Page 14 of Carte

All this time, I wanted him to leave me alone. But now, when that was a real possibility, I couldn’t cope with the thought of not feeling safe like this ever again.

Tonight, I learned two things.

One, I wasn’t as safe as I thought I was. Two, I didn’t want Carter to leave me.

I wasn’t sure which of those two truths scared me more.

What I did know was that I was fucked.

Chapter Four

Carter

“Tell me you have something,” I said into the phone.

“Nothing substantial, but he’s not the guy you’re looking for,” Chace said.

“How can you be sure?” I snapped.

“Because I’m fucking good at what I do, dickhead,” Chace snapped right back, but then continued in the more normal tone. “And the man has an alibi for the break-in.”

Fuck. The break-in at Harley’s apartment. I still haven’t told her about that fun fact.

“Give it to me,” I invited.

Chase didn’t make me wait. “Jude Brown, twenty-eight years old. Lives with his mother and father, temps as a music teacher. Or he used to, until a year ago when he won a stint in a medical facility and was diagnosed with a borderline personality disorder. That was after he got collared for stalking and peeping on a coworker, Juliete Ward. No other priors. While in custody, he leaned heavily into music therapy. Was discharged six months later and transferred to an outside treatment regime. After, he had a few odd jobs here and there, but nothing stuck. Attended every appointment with his probation officer and scheduled therapy. It seemed he got his life back on track.”

“It seemed wrong,” I said.

“Yeah,” Chase muttered.

“What tripped him?”

“According to the records?” Chase sighed. “Nothing. He hasn’t missed an appointment with his therapist, he picks up his meds regularly, and his screens come back negative every time. He’s a success story on paper.”

“Maybe he’s working with someone,” I pushed.

“Don’t be such a naïve pussy,” Chace shot back. “You know as well as I do that those particular kind of fucks work alone. They’re possessive, territorial, with a single-minded focus.”

“So, what you’re essentially telling me is Harley has two stalkers on her ass.” I sighed.

Fuck me, I was fucking whipped.

After they got Jude out of the club, and into the police car, I took Harley back to the hotel. She didn’t push again with her question if her situation was over. Even before I got Chace on the phone, I knew it was far from over.

Jude didn’t have the patience and planning abilities that were required for this level of fucked-up. No, he was more like an overexcited puppy that got the first look at its owner.

He was fixated on Harley, and thought her songs were for him and only him, but that was where his fixation ended. Was he capable of violence? Of course, everyone was. But not towards Harley. In his fucked-up mind, he knew if he hurt her, her songs would stop, and he needed them to continue.

What made my whole body vibrate was seeing the dazed look in Harley’s eyes, and when she sat in the back of the car, she clasped her hands together in her lap in a vain attempt to stop their tremble. In fact, her whole body trembled.

That woman, who held the crowd of thousands of people transfixed with her voice, who had countless people eating out of the palm of her hand just by the touch of her fingers to the strings of her guitar while on stage. A woman who could get any man to his knees just by one single look. A woman who after such a short time became an itch under my skin I couldn’t scratch.

A woman that a dynamo.

My Dynamo was trembling because some sick fuck cornered her in a dark hallway.

The moment we got to the hotel, she slammed the door to her bedroom and stayed there.