“Unbelievable,” I scoff.
“Is it? Put your emotions aside for one minute and tell me if it’s not possible.”
“How about you do the same and admit that Torrance is also a viable possibility?”
“I do, Tristan. I’m here, aren’t I? I let you drag me down to the middle of nowhere, and I’m staying without a single argument because it is possible that Jacob is Butterfly Man and so is any of your men.”
I force myself to consider her theory through the haze of anger and jealousy. Of Torrance. Which is exactly why she thinks I’m not being objective. “Fine. I’ll bite.” I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. “Who do you think it is? Marcus, who was out looking for your husband at the time of the breach? Or Dixon and Riley, who are both from Minnesota and have never set foot in Florida except when each of them got married, and I treated them and their wives to a weekend in Miami as their wedding gift?”
She blinks rapidly, pursing her lips. “What about the last member of the team? I can’t even remember his name, the one who is always in charge of guarding the back gate?”
“Morrison?” I chuckle.
“Yes, him. Come to think of it, I don’t believe he’s said two words to me since you put him on the job. I never see him around, like he’s always in stealth mode. It’s like he doesn’t exist. He certainly fits the character bible for a stalker.”
“You think Morrison is Butterfly Man?”
“The guy is a creep. He has access to the house and the system. He knows all your moves, when you’re out and when I’m alone and vulnerable. He’s always in the back, which means hecould have been listening to our sensitive conversations at the blind spot, and he keeps a low profile so that when he strikes, no one suspects him. Where is he from?”
“Arkansas…but he did serve at Homestead Air Reserve Base, near the southern end of the Florida peninsula, about twenty-five miles south of Miami.”
Her jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? And not once have you thought it was him? I can’t believe this shit. He’s been right under our noses all this time and—”
“Morrison can’t be your stalker, Birdie.”
“Because he, too, is married with four kids in Oklahoma? Give me a break.”
“For fuck’s sake, he’s gay, okay? Like that Spencer guy, Morrison is gay. He can’t be obsessed with someone likeyou.”
She blinks again. “Unless he pretends to be to keep suspicions away.”
“Puta madre, you’ll just say anything to protect your stupid boyfriend.”I’m gonna kill the tall fucker myself.
“I’m not trying to protect anyone but myself, Tristan. I’m tired of running in circles. You have your theory, and I have mine. Then let’s prove it. One way or another.”
I cross my arms. “How?”
“Butterfly Man will go crazy if he doesn’t have access to me or know where I am, which will lead him to do something gruesome enough to force me out. I won’t let him control the narrative anymore. The only way we take charge is by setting a trap.” Her eyes gleam with determination. “Two traps, actually.”
I push off the wall. “What kind of trap?”
“We leak two different pieces of information. Tell your team I’m being moved to another safe house of yours in a different city. Tell Torrance I’m renting a cabin on the other side of the island to take a break from all of this. See who shows up where.”
“That’s...” I pause, considering. It’s not a bad plan, except for one thing. “Too dangerous. We’d be splitting our resources, leaving you vulnerable.”
“Not if I’m somewhere else entirely.” She steps closer, her voice dropping. “Here. Where no one can find me.”
Fuck. This plan actually…can work. But no. “No. I don’t like this, Birdie.”
A ghost of a smile touches her lips. “You don’t have to like it. You just have to help me prove you wrong.”
The challenge in her voice stings my pride. I run a hand through my hair, already regretting what I’m about to say. “Fine. Three days. We’ll set up both scenarios, but you stay here with me and Brandon at all times. We do this my way, do you hear me?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
I ignore the sarcasm. “And if anything feels off, if I see anything—anything—that suggests this is going south...”
“You’ll protect me. That’s what you do, isn’t it?"
