Page 73 of Blue Norther
Book after book with her name and mine on the spine.CallieFord. A play on the name I always loved and cherished, that I kissed across her body so many times it was branded on my heart, too. And the one she never let a single one of our friends or family call her.
“I thought you hated that name.” I smiled as I pulled the first book off the shelf. Fuck. I’d had these words memorized from the first time I read them. My eyes dropped to the pages as I flipped through all the annotations and highlights. Where the hell was that scene…
“I hate Calliope. You know I couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. The only person who ever called me that name and made me want to love it was you. Hayes told me you read them, but you even have my special editions?” She gasped. “You have a copy of my book box collab?”
I nodded. “Why did you use that name, Vi?”
She stared at me for a moment before shrugging her shoulders.
“Out in the publishing world, being Callie Ford, it’s always been my armor. It was a way I could still be protected by you.” Her whispered words warmed my tight chest. “What does this have to do with him, though?”
I smiled. “I thought something about all of this was familiar. Just chalked it up to another case I was maybe involved with in the past. But that email he sent today, I think that’s going to be his undoing.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t recognize the words?”
“No. Not at all.”
“You wrote them,” I said.
“No, I didn’t…”
“The proclamation of love? He’s taken that fromA Love to End Them All, and put your name in there. And the way he’s only ever written that you're his? What if that is supposed to reflect the way your heroes are always so protective and possessive?”
“Ew. I wrote the words he’s been torturing me with?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I think he’s using your stories as a blueprint to get you to want to be with him.”
A shiver rolled through her body. “I’m never writing again.”
“No, Vi. This is good. We can cross reference everything he’s sent so far. If things line up, we might be able to see where the hell this is going. We might be able to catch him before his next move.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I think we finally have the upper hand.”
I had clearly gotten ahead of myself. My theory was proving right, but the time it was taking Violet and myself to try and decipher a pattern to this lunatic’s madness was taking its toll.
Violet had been shifting more and more in her chair the last hour. I watched several times where her hand slid to her belly for a moment and she held her breath, only to groan slightly or close her eyes before returning to whichever book she was looking through.
I didn’t know if they were just Braxton Hicks or real contractions, but I was timing the hell out of them.
“I think I need a break,” she said as she pushed off the chair.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just…this is a lot. Maybe we could go decide what we’re doing with the storage room. I’d like to focus on something happy for a bit.”
“Okay.” I grabbed her hand and brought her down the hallway, past our bedroom, and to the room at the end of the hall. I took a big breath, and opened the door.
Violet was silent as she walked in, her head scanning the clean and cleared out space. The crib she’d picked out almost a decade ago, but never watched me assemble, was sitting in the corner, a precious horse and cowboy hat mobile gently swaying. I asked my mom years ago for my grandmother’s rocking chair. She never asked me why I wanted it, just simply patted my shoulder and told me I could have it. It sat in another corner with a table and lamp, perfect for midnight feedings.
“Colt?”Shit. Her voice cracked. I moved quickly, walking until I could see her face. Silent tears tracked down past her jaw. I’d messed up.
“I’m so sorry, Vi. I should have told you…”
“When did you do all this? Did I sleep through you putting this room together?”
“No. It’s been like this for years.”
“Years?”
