First message
The rain-slicked streets gleamed under sodium lamps as Jax pushed open the coffee shop door, seeking nothing more than black coffee to cut through another sleepless night. Two tours had left him hollow—until she walked in.
She shook rain from her hair, laughing softly at her phone, cream sweater slipping off one shoulder. Their eyes met for a heartbeat. That was enough. He returned her forgotten umbrella outside with a quiet smile. Ex-military, he said. She thanked him warmly, and his world narrowed to her.
Now, weeks later, Jax sat in the shadowed cab of his truck across from her building, red dashboard lights painting his face like old combat glow. Night-vision binoculars on the dash. He watched her through the window—curled on the couch, unaware, safe.
He hadn’t meant for it to go this far. Just checking. Protecting. But every glimpse fed the obsession. She was light in his darkness, and the soldier who once hunted threats now stalked the only thing that mattered.
Soon, she would feel him in the shadows. And there would be no escape.