Scalding rage flooded Wes’s body. Coming to his feet he ripped the phone out of her hand and snarled into the phone. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Give me the phone, Wes,” Cara cried, her eyes bulging.
Wes heard the click as the caller ended the connection.
“They hung up.”
Cara wrung her hands as she shook her head, looking back at the photos. “Why did you do that?” she whispered.
“What’s going on, Cara?” His blood was pumping too hot through his veins for him to make his voice soothing.
Cara planted her hands on the ground one at a time and slowly came to her knees. Using the bed as leverage, as if she didn’t have the strength to get to her feet without help, she rose to her full height.
Her color was slightly better, but the weary lines by her eyes seemed deeper. “That’s it then.” Her gaze fell to the photos on the bed. Tears streaked down her face, but Wes didn’t think she was aware. “Okay, it’s fine. Everything will—” Her breathing quickened.
“Hey!” Wes stepped forward, pulling her into him. He rubbed her back in soothing circles as her sobs soaked through his shirt. “You’re going to hyperventilate.” He pulled his head back to look down at her, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Breathe with me. In, two-three-four. Out, two-three-four.” Cara struggled to match his breaths, and after a few minutes, she calmed enough that he stopped counting out loud.
Tucking her head against his chest, he rested his cheek on top of her head, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Cara. His hand stroked down her tangle of blonde hair. “Does the caller ever say anything?”
Wes felt her shake her head.
“Okay. How often are you getting them?” he asked.
Cara’s voice was low when she answered, and Wes bent his head closer. “I don’t know. The first night was a lot, so I turned my phone off. I didn’t get them for a couple of days. After he texted, asking if I liked the flowers, I told him I would call the police and blocked him.” Her voice quavered and a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He was going to find out whoever was doing this and tear them apart.
“The flowers that were left here at the house?”
That was bad. Very bad. This guy knew where she lived.
“I got a second delivery at work, and that’s when he texted me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fear made his tone sharp, and Cara immediately stiffened. Wes resumed his stroking, holding her snug when she moved in his arms.
“I thought I could handle it. It worked last time, but it wasn’t this bad.”
A chill blackness descended over him. “The last time?”
“I need to sit down, Wes.” Her voice was husky, and he eased her down until she was sitting next to him on the bed. Her hands were still cold, and he rubbed them between his own.
“Will you tell me what happened before?”
Cara let out a heavy breath and then met his eyes. Wes watched as she clearly struggled with a decision. “It’s all right. You can tell me anything.” He lifted their clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss to where they were joined.
“When I came to Atlanta, it wasn’t just because of school. I needed to start over. After the pictures in the tabloid came out, I started getting ugly messages and emails. I ignored most, but one account started talking about things that were happening in my everyday life–nothing to do with the pictures. His messages became scarier.”
“Can you give me an example?” he asked softly, trying not to spook her or let her know how his body pulsed with fury.
“It was usually along the lines of, ‘hope you liked your salad,’ or ‘your hair looked so pretty’ on days I’d been at the salon. The one that pushed me over the edge, and had me a virtual shut-in at Declan’s, was the evening he said, ‘I wanted to run with you today.’” Cara shuddered. “I had gone to a park to run the trails ten miles from Declan’s house. I thought I was careful, but when I opened the email, I realized how isolated the spot was and that he’d been watching. He used to sign all the emails, ‘See you soon.’ When that wasn’t on any of the messages here, I didn’t realize he had found me. I thought I could start over with a different name, and he would forget. Why is he doing this?”
Wes clenched his jaw so tightly he thought he might have cracked a molar. “Was there something more than the calls and flowers? Has he approached you?”
Cara’s shoulders slumped. “No. I’ve run out of people I think it could be. There was a gift card around Valentine’s Day. I thought it was from Anne. I thought about calling the police. Luke and James said I should file a report to get the paperwork started, but it’s doubtful the police will devote a lot of time to it. Particularly because I don’t know who it is.”
“Your brothers know you’re being stalked, and they aren’t doing anything?” Wes seethed as his anger grew.
Cara stared at her hands. “They don’t know it’s me. I told them it was a friend of mine.”
“Then your brothers are morons.”
