“Move it, Mayson. We’ll take your car.” I sprinted out of the room after her, ignoring Tom’s startled expression. I ran to the elevator, Daria already there, holding it open.

“How do you know she’s there?”

Daria rolled her eyes. “Cameras, obviously. Don’t be a dumbass.” She pulled up the video feed of Andrea Esperanza at Nova’s door. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Andrea was waving her hands about.

Then Nova let her inside.

The place where Huey was sleeping.

I hadn’t told Nova of my suspicions about Andrea, because I couldn’t prove anything; all I had was a gut feeling. I was such a fucking idiot. The woman that River loved, that he’d very publicly claimed, had just invited his stalker into her home.

“Fuck! I’m calling 911.”

“I’ll call Xander. We’ll see who gets there first.” I didn’t care who got there first, as long as my woman wasn’t alone with that psycho. My heart thrummed, and the minutes seemed to drag, even though I was going over the speed limit. At this point, I didn’t even care if we got pulled over by the cops. I’d just lead them right to Nova’s doorstep and pray we weren’t too late.

Chapter Forty-Five

NOVA

I had that one client who was always a disorganized mess. Every year, she posted me a box of her receipts and twelve months of bank statements, and told me to work it out. I always did, because she didn’t kick up a fuss about my fee and she always paid promptly. Plus, she was lovely. Disorganized chaos, but lovely.

Someone knocked on the door, and I pushed back from the desk. Casting a look over at Huey, I saw he was out for the count. Milk drunk. His little lip moved, and honestly, I was head over heels in love with that kid.

The person at the door knocked again, and I hurried from the living room, shutting the door so whoever it was didn’t wake him. I cast a quick look around, happy to see that my house didn’t look too much like it had been tossed by ninjas.

Wrenching the door open, I was surprised to see Andrea Esperanza. “If you want an exclusive comment, I promise you that you won’t like what I have to say,” I hissed at her.

Andrea rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m a serious sports journalist. I don’t give a fuck who’s sticking their dick in you.”

Yeah, sure bitch. “What can I do for you then?”