Page 131 of Vexatious Queen

“That means they had to be sitting on the service road,” Myles added. “But I didn’t see any cars moving, and it’s pretty far away.”

“Not if you have binoculars and you move before you send the text,” Liam added.

“Smart and creepy. Good combo,” Blake said, shuddering.

“Well, they seem to be targeting Ren specifically, so we will just stay vigilant,” Nash said.

I leaned my head back on the booth, no longer interested in my burger and fries.

“Could it be any of your guys? I know that may be a long shot, but are there any that feel slighted or left out now that Lawrence is dead? Anyone you had to kick out, or have recently brought into your inner circle?”

“I vet each of them personally,” Liam said, his confidence evident. “There is no way it is any of our guys. And we haven’t had any issues. Their families are safe, and they all got pay raises for their roles. I don’t see it.”

“Alright, that’s enough. We’re supposed ta be having a nice Valentine’s dinner,” Myles said.

He had a point, but this newest threat had soured my mood.

“I won’t let whoever this is get to me. I’m over it. But I’m also done with the special occasions. They never go well.”

I tossed my napkin down on the table and nudged Nash out of the way so I could slide out.

“I’m using the restroom, and then we are going back to Wayward.”

The guys didn’t argue, so I turned for the back hallway. The quick movement stretched my new ink, and I winced. The small tattoos on my fingers didn’t hurt, but my side was another story.

After I finished and washed my hands, I stood in front of the mirror. My side was still itchy and sore, and the plastic wrap protecting the piece was uncomfortable. I slowly lifted my sweater to look at the artwork.

Trixie was a true artist. There was no denying that. The detail work on each name was immaculate. The black script along my ribs flowed beautifully with the vines and small decorative flowers woven throughout. Trixie had even managed to incorporate a snowflake, a bird in flight, a crown, a rabbit, and the front end of Theo’s motorcycle. It was incredible.

Letting the sweater fall back into place, I locked eyes with myself in the mirror. This seemed like as good a time as any to implement my new motto, WWEGD. Unlocking my phone, I sent a message to my dad.

R: Hey Dad, I guess you’ve already heard about the text message?

The little dots were immediate. It was silly, but the fact that he always responded so quickly made me feel special.

Dad: I have. Are you okay?

R: I am.

Dad: I know you said that you didn’t want me to get involved, and I respected that. But you’ve now received two messages, are you sure you don’t want me to look into this?

R: No, I can’t run to you every time something strange happens. This could all still be a childish prank. I have the guys, and I need to learn how to handle this kind of thing myself.

Dad: I understand, but I will never think less of you if you ask. I’ve been at this a lot longer than all of you combined.

I smiled.

R: I know, thank you. I could use some of that expertise, though. What would you do if the texts were going to you?

Dad: To start, don’t change anything. Including your current plans, act as if it is business as usual. Keep your schedule and any activities the same. The more you disrupt your routine, the more the individual feels they have power over you. Stay vigilant, but don’t deviate from your norm.

That made sense. We had spent our whole evening focusing on the text instead of enjoying a night out together. The stalker had gotten to me, despite my earlier words, and my first reaction was to run back to the safety of Wayward.

R: Anything else?

Dad: Find someone to trace the number back to the source. If they don’t really know what they are doing, you’ll find them right away. If they are skilled, then you know you’re dealing with a professional. That will narrow down the suspect pool. I can do this for you. I have a guy.

That was a really good idea, and I just happened to know someone who could help.