Page 36 of Dr. Do-Right
“Thank you for keeping my family safe,” she whispered. His face softened as he swallowed, making gentle circles around her shoulder blades.
“Of course, ma—” he caught himself. “Miss Dobrev. It’s my job.”
She hummed. We all watched as the hug drew out for another second. Two. Three…Four. Asher’s eyes flicked to Grayson. The other man’s eyes narrowed, pointedly staring at where Asher’s hands rested on Sonnie’s back. Asher coughed and lifted his arms.
“Er, this seems gratuitous.” He gave her a cautious pat between her shoulder blades.
“It is,” Sonnie sighed. Her arm moved lower. Asher’s eyes widened in shock just before she pulled away.
“Sonnie,” I couldn’t help the watery laugh that stuttered out of me. “You can’t feel up the security team.” Even as I admonished, I pulled her into another hug. I’d missed her and today had been horrible and sometimes a girl just needed her best friend.
“Not both of them. Just that one, and I have no regrets.” At her words, another strangled cough escaped my formerly unflappable bodyguard. The smile she gave me was half-heartedat best, tinged with sadness when she looked at her brother. “You should have told me, Mal.”
“I know.” He shook his head, face a mixture of regret and grief I’d become familiar with in the last few hours. “I know.”
“Come on,” I held my hand out to him, pulling both him and Sonnie down the hallway to the living room. We didn’t need to have this conversation standing around in front of the elevator.
“I had a right to know. She was my friend.” Sonnie’s words struck home, and Malachi winced as they sat on the couch, Mal on one side, and Sonia in the corner of the sectional. My fearless, feisty friend pulled her legs up to her chest. She looked small.
I squeezed his hand before retreating to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. He’d already explained the whole situation to me, and I had a feeling Sonia would take it even more poorly than I did. Maybe it was best to give them some space.
If I wracked my brain, I could remember her mentioning Christine, her freshman year roommate who’d had such a big crush on Malachi that she’d followed them to dinner one night. Apparently, the stalking hadn’t ended there. It hadn’t ended at all. She’d become obsessed with him, upending her life to follow him—stalk him—to Colorado, despite him telling her time and time again that he wasn’t interested.
“I thought we had it under control. She was in treatment at an amazing program in Boulder. I just…I should have worked harder to make sure her doctor was handling this.” Malachi sighed. I could hear the guilt in his voice, and I hated it for many reasons. So did Sonnie.
“Managing the mental health ofyour stalkeris not your responsibility,” she snapped, leaning forward to grip his shoulders and shake him the way I’d wanted to earlier today. “She’s been following you around and threatening you for years. You should have let the police handle it. Tell him, Ri!” She twisted around to glare at me.
I removed the cork with apop. “Trust me, I’ve already told him.” The entire story had come spilling out as soon as I’d gotten home from the hospital earlier today. I was still emotionally spinning between fear and anger. Love. Because while Malachi had filed a restraining order against Christine, he’d simultaneously worked with a mental health facility in Colorado to get her the help she needed, and had employed private security to deal with her threats instead of the police. When I’d demanded to know why he hadn’t worked harder to take legal action and lock her up, he’d looked at me, eyes shining with passion and empathy.
“She’s unwell, Ri. My job is to help people. What else was I supposed to do?”
Even now, thinking about his earnest response broke my heart. Leave it to Dr. Do-Right to try and save everyone—including his stalker.
“Well, it ends now. It’s not just me she’s coming after, anymore.” Mal swallowed, grimly accepting the glass of wine I handed him.
I tried not to imagine the crumpled letter Grayson had grudgingly slid across the counter earlier today. None of the men had wanted me to see it, but I felt I had a right, especially after they’d showed me a few of her more recent threats against Mal. Emails, handwritten cards, and sloppy scribbles, wildly ranging from professing her deep, undying love for him, and explaining in excruciating detail how she was going to harm him. I thought I’d hit some sort of numb threshold of horror, until they finally handed over the newest communication.
The grainy, enlarged photo of Mal and I, leaving the Gala hand-in-hand was marred, mutilated by dark, dripping ink that I didn’t want to examine too closely. The words “She’s dead” scrawled across my face.
I had shoved the picture back into Grayson’s hands. Quickly.
Christine had gone ballistic when word got out that Mal was moving to Chicago to open up a new clinic. When he’d received her threat to show up at the gala, where he’d been publicized as the keynote speaker, Mal had immediately called her doctor in Colorado. By the time they’d gotten someone to her apartment, she’d been long gone, on her way here.
Asher and Grayson had been working all week since the gala, discretely shadowing Mal to work, while splitting their time coordinating with our building’s security and trying to find her. But there was a lot of ground to cover between Boulder and Chicago, and looking for a single woman who didn’t want to be found was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
It wasn’t until this morning, and the bloody handwriting scribbled across my image, that Mal had reached his limit. The RISI team had handed over all their investigation material to the police and locked Mal down. Their sole focus was now only on babysitting us until Christine was caught.
The mentally unwell woman who wanted to kill us.
Another chill rattled my spine, even in the stuffy, warm air of the penthouse.
I’d changed into one of Mal’s old sweatshirts, leggings, and a pair of fuzzy socks when I’d come home, and I still shivered every once in a while. Mal grabbed my hand as I sat next to him, tangling our fingers together.
“She’ll go to jail after this. I’m not fucking around with your safety,” he assured me, thumb sweeping across my knuckles. His declaration made me melt while simultaneously spiking my furious, protective anger.
“But you’re fine with her threateningyou?” I demanded, not for the first time today. I couldn’t imagine living my life with a stalker out in the world, and just going about my day.
Mal rubbed his forehead, squeezing my hand. “We had it under control. She was doing well…I hadn’t gotten a letter oranything from her inyears. She was living on her own. I thought it was fine. I’m sorry.”
