Page 172 of Letters From A Stalker

“I didn’t tell you to leave.” Not this time.

He studies me for a moment, as if searching for some meaning I haven’t given him permission to assume. “No,” he says quietly. “You didn’t.”

His attention flicks toward the house. “Your firm is connected to the foundation?”

“Apparently more than I realized. We’ve been handling the legal work for a couple of months now, but nobody ever mentioned your name.”

“I didn’t know this was the law firm where you work.” His expression tightens almost imperceptibly before he adds, “I used to, obviously, but…”

“I know.” That makes him look at me more carefully. “I found the Board order.”

For the first time, Kai looks away. His jaw tightens as he stares toward the open field beyond the house, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter. “I never expected you to see that.”

“I know. That’s part of why it mattered.”

His eyes come back to mine.

“You didn’t report yourself because you thought I’d find out,” I continue. “You didn’t know whether I would ever speak to you again.”

“No.”

“And you did it anyway.”

Something shifts in his face, but he doesn’t defend himself or explain what it cost him. That matters too. For a moment neither of us speaks, and I glance toward the motorcycle because looking directly at him has suddenly become difficult.

I glance toward the house. “So this really is connected to you.”

“Yeah. The property was left to me years ago. I transferred it to the foundation when we opened the safe house.”

I look past him toward the house again, seeing it differently now. The security, the playground, everything Renee spoke about inside. Somehow it fits him and surprises me at the same time, which feels annoyingly familiar.

“You never mentioned any of this.”

“There wasn’t really a reason to.” Of course that would be his answer. No performance, no need to make sure I knew what kind of man funded a place like this. He had simply done it and gone back to work.

When I look at him again, something about the sight of him standing here without the suit, the glasses or anything else between us catches me off guard.

“You look good.” I hadn’t planned to say it, and judging by the way his expression changes, Kai hadn’t planned on hearing it either.

His eyes move over my face before he glances down and rubs a hand across the back of his neck, genuinely at a loss for words in a way I’ve never seen before.

It is unfairly endearing.

His gaze lifts to mine again, warmer now. “You look fucking beautiful.”

Heat rises into my face despite the cold. There is something unmistakably Ghost in the bluntness of it, except there is no Ghost anymore, no darkness or mask to hide behind. It is simply Kai, standing in front of me in broad daylight and letting me see exactly what he thinks.

“Thank you.” I blush.

He nods and pushes both hands into his jacket pockets, and the gesture catches somewhere beneath my ribs because I know those hands too well to miss what he is doing with them.

As Dr. Blackwood, they had held pens and notebooks, occasionally lifted in some irritatingly calm gesture while he dismantled whatever excuse I was trying to sell him that week. As Ghost, they had never hesitated to touch me. Now he keeps them carefully out of reach.

“How have you been?” he asks.

There is more beneath the question than the words can hold, but for once he doesn’t try to dig for the rest.

“Good. Actually good.” I watch his face soften as I say the words we’ve been working so hard to replace “I’m fine” with. His mouth pull into a smile and I can help but smile back.