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There’s a piece of paper tucked under her windshield wiper and my immediate thought is it’s some sort of advertisement, but then I notice the handwriting and the way the paper is crinkled. It’s like someone found a scrap piece of paper and scrawled out a note.
Reaching around Greer, I pull the piece of paper away from the windshield. After I’m holding it, I briefly think about fingerprints and ruining evidence, but it’s already been established that this guy doesn’t leave anything behind.
Checking our surroundings, I look at every shadowed area, like I expect this fucker to be lurking, but of course, he’s not.
The lot only has a few cars left and there isn’t anyone else in sight.
Holding the paper up, my voice is gritty with anger as I read it to her.
“I’m glad you got my gift. I know those are your favorite earrings and I wanted you to have the complete set. Maybe next time, I’ll deliver the gift in person.”
This fucker is crossing every line.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” I mutter, dumbfounded by this whole situation and wishing I could find him and rip his fucking balls off.
Greer turns to me, her eyes searching. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispers. “Most of the time, I know exactly what to do. I’m capable of taking care of myself and every situation I face, but this feels…”
“Out of your control?” I offer, trying to put myself in her position. She’s a single woman who lives alone and leads a pretty public existence. Her livelihood is in front of the camera and her face is in front of thousands of people a day. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling, but I know it has to be scary and infuriating.
“Totally out of control and that’s messing with my head,” she admits. “I want to tell this guy to fuck off and give him the double birds while I walk off and dare him to come at me. But logically, I know that’s a stupid thing to do. There are no leads and no one seems to know what he’ll do next. When the detective said they’re basically waiting for him to do something stupid, I swear I felt the life leave my body. To me, something stupid means he’ll do more than he already has… something public or that can be traced back to him. And if I’m being honest, it scares the shit out of me.”
She braces her hands on the hood of her car and dips her head.
“I hate being weak,” she grits out, lifting her head to stare out across the parking lot. “I want to pretend like this is all a big joke and go about my life, but I also don’t want to play into this guy’s hands. I’ve seen what happens to people who don’t take things like this seriously. A month ago, I would’ve been frothing at the bit for a chance to cover a story like this, but being in the middle of it, I just want it to go away.”
When her words break at the end, I close the distance between us and wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Greer’s head drops in defeat, and I move on instinct, pressing her into my chest, surrounding her with my body in an effort to keep her safe.
“You’re not alone in this,” I whisper into her hair, pressing my lips there to seal the promise. “I can tell you feel that way, but you’re not. You’ve got your friends. And you’ve got me. There are so many people around you who care about you and are willing to do whatever they can to help you, but you’ve gotta let us, Greer. Don’t try to do it on your own.”
She nods against my chest, her arms wrapping around my waist, as she reluctantly returns my hug, and shit, it feels good. Having her in my arms feels… right.
Even though this situation feels so fucked up, this part feels perfect.
Once Greer is safely in her car and the doors are locked, I jog over to the player’s lot and meet her at the corner. She claimed she was fine to go ahead and drive to my house, but there’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight any more than I have to. Especially since the stalker was here this evening.
He could be sitting back in the shadows watching, so I also instructed her to drive around before going to my house in an effort to make sure we’re not being followed.
I realize the bastard could’ve followed her last night and might already be casing the place, but I’m confident in the cameras I have around the property for tonight. Before we left the house earlier, I turned on some perimeter cameras I haven’t used in a while, along with the extra sensors in the backyard.
For living in a place like New Orleans and being a public figure, I’ve always felt safe. Throughout my career, I’m lucky enough to say I’ve never had a stalker or even a disgruntled fan. Chalk it up to my good nature or the laid-back fans in this city, but I’ve never worried about my safety or even the safety of my teammates, so this is new to me.
The closest I’ve been to anything like this is when Bo Bennett and Lola Carradine started dating. She’s a rock star, literally, and the paparazzi love to stalk her and know all the ins and outs of her life—public and private.
When they first started dating, it was a little messy at first, but over the last few years, they’ve managed to find a balance and don’t really seem to battle it as much as they did at first.
However, they’re still diligent at keeping their place safe and I’m grateful for the contact with the security company who’s coming out later this week. It’ll make me feel better knowing everything is secure and fully monitored.
Half an hour after we left the stadium, we’re finally turning into my drive. I think I’m going to have a gate added here for an extra layer of protection.
I hit the button to raise the garage doors and Greer parks in the empty bay while I take my usual spot. As the door closes behind us, I find myself checking my rearview mirror one last time. Thankfully, I don’t see anyone or anything out of the norm and I’m trusting the easy feeling in my gut that we weren’t followed.
It’s never steered me wrong and I’m hoping it doesn’t fail me now.
“You good?” I ask, when she steps out of the car and goes to the trunk for her luggage we packed away in there earlier today.
