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Odessa’s eyes narrow, and she pulls me close to whisper in my ear.
“It’s that man, isn’t it?” She asks, and I nod. I got really drunk one night and spilled my guts to Odessa. I told her much more than I should have about Tad, about our relationship, about his prison sentence.
I told her the real reason I changed my name.
I told her the real reason I keep to myself.
I nod, silently, relieved that she knows, at least a little bit. It’s a relief to know that someone understands what I’m going through and that they like me anyway. Odessa will always take my side. I know that. June will, too. They’re both always there for me.
They’re both right here with me, rooting for me, believing in me.
“He found you,” she whispers, but it’s not a question.
“He hasn’t found me.”
Not my house, anyway.
Not yet.
“Then what is it? Is this something you can bring to the police? Has he been threatening you?”
I shake my head.
I’ve been down that road before.
The reality is that the police are swamped. They’d love to help, and there are some incredible detectives, but they all have their own lives, their own jobs, their own responsibilities. They have their own pressure. Their bosses are ragging on them to close cases and taking on a domestic dispute? That’s not something most people really want to deal with.
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I guess he’s out of jail.”
“You knew that,” Odessa’s brown eyes narrow. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, Piper. I know you’ve been tracking his every move. It’s what I would do if I had your skills. A girl’s gotta look out for herself and you’ve been watching your back for a long time.”
I’m good at tech, what can I say?
She’s right. I have been tracking, watching, and waiting. When a contact notified me that Tad was up for parole, I immediately started watching my back again, even more than I did before. Living carefully means I don’t bring people to my house. I don’t talk about where I live. All of my mail goes to a post office box.
I can never relax, and I can never unwind, and I can never, ever let my guard down.
I’m careful, and I’ve covered my tracks as much as possible, but he’s clever.
He’s not likely to get caught again.
But going after the woman who put him in prison?
That’s definitely the type of thing Tad would do.
I reach for my glass and I take another sip of my smooth criminal.
“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” I lie to Odessa. “I’m just stressing out over nothing.”
I don’t tell her about the letters.
I don’t tell her he found a way to contact me.
I swallow the whiskey, and it burns all the way down.
Chapter 2
Maddox
