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“Chloe!” I snap. “Tell me.”
She takes slow, calm steps over to me and slams her eyes shut as she hands me her phone and whispers, “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for wha—” My heart plummets to the ground, shattering into a million horrified pieces.
On the screen is the headline “Has This Nighthawks Bachelor Settled Down?”
And beneath the headline is a photo—a photo of Cam and me at the bar at End Zone with his arms around my shoulders, my face clear as day.
Cold chills settle over my skin as a feeling of the inevitable doom smacks me across the face. I scroll down the article and am slapped with another photo—one of Chloe and me in our seats at the second game with the caption, Mystery girl spotted with friend, Zonama heiress Chloe Dupont.
Clenching my jaw, I fight the lump in my throat trying to burst free. I’m an idiot—the biggest, stupidest fucking idiot. Trey’s going to see this. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, as tabloids aren’t his thing. But someone is bound to see it and show him how similar this woman looks to his wife. But he’ll know. He’ll know it’s me and not a doppelgänger.
“Breathe,” Chloe whispers and takes the phone from my hand.
Laughter rumbles deep from my chest, taking over until I can’t control it. “It’s funny really. I did it to myself.” Tears stream down my cheeks as I continue to laugh hysterically.
“Stop. It is not your fault. It’s his fault for putting you in this position.” Chloe grabs my shoulders, trying to calm me.
“I knew I shouldn’t have gone down to those seats or out to that bar. I knew it, Chloe. But I refused to really think it or believe it because I wanted—”
“To be happy! And to be loved!” she cuts me off. “We will figure this out. We won’t let him hurt you.”
Meeting her worried gaze, I say as calmly as ever, “You won’t have a choice. He will find out where I am, and he will come here. And I don’t want you to be around when he does.”
She scoffs, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Storming off of the couch, I grab my keys from the front and rush to my loft, flying up the stairs with Chloe hot on my heels.
“What are you doing? Talk to me. Please,” she begs as I open my door.
“You have your security, right?” I ask her as I lock the door behind us.
She nods.
“Good. Call them and keep them with you twenty-four/seven. Don’t think this is just about me. That picture of us might as well have had targets on it. You were an accomplice in keeping me from him. Call them and tell them not to let you out of their sight,” I tell her.
“He can’t just kill all of us and get away with it,” she mocks.
I turn around and face her, holding her stare with intensity. “Do you think he doesn’t have the resources or reputation to back himself up? He can make your death look like a freak accident and be the one to arrest your so-called killer. Don’t you understand? I’m already dead. He can kill me, and nothing will change. I already don’t exist.”
I walk over to my nightstand, and she remains quiet. I open the drawer, grabbing my pistol. I pop the clip out and make sure it’s fully loaded, aside from the chamber.
“There’s no way he knows where we’re at right now, so just take a breath. We have some time to get a plan together.”
“I already made your plan for you. Call your security and go home. I’m closing the shop, and I’m going to wait. He will come for me. And when he does, we’re finishing it once and for all. I’m done living in fear of Trey. I’m done hiding. I’m taking back my fucking name and my fucking life. This is between him and me. When he comes, I’ll be ready.”
21
Cam
“Cam, wait up!” Laura calls me right before I’m about to step onto the ice for practice.
“What’s up?” I ask her.
She cringes. “I have a favor to ask you, and I know you’re not going to love it.”
Dammit. “What do you need?”
