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We spent the entire dinner talking about our newfound plans and what all we were going to get for the house. My array of succulent plants were definitely coming with us.
I couldn’t wait to see our house in person. I already knew I was going to love it. Ethan did mention that we could’ve always moved to his family’s cabin in Sierra Nevada, but it was too far away from everyone. We’d have privacy, but not our families. My mom would never forgive me if I moved her grandchildren six hours away from her.
The time was closing in on eleven, and Ethan was in the shower since he got sweaty after his nightly workout. After grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, I closed all the blinds in the living room and retreated to the bedroom. The smell of Ethan’s soap filled up the room and I breathed it in, loving the scent. So many smells made me sick, but I couldn’t get enough of his soap.
I set my phone and bottle of water on the nightstand and hopped into bed. A few minutes later, the shower water turned off and I rolled over onto my side, pretending to be asleep. Ethan came out, and I could feel his eyes on me. The bed dipped down and his fingers traced along the back of my neck, down my arm and to my thigh. I remained completely still, even though my skin broke out in shivers. His touch drove me crazy, and he knew it.
Ethan laid behind me, his naked body hot and hard against my back. He kissed my neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at my skin. Biting my lip, I had to hold back a moan; it all felt so good.
“Are you too tired?” he whispered, his voice low and gruff.
I shook my head. “Never when it comes to you.”
His hand slid down to my underwear and gently tugged at them, but he only got so far when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. He froze and so did I. It was Tuesday, an exact week since my last text.
Ethan growled and sat up. “So, help me God, Peyton. If this is another one of those texts, I’m gonna fucking blow.”
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s Tuesday, Ethan. If it is one, they’re right on schedule.”
I opened my eyes and sat up, afraid to check my phone. However, I wanted to be the one to do it instead of Ethan. So I grabbed it, and when the light on the screen came on, I could see part of the text. It was the wordThreefollowed by the three dots of doom.
“It’s them,” I said, unlocking my phone. I went straight to my messages and clicked on the text. My blood ran cold when I read the rest of the words.
Unavailable:Three . . . You need to be ready for me.
I didn’t want to imagine the meaning behind them. Be ready? The thought made me sick to the core.
“Peyton. What does it say?” Ethan demanded. With shaky hands, I passed him the phone. His face contorted and filled with rage. “Son of a fucking bitch! That’s it. I’m calling my aunt and uncle. It’s time we get the feds involved.”
I couldn’t argue with him. I’d already had a brush with death not long before when that psycho stalker, Peter Dellinger, broke into my apartment. I didn’t want or need anything like that to happen again. I wasn’t worried about myself, but I was for my babies.
“Call them,” I said. “We need to know who’s doing this.”
Ethan stormed to his feet and threw on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt before snatching his phone off the dresser. Luckily, it was only eight thirty in California. He paced back and forth while the line rang through the speaker, the tension growing in the room with each step he took.
“What are you going to tell them?” I wondered. “They don’t know about Nikolai. Only my dad does.”
Ethan nodded. “I know. I’m going to see if Brooklyn can get her people to trace the number.”
A few seconds later, Ethan’s uncle Camden answered the phone. “Hey. Long time no talk.”
Ethan sighed. “I know. How are you?”
Camden and Ethan’s father sounded so much alike on the phone. They were twins, so I could see how people would get them confused.
Camden chuckled. “Not bad. I heard you’ve been Peyton’s bodyguard. How’s that going?” He had a mischievous tone to his voice as if he already knew what was going on between us. Ethan picked up on it too.
“Who told you?” Ethan replied.
Camden laughed again. “Your mother. I overheard her talking to Brooklyn.”
Ethan stared over at me. “Speaking of Brooklyn. Peyton and I need to talk to her.”
Camden’s tone changed. “Is everything okay? You don’t sound like it.”
Ethan’s jaw tensed. “Not really, Cam. Peyton’s been getting some fucked up texts. I want to see if Brooklyn can get her people to trace the number.”
Camden huffed. “What the hell? That girl’s already been through so fucking much with that sick cunt who broke into her apartment.”
