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“No, you’re not. We’re keeping them and using them as evidence.”
I slide a brow toward my hairline. “Are you planning on telling the police about this now?”
She refused involving anyone after the locker room incident. Garrison approved of her silence. I did not. I have money to keep mouths shut for a little while, but she insisted on keeping it to ourselves. To see if that was the end of it. It wasn’t. I fear it was only the beginning.
We can use the DNA if I haven’t tainted it with my own when I grabbed them from the step. It was a sloppy decision to leave his cum inside of her panties and hand them over. Did he think we wouldn’t use it? Or did he want us to? It’s no longer a sick joke. It’s crossed that line. The photo of us is further proof of that. He’s following us. I suspected that but was never positive until now.
A stalker.
Someone watching and wanting what’s mine, growing angrier and more possessive with each day that passes.
Tinsley pales at my words. “We’d have to tell the police if we wanted a DNA test.”
“Can someone please fill me in here? Who put your things outside the bus, Tinsley? What’s going on?” Justice asks, arms crossed.
“I don’t know. Someone took my underwear from the locker room when I fought my first fight, and I hadn’t thought about it much since then. I thought it was just a creepy fan,” she rambles.
I stare down at the silk draped over my finger for a second more before dropping them onto a dish towel that was left on the kitchen counter. With my palm open, I fight the urge to burn my tainted skin.
Lifting my stare, I focus on Tinsley. When she feels me watching her, she meets my eyes with dull ones before I speak.
“It’s been more than that. In Vancouver, I thought I sensed someone in the alley by the old house. Then, the shit on the porch. The fight. The photo. It’s not a coincidence. Someone is stalking you.”
She rubs at her face and whispers, “How would they have known about the house, Noah?”
“I don’t know.” They shouldn’t have. Nobody does but us. It doesn’t make sense. Isn’t right.
“You have to go to the police.” Justice keeps adding his fucking opinion as if it matters. I have to rein in my frustration with that. He’s trying to help. But it isn’t his place.
“How long would it stay a secret from the public if we did that? I don’t want this coming out and affecting your career or this tour,” Tinsley says. Her voice drops. “My career.”
“I don’t know. Maybe a couple of weeks.” I won’t lie to her.
She huffs, determination masking her lingering worry. “It’s not worth it, then. Not yet. All I have is a pair of underwear and a scratched-up photo. That doesn’t prove anything.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Justice says.
This time, I spin on him, spitting, “Enough.”
Tinsley pushes to her feet and threads her hands through her hair. She tips her head back and exhales a heavy breath. “This is my decision. I refuse to live my life in fear. Bringing the police into this right now won’t help. It will only air out our secrets. This isn’t anything I want the public to know yet, and that’s my right.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Okay? That’s it? You nearly smashed Dagger’s guitar over his head when he stared at Tiny for too long, and that was harmless. You’re really just going to let her walk around with a sicko watching her and do nothing?” Justice exclaims, disbelief blazing in his eyes.
The scowl that tugs at my mouth is dark, unforgiving. I flex my fingers to try and soothe the urge to drive my knuckles into his face. “You think that I’m going to do nothing?”
I crowd his space, a sick sense of pleasure washing over me when he opens his mouth and then snaps it shut.
“I will end anyone who comes close to her. If she doesn’t want the police involved, then I will be the one protecting her. Don’t question me again. I’ll break your spine instead of using words to explain myself.”
With a flex of his jaw, he nods once and steps back.
“I appreciate you caring, Justice. But this isn’t even up to Noah. I’ll be smart, but I don’t want cops around until I have something good enough to give them. If it goes that far,” Tinsley tells him.
I want to touch her. Comfort her. Want to go to her and feel her skin. But my hands are tainted by the man who wants to take her from me. I move to the sink and turn the tap as hot as it will go. The hand soap is slimy on my palms, but it’s not enough. Even as I shove my hands beneath the steaming water and start to scrub, they’re still dirty. They begin to throb and burn the longer I keep them in the water. The pain moves through my system and runs gentle fingers through my mind, settling me little by little. Cleaning me.
A curse from behind me, and then I’m jerked from the sink. Another gentle touch but on my skin instead. I close my eyes and inhale Tinsley’s smell as she holds my hands.
