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Every cell in my body turns to ice and I remain frozen, staring at the police report. Tate, my sweet, fucking adorable Tate, has been stalked and terrorized by my ex-best friend?
But he’s married.
He has fucking kids!
The room spins as I attempt to make sense of this mess. It certainly explains Baker’s sudden appearance back in my life. I didn’t think the timing was suspect, but now it’s obvious. It aligns to around the time I turned on Tate’s phone.
I pointed a beacon right at Tate.
But how did Baker get that information? He said he was a firefighter. They don’t give you access to phone records or how to locate someone with their phone. Either he’s a hacker like me, which is highly doubtful because this shit isn’t easy and Baker’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, or he knows someone at the PMPD.
Who?
I’m going to need to get Sloane over here so we can figure this out. There’s a rat at her station and I’m going to drown them.
First, though, I’m going to beat Baker’s motherfucking face in.
How?
Show up to the goddamn fire station and start whipping his ass?
They’d haul my freakshow ass out in cuffs before I could get two swings on him. Plus, I can’t leave this house. Not like this. I’m an embarrassment to my family.
Because I’m such a mental wreck, I can’t even help my boyfriend.
I can’t protect him like he should be protected.
The breakfast sandwich I inhaled sours in my gut. I’m still reeling from how this could be happening. I didn’t even know Baker liked men. Plus, he’s happily married. How did he end up with Tate?
An overwhelming sense of frustration anchors me, turning every muscle in my body to leaden weights. I don’t know what to do. Sure, I can dig and dig into Baker’s life, but that won’t do shit to stop him. I need proof.
I could invite him here.
Take him up on his offer…
Picking up my phone, I respond to him.
Me: Come over tonight. Alone. We’ll do some much needed catching up.
Fiery hatred toward someone I used to care deeply about consumes me. I want to send him some knife emojis, too, but don’t.
He responds quickly.
Baker: I’ll be there. Tell your little boy toy I said hi.
Fuck. He knows I know it’s him.
Me: He’s mine. Leave him the fuck alone.
Baker: He was mine first.
I’m vibrating with uncontrolled anger as I text Callum. I may not be able to hunt Baker down and destroy him in a murderous rage, but Callum is smart. He’ll help me figure out what to do and how to handle this situation.
One thing’s for damn sure.
This ends tonight.
Tate will be safe once and for all.
