“So tell me everything,” I demand, wishing I could take his hands in mine to stop him from nervously picking up and putting down his enormous mug of sugar and cream.
“I came in and followed your advice. I rotate coffee shops, keep it unpredictable.”
“Mads. We agreed you shouldn’t come to this specific coffee shop because he knows it’s your favorite.”
“I just wanted a sense of normalcy, Anthony. I’d forgotten how frightening it was to have him pop up like that. I thought it was safe to come back.”
“But you didn’t tell your detail. You got lucky I was close by.”
“Are you going to let me tell you what happened, or are you going to nag me?”
I hold up my hands. “Sorry. Please go ahead.”
“I’ll have you know I was aware of my surroundings the entire walk over.”
“You walked over?”
I swear, I’m going to kill this man if I don’t fuck him first.
No.
No.
I will not be fucking him.
And killing him would be illegal, so that’s also off the table.
He raises his lush eyebrows at me, and I wave for him to continue.
“As I was saying…” He pauses to glare at me. It’s cute. “I sat down and caught something out of the corner of my eye. I even did what you said. I didn't look at him directly. I angled myself a little better, and from my peripheral vision, I could tell it was him. The white hair and navy blazer.”
Hm. Always the same, easily identifiable getup. Like he wants to be seen.
My jaw tightens. “He's playing with you. Letting you get a glimpse of him, then making you doubt yourself. You don't want me to put a guard on you because you don't think it's real, but you know it's real. The emails for sure were real.”
“Those don’t have anything to do with my stalker, and you know it.”
He’s right, of course. Ryder, Mads’ inside expert, couldn’t find a link between the emails and this fucking guy whose head I’d like to pop off. I fucking hate that he’s being threatened from all directions. It’s the worst game of Whack-A-Mole, and I have nightmares about something slipping through my layers of defense.
Even without the emails, this is far more serious than Mads is letting on, and there’s no way I’m letting him get off without a security detail following his every move.
Oh, does that sound stalkery to you?
Ask me if I give a fuck.