I pulled my phone from the pocket of my scrubs and searched for the non-emergency number to the sheriff’s office. As I dialed, I asked, “Who could hate me this much?”
A lump formed in my throat. I tried to be a good person. I tried to help people. I filled in as much as I could at the hospital. I was never cruel if I could help it, not even when Delilah and Chelsea pushed me to my limits.
Unease accompanied another shiver up my spine as I thought of the dark-clad figure who’d smashed my windshield. It hadn’t seemed like Delilah, and yet, it could have been her. She was taller than me and shorter than Beckett. But like Beckett had said, it had been hard to distinguish anything about the person in an oversized hoodie.
What I’d told Beckett at the house still rang true. The whole thing felt immature, ridiculously childish. Someone trapped in their teen years…or an actual teenager. And I didn’t personally know a single teenager.
But the pattern of escalation made it impossible to ignore. A taped note on a car was nothing compared to a shattered windshield. And the timing—God, the timing—felt deliberate. The closer Beckettand I drifted toward turning our fake engagement into something real, the more unhinged this person’s reaction became.
Except, how could they possibly know?
Aside from that one kiss at the firehouse, Beckett and I hadn’t really been seen together in public.
My mind flicked to our tangled bodies in the lake, the almost-kiss in Dad’s backyard.
I shook my head hard. No one should have seen those. No one could have, unless…
A cold shiver coasted up my spine.
Unless someone had been watching us.
Watching me.
Acid churned through my stomach.
I might be willing to risk my heart for a few stolen, breathtaking moments with Beckett, but would I risk my life?
Beckett’s life?
My dad’s?
The thought landed like a fist—sudden, brutal, and terrifyingly real.
Chapter Twenty-one
Beckett
CRAZY ’BOUT YOU
Performed by Kelsey Hart
FOUR YEARS AGO
HER: Tight dress with no cleavage, or loose and flirty with a deep V?
HIM: I have all sorts of images in my head now that aren’t going to help me with the training I’m doing in fifteen minutes. So thanks for that.
HER: *** crying laughing emoji *** Just answer the question.
HIM: What is this for? And who are you going with?
HER: Holiday party at the hospital. And no one.
HIM: Might I suggest a boxy sweater and baggy pants?
HER: Oh, yes. Why didn’t I think of that? Maybe because I’d LIKE to end the evening with a date? Or the hope of a date.
HIM: Bad idea, Maise. If you fall for someone in Bakersfield, you’ll never move home to Rivers. Remember your endgame. Wait until you’re home to fall in love.