I nuzzled her cheek, a sharp inhale of breath sounding from her lips at the contact. “I won’t hurt you,” I promised, pressing a kiss beneath her ear. “But they will. They’ll rip you apart, just like they’re trying to do to me.”
I could taste the salt of her tears as I trailed my lips back to hers, sampling them for what might be the last time. “I love you, Keely Doyle. I’ve wanted to say that for two years now. I love you, and you’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
More tears fell from her eyes as she stared back at me, sniffling the only sound from her for a long moment. “Then please don’t leave me.”
I ran my swelling knuckles along the plane of her cheek, sure I was witnessing my own heart imploding. “Loving you means leaving you.”
I wouldn’t let them chase her, too. One was tolerable. I’d gone one on one with a reporter before. The trouble came when two, three, or four found the trail. I had to pull it elsewhere. It’s the only way she could lead a normal life.
As expected, she fell apart at my words, her shaking hands falling on either side of my face, palms soft against the stubble. “Don’t talk like that. That’s crazy talk.”
I stared down at my world for one last time before kissing her forehead. “Stay in here. I’ll call the police and have him removed.”
I pulled away, but she followed close like a puppy at my side, not taking the warning seriously. “Ethan, I told you he’s my friend…”
“I said stay!” I bellowed, ready to lock her in the bedroom myself if I had to.
She scampered back toward the room herself, shutting the door with a loud slam but not before a sob escaped. One that cut through me like a knife through butter.
I studied the closed bedroom door for a long moment before heading to the front door, opening it to find her front landing clear, a spittle of blood left where the man once was.
* * *
I didn’t have time to stop at the hospital, boarding my flight two hours later at the last minute with my hand swelling more every minute. Nestled in coach between two snoring men, I asked the attendant for a cup of ice that remained on my knuckles the entire six-and-a-half-hour flight. I didn’t sleep, spending the time planning, chasing down options above the Atlantic.
Upon landing, I headed straight to the hospital, emerging an hour later with a new partial cast, cash payment covering my tracks. I took a taxi to my rental flat, a nondescript hole-in-the-wall joint that was perfect for blending in. It was there that things fell into place.
As soon as I turned my cell back on, messages came pouring in, all ignored while I set about insulating Kee. She needed protection in the meantime, protection I could secure with a few phone calls.
Next up was a private investigator hired to hunt the hunter. He might have thought he was slick cuddling up to someone close to me, but I had pockets deeper that his entire pathetic paper and then some. He might be hungry for the story, but I’d eat him alive before he even tasted a nibble.
From what I gathered on the Bold’s site, good old Rick had a hard-on for me for quite some time, nearly his entire bio dedicated to Ever conspiracy theories. Some observations were dead-on, pinning me as someone local to Boston, but others were far off, painting me as some sort of avant-garde personality.
I was determined to beat him at his own game, spending hours combing the web for everything there was to know about Richard Gray. In the end, I knew where he lived, where he worked, and the name of everyone in his immediate family. It was enough to file an order of protection for me through my attorney on the grounds of stalking. That in itself was enough to keep him from prying in the meantime. I’d have my attorneys fire off cease and desist letters for good measure, too. I’d follow the same route with the Boston Bold, and if Kee would allow it, I’d do the same for her.
It was a risk to so forcefully combat the offense head-on, but I had no other choice. Rick was the closest a threat had ever gotten. Only because I’d gotten lazy. But it was 9:00 AM in Boston, and Rick was about to encounter an assault worse than my fist once my attorneys completed everything. And if he tried to open his mouth, the legal squeeze would take the air right out of his lungs.
Keely
The police arrived a few minutes after Ethan left, the knock scaring me out of my mind. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve ignored the pounding, but I knew a police knock when I heard it, the telltale rap against the wood signaling I had to open up or else I’d regret it.
A pair of patrolmen were at my door with Rick whose bloodied lip had seen better days, the lower portion ballooning into shades of purple. They needed to speak with me about Rick’s assault report, but after everything, I only let the officers in, telling Rick we’d have to talk another time before promptly shutting the door in his face.
In reality, I wasn’t planning on speaking to him again. While I didn’t know Ethan as well as I thought I did, I was sure he didn’t go around attacking people for fun. He was mad enough to see Rick at my place that I knew something was seriously wrong.
The officers were less than pleased that I wouldn’t give them Ethan’s name, more than miffed when I corrected them when they called him Ethan, insisting his name was Ian. Was lying wrong? Yes. Did I care? No. Ethan said Rick was following him. I wouldn’t give them a name to work with
