Read Online Courting Trouble (Reality Romance Book 5) by Lizzie Shane - Free Book Online
Authors: Lizzie Shane
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explanations—change in building policy, misdirected mail, neighborly complaint, invitation to a roof party. It wasn’t until she got closer that she could read the writing on the front.
The big block letters. The bright red pen. The pair of words slashed across the front of the envelope that stopped her in her tracks.
DIE WHORE.
Chapter Seven
He’d hoped Elena would call, but not like this.
Adam hadn’t planned to spend his afternoon off hauling ass down the freeway, his hands tight on the steering wheel and his heart in his throat as he remembered how shaken she’d sounded. Turns out I could use a bodyguard after all. Someone was in my building. They got inside .
He took the exit ramp too fast, weaving his Jeep through traffic and accelerating through a yellow light. How long had she been being harassed? Was it just notes or was there more to the stalking? He told himself he was only concerned because he felt a sense of responsibility for her after Saturday night, but he was more worried about her than he had any right to be.
He got to her apartment building in half the time it should have taken him and lucked into a parking space less than a block away. Elena waited on the sidewalk outside, a re-useable canvas grocery bag slung over the same shoulder as her purse, making her look lopsided. He took in the cap and sunglasses as well as the flip-flops, snug jeans, and half-zipped hoodie over a plain white tank top. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle and she was pacing—two steps north, two steps south—until she caught sight of him and moved to meet him halfway.
“I didn’t know who to call,” she said, apology dusting the words.
“Are you okay?” He hated how often he seemed to have to ask her that question.
“I didn’t touch anything,” she said, instead of answering. “You aren’t supposed to touch anything, right? In case there are fingerprints?”
He nodded, even though forensics had never been his specialty. “Show me.”
She waved him toward her building. “I couldn’t wait inside,” she said as he watched her unlock the exterior door.
He studied the security, realizing it was fairly decent. A CCTV camera was aimed at the door, which had reasonably new looking locks.
“I couldn’t have been gone more than an hour,” she said as she led the way to the elevator. “Just to the grocery and back. Do you think they were watching me? Did they know when I left?” She didn’t seem to expect an answer, which was good because all he had was directionless anger at the bastard who’d frightened her.
The elevator opened and she preceded him inside, hitting the button for three. The building was five floors, with a handful of apartments on each floor. Not big enough or ritzy enough for a doorman, but the kind of place a single woman shouldn’t have to worry about feeling safe.
“I’m used to getting them online,” she said, speaking more to herself than to him, as she had been since he arrived. “The insults, the threats…”
“ Jesus ,” Adam mumbled, appalled by her reality.
“But this is different,” she went on, as the elevator doors opened. “Someone was here. Where I live.”
She waved toward a door with an envelope taped at eye level. He read the words scrawled there and the buzz of worry for her in the back of his brain escalated to full on rage. His hands fisted, but there was no one to punch.
“You need to call the police.”
“I can’t,” Elena protested. “It’ll get out. The press. They’ll spin it. Total fiasco.”
“Fuck the press. This is your safety.”
But she was shaking her head.
“Elena…”
“Don’t you know anyone? You do all that bodyguard stuff. Don’t your clients have problems like this? Problems they want handled quietly? This is what you do, isn’t it? This sort of thing… it’s normal for Hollywood, right?”
He wanted to argue that stalkers shouldn’t be normal for anyone, but he forced himself
The big block letters. The bright red pen. The pair of words slashed across the front of the envelope that stopped her in her tracks.
DIE WHORE.
Chapter Seven
He’d hoped Elena would call, but not like this.
Adam hadn’t planned to spend his afternoon off hauling ass down the freeway, his hands tight on the steering wheel and his heart in his throat as he remembered how shaken she’d sounded. Turns out I could use a bodyguard after all. Someone was in my building. They got inside .
He took the exit ramp too fast, weaving his Jeep through traffic and accelerating through a yellow light. How long had she been being harassed? Was it just notes or was there more to the stalking? He told himself he was only concerned because he felt a sense of responsibility for her after Saturday night, but he was more worried about her than he had any right to be.
He got to her apartment building in half the time it should have taken him and lucked into a parking space less than a block away. Elena waited on the sidewalk outside, a re-useable canvas grocery bag slung over the same shoulder as her purse, making her look lopsided. He took in the cap and sunglasses as well as the flip-flops, snug jeans, and half-zipped hoodie over a plain white tank top. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle and she was pacing—two steps north, two steps south—until she caught sight of him and moved to meet him halfway.
“I didn’t know who to call,” she said, apology dusting the words.
“Are you okay?” He hated how often he seemed to have to ask her that question.
“I didn’t touch anything,” she said, instead of answering. “You aren’t supposed to touch anything, right? In case there are fingerprints?”
He nodded, even though forensics had never been his specialty. “Show me.”
She waved him toward her building. “I couldn’t wait inside,” she said as he watched her unlock the exterior door.
He studied the security, realizing it was fairly decent. A CCTV camera was aimed at the door, which had reasonably new looking locks.
“I couldn’t have been gone more than an hour,” she said as she led the way to the elevator. “Just to the grocery and back. Do you think they were watching me? Did they know when I left?” She didn’t seem to expect an answer, which was good because all he had was directionless anger at the bastard who’d frightened her.
The elevator opened and she preceded him inside, hitting the button for three. The building was five floors, with a handful of apartments on each floor. Not big enough or ritzy enough for a doorman, but the kind of place a single woman shouldn’t have to worry about feeling safe.
“I’m used to getting them online,” she said, speaking more to herself than to him, as she had been since he arrived. “The insults, the threats…”
“ Jesus ,” Adam mumbled, appalled by her reality.
“But this is different,” she went on, as the elevator doors opened. “Someone was here. Where I live.”
She waved toward a door with an envelope taped at eye level. He read the words scrawled there and the buzz of worry for her in the back of his brain escalated to full on rage. His hands fisted, but there was no one to punch.
“You need to call the police.”
“I can’t,” Elena protested. “It’ll get out. The press. They’ll spin it. Total fiasco.”
“Fuck the press. This is your safety.”
But she was shaking her head.
“Elena…”
“Don’t you know anyone? You do all that bodyguard stuff. Don’t your clients have problems like this? Problems they want handled quietly? This is what you do, isn’t it? This sort of thing… it’s normal for Hollywood, right?”
He wanted to argue that stalkers shouldn’t be normal for anyone, but he forced himself
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