“Thanks, Troy.”
He smiles softly, and I rub Trip’s small hand as we pull into Tag’s oversized house that feels less like home with every passing second.
“Do you need anything?” he asks kindly as several security guards walk toward us.
“No, thank you. You can tell Mr. Masters he can wake me up when he gets here. I’ll let him have the night alone with his son.”
I’m sure as hell not sleeping with him tonight.
“Will do, ma’am.”
I climb free from the car, and I head inside, praying to fall right to sleep without dreaming about Tag and that stupid, filthy blond.
“Hey, baby,” I murmur to the sweet boy in my arms who is clinging to me with his tiny fingers.
They open the doors for me, and I smile as Trip coos in his sleep. To him, this is home, but to me, this is hell. Here, his daddy loves him. Here, his daddy loves making me cry.
Why am I putting myself through this? Tag has money, but it’s not like he can buy sole custody. If anything, he’ll get joint custody, and he’ll see his son as much as I see him without us living together.
Melanie's house is just as well fortified as his. I don’t care what he says about gaps. I can stay there until my stalker, is found instead of killing myself daily.
“Ms, Branderwood, we’ll be outside if you need anything.”
“Thanks, guys.”
They never sleep. I swear Tag has vampires working for him.
After placing Trip in his crib, I slip out of my dress and toss it into my room before pulling out a set of pajamas to wear to bed. Trip gurgles slightly, and I grin as I pick up the monitor and turn it on before heading into the kitchen.
Now that I’ve sobered up, I’m actually a little hungry. Maybe my anger will help bring back my appetite, now that I’m done feeling guilty.
I tilt my head as I see the back door has been left unlocked. I quickly lock it before punching in the security code. Usually the guys sweep the house to make sure everything is locked up tight before the sun goes down.
I shake off the eerie feeling, and then I head back to the fridge to pull out the makings for a salad. I’ll start light since I’ve barely eaten in three days. I swear I’ve developed an ulcer thanks to Tag’s cold treatment.
I’ll calm down before I talk to him about moving out and custody disputes. Right now, I don’t have the energy. I’m sure he’ll screw everyone at the damn party now that I’m gone.
My phone has at least fifteen missed calls, but I roll my eyes and put it down. Then it buzzes, and I look down to see it’s him. I quickly ignore the call, and then it buzzes again. This time, it’s Wren. Against my better judgment, I answer.
“Hey, Wren. You can tell him we’re at his house, and Trip is fine.”
“Ash, he’s on his way there now. He got a call saying you’d be dead before he got home. We can’t reach the security guards. I’ve already called the cops. Get the hell out of there now!”
A chill spreads over me, and then I feel the sharp, piercing pain as something slices through my back. I cry out, and I hear Wren screaming as my cries find their way to the phone.
I hear the alarm sounding as the door breaks open, and a flash of blond as my attacker is forced to retreat.
“Ash!” Tag yells as it all fades to black.
Chapter Thirteen
No Name to the Stalker
Tag
“It’s fortunate she had the driver detour. The suspect apparently knew when she left, and he expected her home sooner or he wouldn’t have called you to gloat so early on,” the detective sighs.
“Why did they detour?”