Page 13 of Tracing Her Stolen Identity
“You always could read my expressions,” she said, holding the empty mug out for him to take, which he did, setting it aside.
“Better than your own mother, she always used to say. When did you last tangle with this guy?”
Reece’s words were stiff, and the question was asked through clenched teeth. He had always been her protector. Right or wrong, he’d stood between her and anyone who wanted to hurt her. He let her fight her own battles, but he made it known he was there to wade in if necessary. He didn’t care if it was a teacher, friend or family member—no one who meant her harm was getting past him. This situation felt like a full circle that neither of them was prepared for emotionally. Binate hadn’t given them a choice, though, and she had to remember it was Reece’s literal job to protect her now, nothing else.
“He was the reason I went up the shore to finish my portfolio,” she admitted. “He cornered me at a show around the end of February. He’d just learned another gallery planned to stop hosting his work, and he was angry. I get it. It’s hard being a struggling artist, but as I explained to him, the galleries make their own choices. I wasn’t even hosted in the gallery that dropped him, but he still blamed me. He said I was cheapening the art form by using junk and cheating the system by not paying for my supplies like everyone else had to. That I used my disability as a card to get special favors.”
“I was waiting for that. He sounds like the kind of guy who would throw those words at you.”
“And worse,” Skylar agreed with an eye roll. “He has no filter and isn’t afraid to be loud about it. The organizer caught on that I was not enjoying the conversation and kicked him out.”
“Outout?” he asked with a lift of his brow.
With a nod and a head tilt, she continued. “There were two days left in the show, but he wasn’t allowed back on the grounds. I haven’t seen or heard from him since. Several more galleries dropped him after his tirade at the art show. The original one he was carrying on about?” she asked, and he nodded for her to continue. “They told me they hadn’t simply dropped his work. They had to ban him from the premises as well. He was hard selling to customers on the weekends, and they were getting complaints.”
“Do you go to the galleries to sell your work on the weekends?” Skylar could read his confusion in how his brow pulled down to his nose and the slight tip of his head.
“No. That’s why the pieces are where they are—so the gallery can deal with the customer.”
“Understandable why the galleries didn’t want anything to do with him then.”
“I’m almost positive most galleries and shops have dropped him completely now. Everyone talks in that community, and it would have been hard to miss the confrontation between us. Not that I had anything to do with it. I just took the brunt of it.”
“So this guy,” he said, practically spitting the words through his teeth, “has lost his income stream and wants someone to blame for it.”
“And he picked me,” she finished. “The gallery owner who started the whole thing by dropping him felt terrible and asked if he could host my work in a special showing. An evening with the artist where I would explain my process and why I find recycled and damaged glass perfect for the pieces I make and how I use it to express emotion in each piece.”
“It sounds like an evening I would enjoy,” he said with a smile. “As long as work doesn’t keep me away, I’ll be there.”
There was a slight tap in her chest from a place in her heart that she’d shut down fourteen years ago. That one beat, a reminder that the old Skylar was still in there, made her want to cry. She wanted to cry for the kids they once were and the separate lives they were now forced to live. Skylar shook her head, forcing the tears away. She didn’t have time for that right now. She was in a race for her livelihood.
“If we don’t clear this up, it might not happen.” Her voice was strangled, and she cleared her throat again.
“Secure Watch has you, Sky. I have you. No one will get away with this, and we will get your life back. Miles looks like a good place to start.”
“The gallery assured me there would be security the night of the event. There would be no way to keep it from Miles once they start advertising it, but they’re worried for my safety and that of their patrons.”
“I’m trying to figure out where your trip north came into play.”
“To get away,” she said with a shrug. “To concentrate on my art. The lake always centers me creatively. If I was going to do a private event, I would need a thick portfolio. The time up north gave me that peace where I didn’t have to worry about Miles Bradshaw and his vendetta against me.”
That word lifted his brow. “The fact that you used that word tells me how serious the last interaction with him was, Sky.”
“It’s not a word I’m afraid to use about him. Is Milesgoing to physically hurt me? Probably not. He’s tall and lanky, but the only muscle he uses is his mouth.” Reece snorted at that comment, and Skylar smiled as she shifted on the pillow. “I don’t have him pegged as having the brains to conduct something like this either. He still uses a flip phone.”
His grimace was comical, and she laughed until he spoke. “Trust me when I say that means nothing. Many very savvy tech guys know that flip phones are as low-tech as they come, making them hard to trace.”
“I didn’t think of that, but he doesn’t give me the vibes of being the brains behind an operation like this. Could I see him having enough rage to destroy my house the way it was? Without a second thought. Could I see him trying to set me up by vandalizing art galleries? The fact that whoever did it wasn’t smart enough to spray the building at a level I could reach makes that a solid yes. I just can’t get behind him knowing how to delete my life.”
“Trust me, by the time Secure Watch is done with him, we’ll know his IQ to the decimal point.”
“I have no doubt,” she said with a smirk. Smiling and laughing a little in light of the situation felt good. It released the stress and pressure building in her chest and let her take another breath. “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom and lie down. Can we take a break?”
After tossing the pad on the table, he opened his mouth as though he was going to say something. Before a word came out, he snapped it shut again, stood and held her chair while she transferred into it. “Sure. I’ll contact Mina with this information, then turn security control over to Secure One and catch a few hours myself. Oh, I didn’t think aboutit with how quickly we left the house. Do you have your catheter supplies?”
“I, um, don’t do that anymore,” she stuttered, suddenly wishing she were anywhere but there. “I couldn’t deal with the constant infections, so when I turned twenty-one, they placed a suprapubic tube catheter. It goes through my abdomen into my bladder, allowing me to empty it throughout the day and use a bag at night in bed. I have that stuff in my suitcase.”
His shoulders dropped a hair at the explanation, and she realized he’d been genuinely concerned for a moment. “I’m glad. I was worried I dropped the ball on that one. It’s nice there are other options for you now to make life a bit easier.”
