Chapter 133

Fiona

One of my favorite songs plays softly through the small speakers on my desk computer, and I hum along, bobbing my head to the beat. I type out an email to the newest company wanting to meet and pitch an idea to Ethan. I send them our usual, general terms and conditions as well as the specific terms for partnership.

I’ve typed this same email out so many times that I could probably do it in my sleep. One of two things usually happen next. Either the company will respond back that they’re willing to accept the terms to meet, or they never reply, finding our terms too strict.

After I hit send, I peek at the clock, noting that Ethan’s next meeting is only an hour away and that I should get his materials together.

Just as I put the last papers into the folder, the elevator dings. A nervous shiver runs down my spine as my eyes land on Patrice. She hesitantly steps off the elevator, a package in her hands. This time, she doesn’t have her cart with her, and for some reason, that makes me more nervous.

“Another one,” she says with a shaky voice.

Jumping up, I rush over to Ethan’s office door. I don’t bother knocking; instead, I push my way in and point behind me.

“Patrice brought another package,” I announce. Ethan is out of his seat and at my side before I can take two breaths. His hand circles my wrist, gripping me tightly enough to let me know he doesn’t like the situation but not tight enough to hurt.

I sink into him, not wanting to take the ‘gift’ when Patrice holds it out. Ethan takes it, and we make our way back into the office and over to his desk.

“Was there anything else?” Ethan asks Patrice.

“No, sir. Just this. No note or message, just like the other times,” she answers. Ethan nods in acceptance before picking up his phone and hitting a number.

“Come to my office now,” Ethan orders before hanging up. I glance up at him curiously, wondering who he wanted to join us.

“Ryan,” he reveals, answering my silent question.

Nodding, I watch as he turns toward the package, saying, “I’ll open it.”

“But…”

“It’s okay,” he says, squeezing my arm. “Whatever is in here won’t hurt you. Just step back.”

“What if it hurts you?” I ask. Of course, we don’t know what’s in the box. It could be something like the previous items, or it could be worse. There’s no telling because we don’t know where they’re coming from, but each gift so far has been more and more concerning even if they weren’t threatening.

Ethan leans in, his lips brushing my ear, as he whispers, “I’ll heal.”

The reminder calms my nerves but doesn’t fully get rid of them. I don’t think anything will, actually, until I see what’s inside, and even then, I’m not sure if they’ll disappear.

So, all I can do is watch over Ethan’s shoulder as he tears the colorful paper off of the box. My fingers tangle in the hem of his jacket, gripping it tightly as the lid comes off.

Before I can see what is in the box, Ethan shifts into my line of vision, and a growl rumbles from his chest.

“Oh, my…” Patrice’s words fade away but her wide eyes stay and nearly pop out of her head.

“What is it?”

“Stay behind me, Fiona,” Ethan orders. The sharp tone makes me want to obey, but my curiosity gets the better of me, and I duck beneath his arm. I shouldn’t have. I should have listened and not looked into the box, because the moment I do, bile climbs up my throat.

Several pictures lay in the box, and every single one features me. Me walking down the street. Me leaving a store. Me talking to Ethan in the car.

Every picture is from far away, but clearly tell me that this person knows exactly where I am at any point in time.

“They’ve been following me,” I mutter, reaching for a particular picture of me. I don’t have a shirt on in this picture, and there’s a window frame framing me. The purple curtains show that it was taken while I was in Isla’s house at some point.

My nerves ramp up, jumbling in my stomach, climbing up my throat, and blocking my airway as Ethan sets the package on his desk.

Who is doing this?

Why are they doing this?

The images taunt me, calling my anxiety forward until I’m gasping for breath.

“Fiona, breathe,” Ethan says, grabbing my face. Black spots swirl in my vison, and a cold sensation zings across my skin.

My ears ring.

My chest tightens.

“I… c-cant.”

“You can, and you will, Fiona. Just focus on me.”

His voice sounds far away, yet when I open my eyes, he’s right in front of me. He inhales exaggeratedly then exhales, lifting and lowering his hand with the breathing.

“In and out, Fiona. Come on,” he whispers.

“In.”

We breathe in, and a pain tightens my chest.

“Out.”

We breathe out.

“In and out,” he continues softly until our breaths are synced and the knot in my chest subsides, falling away as my body relaxes into Ethan’s hold. “You’re okay,” he whispers. “Whoever is doing this won’t get away with scaring you.”

I nod, burying my face in his chest and soaking in the warmth radiating off his body.

“I’m so sorry,” Patrice says, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to make her… I just…”

“It’s alright, Patrice,” Ethan says with a rumble. The soft vibration offering more comfort than it probably should. “Where did you find this one?”

She twists her hands together in front of her and explains, “I didn’t see it this morning, which is why I’m only bringing it now. I moved a larger delivery about twenty minutes ago and found this one underneath. I remembered you wanted me to bring it straight to you, so I did.”

“Thank you, Patrice. You can go back to work,” Ethan says, and she glances at me, whispering her apology one more time before leaving.

Ryan appears a few moments later, his eyes zeroing in on the box of stalker evidence that Ethan is already taking pictures of. He stands between me and the box, keeping me from seeing the pictures while he updates Ryan on what’s happening.

“I need you to investigate this,” he tells Ryan as he slides his phone into his pocket again. “I just sent you pictures of each package she’s received and their contents. Before we realized what was happening, we threw some of the ‘gifts’ away, but I have pictures and then I have the notes that were included and what was sent today.”

“Of course, Alpha,” Ryan says with a slight bow. Then, he turns to me and offers a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Luna. We’ll figure out who is doing this and take care of it,” he promises.