Page 37 of Smoldering Nights
Izzy sat down slowly.“He wasright here, Mitch.He could’ve… I don’t know what he wanted.”
“He wanted to scare you,” Mitch said, jaw tightening.“And it worked.But that’s where it ends.”
She looked up, eyes searching his.“What if he tries again?”
“Then I’ll be ready.”His voice was low, sure.“And next time, he won’t get away.”
He reached out, brushing a knuckle along her cheek.“You’re not alone in this, Izzy.I’m going to stop him, or them, from hurting you.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, exhaling slowly.“Okay.”
Mitch glanced out the glass front door toward the street.Business as usual."You need to close the shop for the rest of today."
"But, I've already lost so..."
"I need to be out and about investigating, and I need to know you're safe.Right now, Sadie isn't an option as long as Travis is a suspect.So, you need to be at my place, where security is abundant."
He watched as she swallowed, took a deep breath, and resigned herself to the truth of his words.
"How will I ever get my business back if I can't be here?"
"I'll help you with that.Once all of this is settled.I've got some amazing friends here, and we'll all help you get Petal Pushers to be the busiest little shop in town.Hell, maybe the state."
She smiled but didn't laugh as he hoped she would.That was his next goal: getting her happiness back.
Chapter18
Izzy sat curled in the passenger seat of Mitch’s truck, her arms hugging her waist so tightly it felt like the only thing holding her together.Her heartbeat hadn't slowed, not even after Mitch had gotten there and wrapped her in those strong, steady arms.That brief moment of safety was already fading, replaced by the memory of the figure in the alley and the voice that had carved a warning straight into her bones.
Stop digging.
She hadn’t even realized how deeply she’d gone.She wasn’t an investigator; she arranged flowers.But somehow, she’d stirred up something ugly.Something dangerous.
Mitch’s truck rolled to a stop in his driveway, and she barely registered the motion until he shut off the engine and came around to open her door.She slid out like a ghost, numb and silent.
Inside, the familiar scent of him, clean soap, coffee, and a hint of pine, grounded her more than anything else had all day.He locked the door behind them and handed her a glass of water.She took it, her hands trembling so badly some of it sloshed over the rim.He didn’t say anything.Just pressed a light touch to the small of her back and guided her to the couch.
“I’m going to do another sweep outside,” he said softly.“Won’t be long.”
She nodded, clutching the glass like a lifeline.As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, the floodgates opened.
Tears spilled over, silent and hot.She pressed the heel of her hand to her mouth to muffle the sound, but it didn’t stop the shaking.She hated how scared she felt, how powerless.She hadn’t cried when the shop was vandalized.She hadn’t cried when the funeral flowers were ruined.But this?
This had been personal.Deliberate.That person had waited for her.Watched her.
She was being hunted, and she didn’t even know why.
After a few minutes, she wiped her eyes and stood, needing to move.Todosomething.Her gaze landed on the bag she’d brought from the shop; inside were delivery slips, invoices, anything she thought might help Mitch piece this together.Her fingers skimmed through them absently…until one caught her attention.
It didn’t match the others.
The handwriting was uneven.The ink was smeared slightly, like it had been written in a rush.The supplier wasClearway Supply, a name she didn’t recognize.And it was time-stamped for 11:37 a.m.yesterday.
But no one had come at that time.No deliveries.No drop-offs.No memory of seeing anyone.
Her heart lurched.A chill raced down her spine.
She pulled out her phone with shaking fingers and texted Mitch:
