Page 23 of Bulletproof Weeks

“The thing I don’t understand is why? We were barely together.”

He tucked a lock of hair around her ear. “I don’t know. The only thing I can think of is that you’re the first woman I really allowed into my life since her.”

“And the threat?”

“Was veiled. Nothing concrete that I could go to the police with.”

She squeezed his leg. “What does that mean? Veiled. She either threatened me or she didn’t.”

He reached for his phone on the end table, flicked it on and seemed to be swiping through a few folders. “Here.”

She looked down at the photo. The note was typed on heavy card stock and had obviously been pieced back together. She turned his phone to the side and magnified it to read it.

You made the correct choice. She was never good enough for you. She doesn’t love you the way I do. She never could.

I did like walking around her place though. Words are power. We know that don’t we, love? Her world is full of words, new and old. So many pretty books and pictures. So fragile.

I’m glad you didn’t make me show you how fragile.

Love,

Me

Her place. The threat was there, whether it was actually her or the bookstore, it was spelled out without actually showing anything. It felt like someone actually ran an icicle down her spine. She looked up at Logan. “These are the kinds of notes she sends?”

“She never signs her name, but it’s always on that paper. Of course you can buy it at any stationery store, but it’s always that paper.”

She scrolled over to the edges. “I can’t be sure, but it looks a helluva lot like invitation paper.” She handed him the phone. “Like wedding invitation paper.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was told.” He looked down at the picture, his hand tightening on the case.

“All right.” She took the phone and put it on the table. “We’re going to figure this out. You and me.” She rolled onto her knees in front of him. “No secrets, Logan. Is that everything?”

“The only other thing I know right now is that she’s in the Mediterranean. Paris before that for New Year’s.”

“Huh. So that’s what Sarah was bitching about.”

“Sarah?”

“My bodyguard. Said she was in Paris just recently. Seemed like my detail may have been a downgrade in her mind.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I’ve had someone paying attention to the both of you. It was a little harder for me to watch Aimee since she has her own security. Her parents being worth a few hundred billion makes her a bit more of a nightmare.”

“And she seems the type to enjoy an entourage.”

“You’d be right. The fact that we were together for a few months and I knew how her detail worked was the only reason Roth could get near her at all.”

“Well, if she’s out of the country then maybe we can actually try for a normal life.” Surprised that she’d said it, let alone thought it, she met his gaze. And immediately knew she meant it. He loved her? That was crazy.

“Nothing about me is synonymous with normal, Iz.”

“Tell me about it.” She curled her arms around his neck. “But I don’t want to talk about your psycho ex-girlfriend right now.”

“No?”

“No. Let’s go back to that part where you said you love me.”

He pulled the blanket out from between them and slid his hand under her shirt. His shoulders relaxed as he tipped his chin up to look at her. “I love you, Isabella Marie Grace.”

---