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Blinking, I gazed around and was momentarily confused when I saw I wasn’t in my own bed.
My memories from the night before flooded through me the next instant, though. I was in Ryan’s bed, in his house. That was all well and good, but what had woken me up? I don’t think it’d been a dream. I couldn’t remember having one, anyway.
I couldn’t understand what I was feeling, but the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, and my muscles were tense. It was as if my body had locked itself into a defensive state, but I didn’t know where the danger was.
Suddenly, I heard a crash from downstairs.
“Ryan!” I gasped, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him, my heart racing. “Ryan, wake up!”
With a groan, he shook his head and murmured, “Sleeping…”
“I know you’re sleeping,” I growled, shoving him harder. “But I need you to wake up! I heard something downstairs.”
He opened his eyes and stared up at me for a moment with a furrowed brow, apparently confused.
“What? What’s happening?” he mumbled.
“I heard something downstairs,” I said again. “Something crashed. It sounded like glass.”
He looked instantly alert, and he sat up.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “I’m going to go check it out.”
“Okay.”
He got up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before hurrying out of the room. Once he was gone, I got up as well and threw on one of his t-shirts before rushing out the door and down the hall to Henry’s room. Despite Ryan’s warning to stay still, I needed to make sure my baby was okay.
When I reached the room, I carefully cracked it open and peeked inside. Seeing that he was still sound asleep, I let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been disturbed at all, it seemed.
Shutting the door again, I turned and considered going back to Ryan’s room but decided against it and instead made my way downstairs. I descended slowly, not wanting to draw any attention to myself in case someone was in the house.
I stopped when I spotted Ryan standing near the front door. One of the windows beside it was broken, glass littering the floor. Ryan’s back was to me, but it looked like he was holding something.
“Ryan?” I murmured, reaching the bottom of the stairs. “What happened?”
He glanced over his shoulder at me with a frown. “I told you to stay upstairs.”
I arched a brow at him. “Yes, and I took your suggestion into consideration. Now, tell me what happened? What’s in your hand?”
Sighing, he turned to me and held up a large rock. In his other hand, he was holding a piece of paper.
“Someone threw a rock through the window,” he explained. “This note was attached to it.”
He handed me the paper. Frowning, I looked down at it and found it covered in angry, scrawling writing.
Ryan Carson,
You’ve ruined my life. Did you think you could just get rid of me? That I’d disappear quietly and simply take the humiliation you’ve piled on me? No, Carson, no. Not a chance. I’m going to make you regret throwing me aside like I was worthless. You’ll pay for everything you’ve done to me. You and everyone close to you.
I froze reading the last words. This man wasn’t only furious, he was crazy. Like, certified. He knew where I lived and had already attacked my home. What if he came after Henry next?
Ryan was apparently able to see my distress. He closed the distance between us and took the note from my hand.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he murmured, crumpling the paper up and throwing it away. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m going to take care of this. I swear.”
“Ryan, what if he’s still here?” I asked, clutching at his shirt and gazing up at him with wide eyes.
“You go upstairs and lock yourself in Henry’s room,” he ordered. “I’ll call the cops and make sure the house is clear, okay?”
