At her residence hall, I look around outside. Nothing unusual.
Then she takes me in and shows me where she found the purple rose. A random event is easier to figure in the dorm. All Casanova had to do was walk in during the party, wait until the hall was clear, pick the lock and walk into her room.
There’s no way to know whether he targeted her specifically that night, or if his time in her room was what triggered him to start stalking her.
If it is Casanova, he’s being more brazen than he’s ever been. In some cases, serial killers and rapists do get bolder and more reckless over time. Some even make calls or send notes to the cops and news media as a taunt. But announcing aspecifictargetbeforean attack is crazy. For all the guy knows, the whole police force could be watching Avery and waiting for him to strike. That piece of things feels off. Of course, anyone who hunts women the way he doesisoff.
He left the rose in the bed. Maybe he planned to take her that night. He could’ve planted the rose so it’d be found in the morning after she disappeared. But he wasn’t waiting in the room. Why not? Maybe because it would have been difficult to take her out of the building without being seen. Lit hallways, girls coming and going. He could have been watching her for a while and known there’s no boyfriend or roommate and that she often walks around alone.
That night, he could have planted the rose and then waited somewhere along the path. Maybe near a parking lot where he has a vehicle on nights when he takes them.
But on the night of the Beta party, Avery didn’t walk home alone. Declan was with her. Maybe Casanova planned to take Avery but changed his mind. And it was too late to get the rose back. If she’s “the one that got away” and he’s angry about that, it could be why he’s still stalking her.
Avery sits on the edge of her bed, rubbing her arms. “I don’t want to go to dinner. Can you drop me off at your place?”
“So you can stay there alone? Absolutely not.”
She looks away, biting her lip. “I’m not feeling like a night out.”
Is she serious? We’ve just taken a tour of Casanova’s greatest hits. Is she really so uncomfortable around me right now that she’d risk her life?
Her blue eyes practically bore a hole in the wall. Apparently making eye contact is also off the menu.
“If I skip dinner, it would give us both some breathing room. We could use it, don’t you think?”
“No.” I sit down next to her. “I believe you. You couldn’t see the truth.”
“Shane, I did defend you. I just wasn’t as forceful as I needed to be. I didn’t understand how things could escalate even in the absence of evidence. If I’d known—”
“Okay. That’s enough about that. Let’s talk about tonight. I’m not leaving you alone at my place or anywhere else. It’s not safe.”
Her brows pinch together, and she rubs the back of her neck, exhaling a frustrated sigh. “If you hate me so much, why are you helping me?”
I shrug, mock perplexed. “Maybe I like seeing you on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”
Avery sucks in a breath and turns her head to look at me, a spark of outrage lighting her eyes.
Good.
“Goddamnit, Shane.”
A smirk threatens, but I squash it. She’s not ready to joke yet.
“Look, I’ve said all I need to say about the past. I’ve also heard what I needed to hear from you. Let’s turn the page on that chapter and call it over.”
“Can we?” she asks hopefully.
“Yeah.”
Her fingers pick at her jeans. “We can’t start fresh if we hate each other.”
It’s the second time she’s mentioned the word hate, which tells me it’s bothering her that I used that word. She’s angling for me to take it back. I don’t want to get pulled down a rabbit hole into another deep dark conversation about feelings. Once was more than enough. But I can’t resist telling her what she seems to need to hear.
“I don’t hate you, Avery.”
Her shoulders turn toward me, and she looks relieved. “Let’s try to wipe the slate clean, all right?”
My brow cocks. “How clean?”
