Page 77 of The Bodyguard's Fall

It was the breeze in my room, lightly ruffling the hair on my forehead, that first woke me. I stretched and moved over in bed, finding a new spot on the cool sheets. I sighed contentedly, relishing the contrast of the crisp sheets and my warm blanket. The room was colder than normal, but it was nice. It had been a long time since I’d woken up to the sound of birds and rustling leaves outside my window. I’d missed the feeling of a lazy fall morning.

The curtains billowing. The open window. The sound of the sprinklers on the lawn.

My eyes opened.

At first glance, there was nothing amiss. My yellow sundress from the barn dance was still thrown haphazardly across the chair at the desk. My shoes were sitting in the corner of the room where I’d flung them. My purse hung on a coat hook near the door. Untouched. My computer still lay on the other side of the bed, where I’d written two more scenes before bed. To an untrained eye, everything seemed fine.

But there was a disturbance in the air. A pause. Like a breath inhaled but not released. As if the room held secrets I wasn’t privy to just yet.

And a light scent of musk.

I turned my face to the side, my cheek brushing against something soft on my pillow. I picked it up. It was a rose petal. My stomach tightened in dread as I took in more. I’d been outlined in rose petals on my bed. I eyed the shut door of the closet in my room with a growing alarm. With a scream trapped in my throat, I pushed the covers off me and sat up.

Something dropped from the bed as I did so. A loud thud sounded as it hit the hardwood. I startled at the noise before peering over the side. A small black rectangular box with silver buttons lay ominously on the floor.

It was not mine.

While a part of me wanted to call for Tate right then, another part of me wanted to be certain it was something to make noise over first. Leaning down, I picked it up, only to drop it again when the other side held a sticky note addressed to “My Love.”

A panicked moan shot from my lips as I leaped from the sheets and banged on the wall behind me, yelling for Tate. I made my way around the bed and flew toward the exit. Before I could get there, my door was flung open, and Tate barreled inside, catching me in his arms and looking ready to fight a bear. Once he determined I was alone, he drew back, his gaze combing over me.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“He was here.”

“What?!” He broke away from me and stormed toward the closet, yanking open the door before finding nothing and striding to the window, flinging the curtain back. When he saw nothing there, he was on his stomach, checking under my bed. A caged animal ready to fight.

And then he found the voice recorder. He cursed softly as he picked it up and examined it. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I didn’t want the nightmare to start all over again. Tate gave me an apologetic look, holding my gaze as he pressed play. I leaned against the open doorway, a hand over my mouth, bracing myself for whatever we were about to hear.

At first, it was only static—some heavy breathing. And then a soft, nasally, and familiar voice broke through. A voice that induced chills and wrapped an icy grip around my heart.

“Liv. Hi, sweetheart. I just... If you wanted to leave town, you should have told me. I would have come with you. But I strongly suspect that they’re the ones who made you leave,” he spat out bitterly with a sigh before he spoke more deranged thoughts out loud. “It’s that same guy from your brother’s wedding. I hate him. He’s trying to mess up my plans. Our plans.” There was static, and he dropped his voice to a whisper. “You just rolled over and said something in your sleep. It was adorable. I’ve missed you. I almost have our secret hideaway ready to go, and then I’ll be back to get you. I have to wait for the right moment so nobody ruins our plans. But I’ve got a spot picked out right on the beach for us to get married.” He began to laugh, a breathy, nerdy kind of laugh that made my stomach clench. “And no, I’m not going to tell you what beach, you silly girl. I’ll surprise you with it. But don’t worry. I even got you a wedding dress. The top of it looks kind of like that white shirt you were wearing the day we met. With the lace across the top. Remember? You’re going to love it. Anyway, I’m so glad I got to see you tonight. I hope you like the roses. See you soon, sweetheart.”

The unnerving static filled the room before Tate turned it off.

He stood stock-still, eyes on me, poised like he was ready to fight an army, but his feet were rooted in place. There were so many emotions filling every line on his face—disbelief, shock, disgust…all there. But anger was the one emotion clouding everything.

“Where did you find this tape?” His voice was low. Controlled.

“It fell off the bed when I lifted my covers.”

He swallowed, closing his eyes briefly. “Did you see anything? Hear anything?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Was the window open when you went to bed?”

“No.”

Tate swore before leaping into action. He strode toward the door, toward me, his hands on my shoulders, lightly moving me out of the way before he took one step out of the room, yelling down the hallway for his brothers and dad.

To my surprise, he didn’t leave me. He could have. I was as still as a statue when he passed by. I hadn’t moved yet. My limbs felt heavy and unnatural. Like I wasn’t in my own body. He stepped back into the room and, with gentle hands on my face, forced me to look up at him.

“Breathe, Liv.” With his hand on my neck, he lightly guided me to lean over, my hands on my knees while I caught my breath. How does one begin to process such a thing? How had a man so deranged managed to break into a home full of men itching for a reason to hunt him down? And he didn’t even hurt them or me. He left a clue. He made sure they would know that he was there.

Here.

He was here.