Page 82 of If By Chance

“What are you not saying, Sam?” I finally ask, clearing my throat of nerves.

“I’m not comfortable that he came by your house. In his eyes, you’re getting in the way of him being with his family again.”

I swallow the bile rising in my throat.

Yep.

I definitely don’t like where this is going, and I feel like I’m narrating the start of a true-crime podcast.

“Is there someone you can stay with?”

And there it is.

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach, and I wipe my clammy hands against my thighs. But my spine turns to steal, and I curl my mouth into a shaky smile. I’ve had threats made against me before—maybe not as severe or as personal as this one—but it’s part of the job. It comes with the territory. After years in this line of work, I’ve come to expect it. I shouldn’t have to. No one should, but I can’t control it either. There are crazy people everywhere.

I wave my hand in dismissal before filing my paperwork back into their folders. I haven’t finished, but I need to focus on something other than what Sam is saying.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. But thank you.”

He takes a pleading step forward, but I refuse to look up and meet his gaze because I already know what I’ll see.

I’ll see he is right, and I don’t want him to be.

I’ll get security cameras.

Fuck.

Part two of the true-crime podcast has begun.

I don’t have another option.

Staying with Amy means putting her in danger. As for my mother, just me being there puts her in danger of alcohol poisoning.

I could suggest a hotel, but I know what Sam is saying. It’s not about where I stay. He wants me to be with someone. Strength in numbers and all that.

Sounding a little more desperate than before, Sam says, “Claire, he came to your house. What next? We need to be sure this asshole doesn’t go a step further.”

A step further?

My mouth goes dry, and I shudder. “What’s a step further?” I ask, my voice breaking under the pressure that someone could be out there doing God knows what.

“I don’t know. I just want to make sure you’re safe. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

I’m about to argue, but when I open my mouth, it snaps shut again because over Sam’s shoulder I catch sight of Jake storming into my office, eyes wild with rage.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t she be safe?” The rasp of his voice coats over me, but not with the familiar warmth I’m used to.

Fuck again.

Closing my eyes briefly, I give myself a second to gather my thoughts and steady my breathing.

“Jake,” I start, getting to my feet.

“Why aren’t you safe, Claire?” When his eyes land on me, I feel my blood pulse everywhere. His jaw twitches and molten eyes turn to nothing but steel.

He’s angry.

Not just a little inconvenienced, either. I can practically see the steam rising from his ears, and that vein in his temple is going to explode.