Blake was typing furiously. I didn’t dare ask, but I had a sinking feeling that being targeted wasn’t random anymore. I shuffled back to the coffee maker, filled a mug, and took it to him. He took it wordlessly, working as if I wasn’t there. I stared patiently waiting for him to come back to me.
“Can you tell me what’s going on? For real this time?” I said, my voice quiet.
He looked up at me, his eyes tired.
“The photo of us at the conference. It went viral. You probably saw a spike in traffic. Most of that was legit, but they took notice.”
“They?”
He hesitated.
“So this isn’t random.”
“Not anymore,” he said, his eyes dark with regret.
“Why are they after you, Blake?”
He shook his head and raked his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Erica, but I’m going to fix this. I promise.”
I nodded, trusting he would.