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“Collins Auto Repair, this is Ina.”

Silence answered me for a moment until all I could hear was someone’s breathing. Instantly, I was annoyed. I had received five other calls just like this one in the past week, and it was really starting to grate on my nerves.

“Hello?” I pressed. “I know you’re there. I can hear ye breathin’.”

Nothing.

“Whoever this is, just stop callin’, or I’m goin’ to report this to the guards!”

The line went dead a second later. I put the phone down and turned back to my computer with a shake of my head. I added more notes of parts orders that I had to place, and when I was finished, I opened my work email to check my inbox. I went through the build-up one by one, but my heart stopped when I saw the message line for one particular email that had been sent within the past few minutes.

Miss Ina O’Reilly

I’ll bring you home soon, my flower.

I knew, without a doubt, that it was Finn. He had always called me his flower. He had once told me that I was his rose and that he was my water, and that without him, I would wilt away and die. For a long time, I had believed that, but the past five weeks of being independent and free of him and my father were the best of my life. I didn’t wilt away, I thrived.

My freedom from them both proved how much better off I was without them.

I read the words in the email over and over again and told myself that they were just that … harmless words. I wanted to believe they held no real meaning, but a part of me took them for what they obviously were, a blatant threat.

“Finn is nothin’,” I murmured to myself. “You’re free of him.”

My words of reassurance did little to calm my spiked nerves. The email was sent to my work email, which meant Finn knew where I worked. My name and picture were listed on the company’s website which meant he knew that I went by my mother’s surname now. I wondered if he knew my home address, too. I felt sick just thinking about it. The day passed by in a flurry of customers, bookings, phone calls, emails, and chats with the lads, but mentally, I had checked out.

I hated the feeling of dread that swirled around in the pit of my stomach. It was a constant reminder that just because I had left Finn in my past did not mean he would stay there. I was in the staff room making myself a cup of tea when a sudden shadow to my right made me yelp.

“Whoa! It’s me. Harley.”

I nearly collapsed with fear, and Harley found my reaction funny until he saw it in my eyes that I was truly scared.

“Are ye jumpy by nature, or is somethin’ botherin’ ye?”

The question surprised me so much so that I hesitated to answer.

He frowned. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

When I bobbed my head, Harley tensed.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll get Date.”

Barely a minute went by until Dante Collins was standing in front of me with his hands on my face. I stepped forward and hugged him tightly without a word. He was my safe place, and I needed to feel safe right now. Finn was a poison to me, and Dante was my antidote.

“Specs,” he murmured. “Are ye still upset over that bloke givin’ out to ye earlier? I told ye not to worry about him, kid.”

I squeezed him. “It’s not that.”

Dante stepped back but kept his hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong, Ina?”

“It’s probably nothin’.” I wrung my hands together. “But I’m scared, really scared.”

“Tell me.” Dante’s eyes peered into mine. “Ye can trust me.”

It dawned on me then that I already trusted Dante. I trusted him with my life, and I had no idea how or when it happened.

“Well”—I swallowed, shifting my stance—“it’s really not a big deal, so I don’t want to burden—”

“Nothin’ about ye will ever be a burden to me. I want to make that very clear.”

Either my heart skipped a beat with his words, or I was having a heart attack.

I relaxed. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated. “Tell me what’s up.”

“It’s me ex-boyfriend.”

Dante’s usually smiling face was passive. “What about him?”

I filled Dante in on the email I had received, as well as the weird silent phone calls that I boiled down to being Finn. It made sense that he would be the silent caller. He was taunting me.

“He threatened you?” Dante asked through clenched teeth. “Did he not accept your breakup?”

I gestured at the table. “We’ll need a cuppa for this talk.”

I made us tea and sat down.

“Ye don’t think I’m a liar for not tellin’ ye about usin’ me mammy’s surname, d’ye?”

I was nervous in case he answered yes.

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