Chapter 18 Lines Crossed

• The sun had barely crested the skyline when Regan slipped into his car, jaw tight, eyes alert. He had a plan. The unsettling texts Zara kept receiving had gnawed at him for too long. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, the idea of someone lurking in the shadows, tormenting her, stirred something deep within him. Not love. No. Just responsibility, perhaps. Or irritation. He wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing—he needed answers.
• He arrived at the quiet café where he’d arranged to meet the same man he had messaged days ago—the one he’d asked to keep an eye on Zara. The guy was already there, in a booth at the far end, nursing a mug of coffee and tapping his foot to an inaudible rhythm. He looked up when Regan entered, eyes sharp behind rectangular glasses.
• “You said you had something,” Regan said, sliding into the booth opposite him.