Page 3 of The Maverick

Vanessa unlocked the door and flew down the stairs, screeching to a halt in order to compose herself. Standing just inside the front door, she braced one hand on the wall to quiet her breathing. She wasn’t someone who wrung her hands or chewed her lip waiting on a man. But Hawke wasn’t just a man, and this wasn’t just another call for help.

She peeked at the small security feed just to the left of her door to confirm it was him. The porch light illuminated Hawke—broad shoulders beneath a black jacket, his dark hair wind-ruffled and damp from the drizzle that had started just before sunrise. He walked like he was on a mission, like the world narrowed down to a single point and he owned it.

The moment she opened the door, his gaze locked on hers—sharp… piercing… controlled. God help her. She forgot how to breathe for a second.

“You said ten minutes,” she said, her voice sounding too even, too controlled, too forced.

“Made it in eight.” He stepped inside, scanning the space before she could shut the door. “Where’s the letter?”

“How do you know about the letter?”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “You don’t really think everything that’s said in the submissives’ salon stays in the submissives’ salon, do you?”

He had a point. Hawke always had a point. Vanessa stepped aside and gestured toward the dining table without answering; he was already moving. He didn’t take off his jacket. Didn’t sitdown. Just crossed to the envelope like he was walking into an active crime scene.

She followed a few steps behind, watching as he pulled the note free with gloved hands. Of course, he wore gloves. Of course, he came prepared. Hawke didn’t half-ass anything. That was part of the problem.

“You don’t look surprised,” she said.

“Because I’m not.”

He turned the paper sideways, examining the handwriting with a critical eye. His face remained unreadable. He was always so damn hard to read unless he wanted you to know exactly what he was thinking. Then, it was a piece of cake.

“How long have you been watching me, Hawke?” she asked.

His eyes didn’t lift. “Long enough to know you’ve had four stalker-level fans…”

“Readers,” she corrected automatically.

He looked up. He was not amused. “Fine. Four stalker-level readers in the last five years. Two harmless. One delusional. One... this one.”

Vanessa folded her arms. “I can take care of myself.”

His gaze flicked to her at the kitchen island, noticing the missing butcher knife and back to her. “No, you can’t. Not this time.”

She bit down on the flare of indignation in her chest. “Just because I don’t run to a cop or the nearest bodyguard every time someone crosses a line doesn’t mean I’m incompetent.”

“I never said you were incompetent. You didn’t call me because you needed backup,” he said, folding the letter carefully and sliding it back into the envelope. “You called me because something inside you knows this one’s different. This isn’t some reader-boy with a fantasy. This is escalation.”

“I thought maybe it was a hacker,” she said, quieter now. “Someone who got into my system and pulled a file.”

“Doubtful. I know you had Silver Spur not only install your security system but upgrade the security on your computer. Could someone have hacked their way into your files? Yes, but it’s unlikely. The other, more reasonable possibility, is that it was someone with access to your home.” He walked to her bookshelf, crouched, and touched the pulled-forward copies. “You didn’t move these?”

“No.”

“Any cleaners? Handymen? Club friends over recently?”

“None. Not here.”

He nodded and stood, taking in the room again with a slow, methodical sweep. “He wanted you to find it. That’s deliberate. That means he’s watching for your reaction. He’s studying your behavior.”

“So, what? You think he’s nearby?”

“I think he’s already been inside your head,” Hawke said, turning to face her. “Now he wants inside your life.”

Her fingers curled into fists. “I should have seen this coming.”

“No,” he said, sharp. “You don’t get to blame yourself. Not when the asshole out there made a conscious decision to target you.”

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