Page 25 of Tides of Change
Garrett’s jaw tightened. “I’m not using you as bait, Ethan.”
I shook my head, and my resolve hardened. “I’m not talking about bait. I’m talking about taking back control of my life. I’m not letting them keep me locked in my house, afraid of my shadow.”
His eyes softened in understanding. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to protect you. Now you have the force behind you. Patrol units will be watching your house at night. And I’ll be watching even closer.”
His confidence settled something inside me. For the first time, I felt like I wasn’t fighting this battle alone.
As we returned to the SUV, the crisp morning air filled my lungs, a sharp contrast to the stifling fear that had consumed me for weeks. Garrett opened the passenger door like a gentleman, and I slid into the seat. He shut the door with a solidthunk, rounded the hood, and climbed into the driver’s side. The engine rumbled as he pulled out of the lot, but instead of heading toward my house, he turned onto Main Street.
“Where are we going?” I asked, sharper than he deserved. The tension of the morning still thrummed under my skin.
“I’m kidnapping you,” Garrett said, deadpan.
I grimaced.
He glanced sideways at me and winced. “Too soon?”
“Way too soon.” Despite myself, I chuckled.
He pulled into a spot in front of The Coffee Cove, the sign over the door swaying gently in the ocean breeze. “We’re taking a break.” He toggled his shoulder radio and called in a code seven.
Inside, the familiar warmth of the coffee shop soothed my frayed nerves, though I still found myself glancing over my shoulder at the people passing by. Everyone seemed to blend seamlessly into the easy rhythm of a small tourist town, and I let out a breath of relief.
The scents of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wrapped around me like a comforting hug. Garrett approached the counter with the same casual confidence he carried everywhere, greeting the barista.
“Hey, Jessica. Medium black coffee and…” He turned to me, his eyebrow raised in mock expectation. “Pumpkin spice latte?”
The corner of my mouth twitched. “You know me too well.”
I instantly caught myself, my cheeks warming. Garrett and I were friends—I’d opened up to him about the stalker—but I didn’t want to assume too much. Friendships, especially ones formed under pressure, needed time to grow naturally.
He winked, his grin softening the tension inside me. “I’ve got your back.”
The words landed differently than they should have. They weren’t just professional—they were personal. I wasn’t just his job. He genuinely cared. Something as small as ordering my favorite drink reminded me of that.
When Cooper handed us the drinks a few minutes later, the familiar scent of cinnamon and nutmeg drifted through the air.Garrett passed me the cup, his fingers brushing mine briefly and sending a buzz through my core.
“Thank you,” I murmured, wrapping my hands around the warm paper. I stared out the shop’s wide window at the bustle of Main Street. People strolled past, chatting and laughing, oblivious to the storm brewing in my life. Somewhere out there, my stalker could be watching. Yet, for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel like prey. “This feels…normal,” I admitted softly. “Something I’ve been craving.”
“Good,” Garrett said firmly. “We’re going to take back your life.”
The words settled over me like a shield.
We climbed into the SUV, and Garrett drove us home. When he parked in my driveway, I reached for the door handle, but he was already at my side. He opened my door and gestured for me to lead the way.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
“I can?—”
“It’s not up for discussion.”
I nodded and led the way. As I approached the door, my steps faltered, and my stomach twisted sharply. My scalp prickled as my gaze locked onto the object sitting on my doormat.
“What’s—” Garrett started and stepped past me. His sharp intake of breath. “Fudge!”
There, resting half-hidden in the fibers of my doormat, was a silver locket—small, delicate, and unmistakably out of place. The chain was broken, the links jagged like they had been yanked free. My blood turned to ice.
“I know this,” I whispered, throat tight. “This is from my sixth book.”
