Page 20 of Archer

Understanding crossed his features. “That’s why you used a fake name.”

“Partly. I also didn’t want anyone recognizing me and posting about it online. The wig helped with that.”

“It was a good wig.”

I snorted a small laugh. “I hated it.”

A smile tugged at his mouth, brief but genuine. “So what’s your schedule supposed to look like right now? Where should you be?”

“Writing.” I gestured vaguely toward the guitar in the corner. “I’m supposed to be finishing my next album. The label wants it as soon as possible so we can release in time for award season.”

“How much do you have done?”

I blinked, surprised by his question. He was here to help with security, but he chose to talk to me about my life. “Three chords and a bridge progression that goes nowhere.”

Something that looked suspiciously like sympathy flickered in his eyes. “Writer’s block?”

“More like terror block.” I leaned against the counter and sighed. “Every time I try to write, I wonder if I’m being watched. Then I wonder who’s behind this and why. What do they want to happen? What’s the goal? How does he keep finding me and what else is he planning?”

Archer cocked his head.

“I imagine it’s hard to create when you’re afraid.” He rubbed his palms together. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

I stilled. I loved a plan. And I needed this to be a good one.

“I’m going to start by securing this cottage so you feel safe here. I’ll change the locks, add cameras covering the perimeter and motion sensors to give you a better visual if someone gets close after dark. All those things should double as a strong deterrent to anyone with ill intent.”

Emotion welled in my chest. “Thank you.”

“I think it’s also a good idea for you to have a personal protection detail. You were right to ask about that earlier. The sooner the better. Due diligence,” he added, raising open palms.

I rubbed my chest, where relief from his acknowledgment warred with the fear stemming from my situation. Nice as it was to be validated in my concern, I also wished I was wrong to need a bodyguard. “What does that look like for me?” I asked.

“If you agree to the detail, you’ll be the boss, but I’d suggest you stop going out alone and consider allowing my teammate, Colton, to stay with you for the duration of your time in Carolina Bay. From there, just make sure he’s within several yards of you at all times. It’s an added deterrent to whoever’s following you, and it’s highly unlikely some knucklehead sending unwanted gifts will get past him. Colton is very good.”

A childish rush of panic lanced through me at his words. “But I don’t know Colton.”

“He’s well-trained and respected. He can keep you safe. I have no doubt.”

I stared. “Why not you?” The words sounded petulant. I didn’t care. I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands. None of this was easy for me, and I didn’t want to meet someone else, tell my story again, or start over with this process. “Why’d you even come if you weren’t the one considering the job? Why not send Colton over here to start with?”

Archer looked away, then back, jaw tensing and releasing again. “Sometimes we have to make decisions about who is best suited to individual jobs.”

“And you aren’t suited?” I scoffed. I had no idea what Colton looked like, but Archer seemed exactly like the kind of bodyguard a woman in danger ought to have. He was massive, frowny, and intimidating as hell. “Colton’s tougher than you?”

Archer’s carefully blank expression turned affronted. “Hell, no.”

“He’s quicker?” I guessed. “Smarter? If you can’t give me a reason why Colton is more qualified to protect me, then I want you. And you said I’m the boss.”

Heat flashed in his eyes.

I’d probably pissed him off, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t afford to care.

Archer rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ll like Colton.”

“Actually, maybe it’s time I head back to Nashville.” I didn’t want to go, but it wasn’t safe to stay. I wasn’t safe anywhere, and I didn’t have it in me to meet someone new. My eyes brimmed with unbidden tears as overwhelm rose through my core. “It’s been a very long few months. I thought being here would help me. I wanted to be near Gram and my memories with her, but that’s ruined now, and—” I struggled to gain a full breath. “I should just go.”

I lowered onto a chair, wishing I could throw it instead. I wasn’t safe anywhere. I’d lost my only family member, and I couldn’t even grieve properly thanks to this nut following me around the country. I couldn’t write, and I might lose the career I’d fought so long and hard to get off the ground. The dream Gram and I had shared.