s voice was a little too calm and placating for my taste. “You’re right. It’s a good chance it was him. Nothing was taken, though. Just a couple of papers in the office were…rifled through.”
“He’s looking for me,” I whispered, glancing around the room as if I would spot him lurking in one of the corners. He was free and clear from all legal accusations, so now he was looking for me. For revenge.
“He’s not going to find you,” Mom assured me. “We have nothing in the house to connect Reese Randall to you. The only way he could possibly find you now is through your social security number, and I swear we have every document with that information on it locked away in a security deposit box in the bank. Just to be on the safe side, however, Dad’s going to go in and change your cell phone number tomorrow. We’ll call and let Shaw and Mads know what the new number is. All right?”
When I didn’t answer soon enough—my brain was too busy whirling with thoughts—Mom repeated my name. “Reese?”
“All right,” I said, shaking my head, not quite sure what I was agreeing t
o.
But it seemed to reassure her. “See.” There was a smile in her voice. “Everything’s fine. We’re not going to let him get anywhere near you. You’re safe.”
A long sigh eased from my lungs. I had left home to stay as safe as possible. But now that danger was breaking into houses to find me, it felt as if I’d left the only place that could truly keep me protected.
I was nine hundred miles from home. Alone.
“I love you, Teresa,” Mom murmured into my ear.
As I closed my eyes tight, a single tear slid down my cheek.
Everyone had always called me Reese, ever since I’d been a baby and my older sister had found it impossible to pronounce Teresa. But it felt nice to hear my birth name spoken aloud. It had been too long; I’d begun to forget who I really was.
“I love you too, Mom.”
After I hung up, I did a thorough walkthrough of the entire apartment, flipping on every light and checking every window and closet. Under the bed. Behind the shower curtain. Then I returned to the front room, no longer sleepy in the least.
Staring sightlessly at the television screen, I jumped at every creak and groan I heard echo through my tiny apartment. I was tempted to call Eva and demand she come home to be with me. But she was probably so drunk by now, she’d bring her partying gang along with her. I certainly didn’t want a horde of strangers prowling through my loft.
When someone knocked on my door, I screamed. The pillow I’d been clutching to my chest went flying.
I scrambled off the couch and ran away from the knock, instead of toward it. Grabbing my purse, I dumped the contents on the table and fumbled through my compact and wallet before I found my mace and Taser.
“Who is it?” I called as I crept toward the door, both my hands full of girl-power weapons.
“It’s Mason.”
What?
Not believing the muffled male voice in the least—because why in the world would Mason come see me at eleven on a Saturday night?—I peeked out the closed window blinds and gaped at Hotness standing outside my apartment door.
What in the world?