But Lucky simply arched a cocky brow and shrugged. “We can’t protect you if you keep stuff from us.”
“I’m not—” she stopped the lie short.
For five years, she’d lied. Mostly by omission, but still. Very few people knew the whole truth about what happened after that day in court. Even Cassie didn’t know everything.
But Lucky was right. Regardless of who’d tried to kill her yesterday, the fact was someone had. And if there was anything she’d learned in the several months, it was that the men in this room were the best at what they did.
You know you can trust them. You know you can.
“You’re right.” Ellie looked to Lucky and then the others. “There’s more. But before I go into everything, I’d like to reiterate that, regardless of what I’m about to tell you, I stand by my opinion that George Ray Harvey is not the one who tried to shoot me.”
“Duly noted.” Lucky crossed his arms at his chest and dipped his chin.
Apparently, that was her cue to start talking.
She scooted herself closer to the table. With her hands linked together in front of her, she drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and—for the first time in five years—she shared the entirety of what she’d been forced to endure.
“After Harvey killed his attorney, the guard, and the judge, he came after me. I used my briefcase to knock the gun from his hand, but he tackled me and tried choking me to death.”
Ellie paused to swallow, resisting the urge to bring her fingers to her throat. Even now, after all this time, she could almost feel his hands as they’d damn near squeezed the life from her body.
“Thankfully, he was taken back into custody and hauled away before that could happen,” she continued. “That’s, uh…that’s the part that made the news.”
“What else did that bastard do to you?” Lucky growled.
When Ellie looked back at him, her breath nearly caught inside her chest. His arms were still crossed at his chest, and the man wasn’t even bothering to hide his anger toward Harvey, now.
“He stalked me. Or rather, he had someone else do the stalking for him since, until recently, he’s been in prison.”
“Stalked you how?” Van rumbled low.
She met the man’s dark stare. “I’d find notes on my car or my mailbox. Ones almost identical to those Harvey left for the four women he murdered.” A shiver raced down her spine from the memory.
“What did the notes say?” Logan asked next.
“The usual threats. He’d tell me he’s been watching me. He’d comment on something I’d worn the day before. Then he’d leave a picture of me in that same outfit, just so I’d know whoever had taken it was close by.” She huffed out a humorless breath. “Asshole even slashed my tires…twice. And then, the phone callsstarted shortly after. The caller never said anything. They’d just sit there in silence.”
“The prison let that son of a bitch call you?” Lucky dropped his fisted hands to his sides and scowled. “How the hell is something like that even allowed?”
“It wasn’t Harvey.” She shook her head at the decidedly angry man. “Phone calls to and from inmates are always monitored and recorded. And even if he paid off one of the guards, the phone calls came at all hours of the day. So unless he had the entire prison staff in his pocket—”
“Then it stands to reason the person stalking you was the same one making the calls,” Chase finished the thought.
“Psychological terror,” Van murmured.
Ellie looked at him and nodded. “Exactly.”
“Jesus.” Lucky ran a hand over his jaw. “And the cops?” He swung his focus back to her. “They ever catch the stalker?”
“No.” Yet another shake of her head. “They assigned a protection detail to follow me around for a few days, but that was it.”
“Only a few days?” Archer frowned. “Why not longer?”
Her shoulder lifted and fell with a shrug. “Low manpower, not enough money in the budget…they got bored…take your pick. But here’s the thing…” She leaned forward just a tad. “Even after the police presence vanished, the stalker never came back.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the letters and pictures…the harassing phone calls…it all just…stopped.”