Page 77 of Wings
Alex.
Had to be. The escalation from watching to contact, the specific targeting of her work location, the implicit threats wrapped in concerned observations.
I forced my breathing steady, falling back on combat training. Assess the threat. Protect the asset. Neutralize with extreme prejudice if necessary.
First things first.
She stirred when I sat on the bed, hand immediately reaching for me even before her eyes opened. "Wings?"
"Morning, baby girl." I kept my voice soft, gentle, even as rage boiled underneath. "Need you to wake up for me."
"S'early." But she was already pushing herself up, blinking away sleep. "Did something happen? You have that face."
I hated that she recognized the concern on it.
"Come here." I pulled her into my lap, her sleep-warm weight grounding me. "Alex has been in touch."
She went rigid. Just for a second, old trauma responses firing before she consciously relaxed against me. "What kind of in touch?"
"Texts. Photos." I kept my voice steady, clinical. "He's been watching you at work. Taking pictures from a distance. Making threats."
"Oh." Such a small sound for such a big fear realized. Her fingers found my shirt again, holding on. "What do we do?"
"I handle it," I said firmly. "Already screenshotted everything, building documentation. Going to talk to Duke today about increasing security measures."
She searched my face, looking for something. Must have found it because she nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Okay. What do you need me to do?"
My good girl. Scared but ready to follow protocol, trusting me to keep her safe even when threats pressed close.
"Follow your normal routine," I instructed. "But I'll be watching over you at work today. Not obvious, just . . . present. And I need you to be extra aware of your surroundings, yeah? Anyone seems off, anyone watching too long, you text me immediately."
"I can do that." She straightened in my lap, finding her strength. "Should I . . . should I change my routes? My patterns?"
Smart girl. "Already thinking tactically. But no—if he's tracking patterns, sudden changes might escalate things. Better to maintain routine while we increase security around it."
"Okay." She was quiet for a moment, processing. Then: "Gabe?"
"Yeah, angel?"
"Is this my fault? For leaving him, for being with you, for—"
"No." The word came out harder than intended, and I gentled my voice. "This is Alex choosing to be a threat. His actions,his responsibility. You did nothing wrong by leaving an abusive situation. You did nothing wrong by finding happiness. This is on him, not you."
She nodded against my chest, and I felt some of the guilt she'd been carrying ease. Good. She had enough weight without adding misplaced responsibility for her ex's inability to let go.
"Now," I said, shifting her off my lap with gentle hands. "You need to get ready for work. Clothes are laid out, smoothie will be ready when you are, and there might be something else waiting for you."
Interest sparked in her eyes, chasing away the last of the fear. "Something else?"
"Go see."
She padded to the chair, finding the folded butterfly note immediately. Her face softened as she read it, fingers tracing the careful creases. "You learned origami for me."
"YouTube University, 2 AM division." I headed for the door, pausing to watch her hold the note like treasure. "Twenty minutes, baby girl. Don't want you running late."
"Yes, Daddy."
The title still hit like lightning, especially when she said it soft like that, full of trust despite the morning's revelations. I'd burn the world down before I let Alex or anyone else touch that trust.
