Keeping Guard. Christy Barritt

Kylie.” He stepped around her, going toward the front door.

      If she didn’t need to apologize, then why did he feel so annoyed? He knew the answer. He’d already screwed up one rescue mission and he had no intention of screwing up another. But Kylie—the very person he was trying to save—could very well be his biggest obstacle also.

      Just as he reached the front door, lightning brightened the sky to purple. The flash of light illuminated a man at the restaurant’s front window. The man stood with his hands to his eyes, peering through the glass into the darkness.

      Before Nate could say a word, a splitting scream cut the air.

      FOUR

      “Harvey,” Nate mumbled, walking toward the door.

      The tall, lanky man grinned and waved from outside, clueless to how shocking it had been to see his face pressed to the glass.

      Nate unlocked the door and pushed it open. “All due respect, Harvey, but are you crazy?”

      Harvey stepped inside, shaking the rain from his coat. His miniature poodle walked in behind him and followed suit, sending water all over the entryway.

      “No, I’m not crazy. Your earlier fiasco, you know, the one where you drug me out of bed? Well, that woke up Tinkerbell and she insisted on coming outside in the rain for a little potty break. As I was walking past, I saw the light on and just wanted to make sure all was okay.”

      Nate glanced behind him at Kylie, who still stood with a ghost-white complexion. Her hands gripped the countertop, the skin tight over her knuckles. The woman was a basket case. He knew she needed to hide for a few days, that someone had threatened her. But he would need to find out more. Terrified seemed to be an understatement.

      “Harvey, wait here with Kylie for a minute, will you?” He turned to Kylie. “Kylie, let me have your car keys so I can grab your stuff.”

      She nodded, fished through her pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. She tossed them to Nate, her hands trembling. She noticed him staring and quickly stuffed her fingers into her jean pockets.

      With Kylie under Harvey’s watchful eye, Nate jogged into the rain to her car—the only one in front of his restaurant at this hour. He popped the trunk and heaved out a large—very large—suitcase. This is how the woman packed for a few days?

      He slammed the trunk closed and hauled the suitcase inside.

      Harvey and Kylie were chatting like old friends when Nate stepped back into the restaurant. Kylie’s face had lost some of its ashen appearance as she squatted, petting Tinkerbell. He noticed her hands still trembled, though.

      She stood when Nate approached and leveled her gaze with his, seeming to retrieve some of her confidence. Nate dropped the suitcase in front of her, a little harder than he intended. “Dry clothes.”

      He chose not to mention that his were now soaking wet—again. Instead, he looked at Harvey. “Why don’t you go out the back door, Harvey? You won’t get quite as wet.”

      “Sounds good.” Harvey winked at Kylie before turning to walk through the kitchen. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning!”

      “Tomorrow morning?” Nate questioned.

      “I just invited you and Kylie over for breakfast. We’ve got to get to know our new neighbor. It’s the Southern way.”

      Nate started to argue but changed his mind. “I’ll see you then, Harvey.” He opened the door for his neighbor, watched as he exited and then turned, expecting to see Kylie behind him. She was gone.

      Curiously, he wandered down the hall, through the kitchen and back into the dining area. By the front door, Kylie knelt with a roll of paper towels, wiping up the rain Harvey dripped inside.

      “You don’t have to do that, Kylie.”

      She glanced up, her face pale again. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Besides, I need to earn my keep. Call me crazy, but it’s the way I was raised.”

      He started to deny what she’d said but changed his mind. Instead, he grabbed some more paper towels and wiped at the wet footprints tracked across the floor.

      After they finished cleaning, Nate touched Kylie’s arm. She flinched.

      “Listen, I know you’re wet and tired. Will you do me a favor, though?”

      She nodded. “Of course.”

      “Go upstairs, change and then come back down here, have some coffee and tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I’m in the dark.”

      She looked numb as she said, “Okay.”

      “Let me get your suitcase upstairs for you then.”

      Dressed in dry yoga pants, a sweatshirt and slippers, Kylie crept downstairs. Her gaze darted to every dark corner. She flinched at each creak of the old wooden staircase. Her heart sped as she paused by the backdoor.

      How had her life become this? Just when she’d been doing so well, truly beginning to stand on her own feet. Then one man had decided to turn her world upside down.

      She’d fought coming here, convinced herself that going into hiding made her look weak. She wanted to stay in Kentucky and confront her faceless nightmare head on. Her brother insisted staying in Kentucky wasn’t safe. And after that last encounter with the person she called “the Man in Black,” she’d conceded—but not happily.

      She’d come to refer to him as the Man in Black because that was simply all she knew about her stalker. Not knowing what his face looked like only increased her anxiety. His eyes and features were always shadowed by that hood. He could be anyone.

      Kylie had seen him only three times. Once he’d been outside the window at her house. Another time he’d been watching in the distance as she went grocery shopping. He hadn’t gotten close to her, but she’d known it was him from the way he’d stood idly by, watching. And at her last cooking demonstration, he’d been there, at the back of the crowd. By the time she’d alerted someone, he’d disappeared, probably abandoning the sweatshirt so police couldn’t identify him.

      All she knew was that he was tall, broad-shouldered, relatively thin. On the phone, his voice sounded gravelly and low—probably disguised. In emails, he used proper English, which made Kylie think he had to be educated. On handwritten notes, his writing appeared calm, controlled—like he knew just what he was doing.

      Kylie shuddered.

      She’d been over a list of suspects with the police, but the list seemed so ambiguous. There was the fan who constantly left aggressive messages on the public online forum to her cooking show. Of course, the police could never trace the address, as the man seemed to use computers at various places around town, all without security cameras. However, the stalker could be someone who’d given no clue to his identity—someone who’d watched her show and developed an obsession, someone who’d seen her shopping and she’d caught his eye. He could be a friend, a neighbor, an ex-boyfriend.

      At the thought of an ex-boyfriend, Kylie squeezed her eyes closed. Colin was far too sophisticated and cultured to pull off a stunt like this. Besides, he’d avoided her since they broke up. Why would he avoid her in general and stalk her at every other time? Sure, he’d been controlling, but he would never go this far.

      Would he?

      They’d dated for a year before Kylie finally had the sense to break up with him. He was the president of a local advertising agency. She’d catered an event at his office and he’d immediately taken an interest in her. She’d been flattered and, initially, swept off her feet. His strength and advice had been comforting in the beginning. But as she got to know him, she realized that the more they were together, the more she was losing herself.

      Slowly, he’d begun to isolate her from her friends and family. He’d begun to critique everything she did. He’d begun giving career advice and calling