* * *
It was almostmidnight when Cara finally made it home. As she turned into the driveway, her headlights hit a large envelope propped against the front door.
Her heart jumped into her throat, choking her. Looking over her shoulder, she grabbed the envelope, tucking it under her arm. It was heavier than she expected, and she could feel the outline of something stuffed inside.
The house was quiet, as Cara tiptoed into her room. She put the envelope on the bed and stared at it. It was a standard cardboard mailing envelope but what had her shaking, along with her real name in bold, red block letters, were the words—‘Do Not Bend: Photos.’
She thought of waking up Wes in the other room, but the tendrils of shame were back, crawling along her nerve endings.
This is ridiculous. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before, she told herself. She picked up the envelope, ripped the top off, and dumped the contents on her bed. Her brow furrowed, and she blinked, trying to process what she was seeing. Photos and a small disposable phone.
They weren’t the pictures of her with pink hair. She picked one up for a better look and immediately hurled it down, her hand covering her mouth. Panic sliced through Cara as she flipped through them, each showing her in various stages of undress… inside this very bedroom.
Cara heard a loud buzzing as she watched her hand reach out and unfold the paper lying on her bedspread. The message, printed in bold red ink, blurred in front of her and vomit rose in Cara’s throat.
I forgive you for being rude. You should have thanked me for the beautiful flowers. You blocked me and that is unacceptable. I have chosen not to punish you yet. You Are Mine. I don’t want to share these precious images of you, like I was forced to do before—but if you don’t answer the phone I have left for you, I will.I love you and cannot wait for us to be together.
See you soon.
No! No! No! I can’t go through this again!
Her knees turned to jelly, and she sank boneless to the floor until her forehead rested against the mattress. The burner phone rang, but Cara couldn’t force her body to respond.
She needed to answer it.
The phone went silent.
Maybe he didn’t know she was home yet. Or was he watching? Through the heartbeats in her ears, she heard it ring again. Slick fingers fumbled over it before she threw it against the wall.
What had she done?
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Wes heardCara come in and pushed his pillow more comfortably under his head. He was always restless until he knew she was home. Fuck, he’d been restless since she offered to take him to her mother’s wedding.
He should be grateful. Happy that she wanted to help him with Melody. So why did it make him so angry?
The afternoon of the thunderstorm, Wes had been so close to throwing his dream out the window. He’d handled it badly when the police interrupted them. His heart shriveled as he remembered the hurt in her eyes. It wasn’t that he regretted kissing her, touching her….
Wes rolled over and clutched his pillow to his chest. What had alarmed him was the realization that he was ready to throw away his life plan to be with her.
Cara was clear about the fact she didn’t believe in marriage. Then the other night, she made the off-hand comment about her beliefs having changed... followed by an offer to help him.
Wes groaned. He shoved the sheet back and opened his bedroom door. If he wasn’t going to sleep for a while, he might as well get some work done.
The sound of a telephone ringing caught his attention, and he frowned. Was someone harassing Cara again? What was that noise? He crept closer to her door, his ears straining to hear the strange mewling sound. Wes reached for the doorknob just as the phone rang again, followed by a crash against the wall.
“Cara!” The sight that greeted him broke his heart. Cara was crumpled on the ground next to her bed with her arms wrapped around her legs. Her face was pasty white, the pupils in her eyes dilated wide. She whimpered again.
Wes fell to his knees next to her. “Cara?” he whispered, placing his hand over where hers were rigidly clasped together. Her skin was damp. Was she sick? He touched her forehead. She was icy cold.
“Wes.”
“I’m here, baby. What happened?” His stomach churned, trying to imagine what could have caused such an extreme reaction. She was still in her work clothes, and he saw photos and a torn envelope scattered on the bed, but before he could examine them, the phone on the floor rang again.
Cara lunged forward, scrabbling for it. Wes watched, his heart twisting in anguish in the face of her panic.
“Hello? Hello?” Her breathing was coming in quick little pants. “Who is this? Why are you doing this?” Her voice shook, and tears spilled from the corners of her eyes.
