“It doesn’t sound stupid at all. I can always tell when you’re close by, too. Shit, you wrote off the danger because of me.”
“To be fair, even if it weren’t you, I’d have assumed it was. Plus, we women have a way of downplaying danger as paranoia because there are many times in our lives when we were just paranoid and felt stupid that we overreacted. Then later down the line, we remember the embarrassment we felt when we got it wrong, and we stop listening to our instincts so we don’t become a nuisance. Why do we do that? Who cares if we get it wrong six out of seven times? Especially if that seventh time is the difference between being raped or murdered, you know?”
“Legs,” I say softly, stopping her before she starts berating herself.
“I knew someone had been in my apartment, but I wrote it off as paranoia,” she admits. I grit my teeth so hard I hear my jaw crack.
“There was nothing really wrong, just a cup in the sink that shouldn’t have been there, and a feeling of wrongness.”
“Nothing that the police could use, and you didn’t feel comfortable calling the MC because of me.” I let go of her hands and grip my hair.
“I ignored it because I felt stupid. Then my underwear went missing, and I thought it was the guy from next door getting me back somehow. When my basket of clean washing was put outside my door, I thought it was him.” She shook her head.
“That was me. I followed you up and down, not liking you being in the basement alone when it was late. That’s when I took your thong,” I admit.
“So while you were watching me, someone was watching you and taking advantage of the openings you created.”
I grip the table, feeling like destroying the room.
“Don’t,” she says, knowing my turmoil. “Maybe you being there made things easier for them, but it also made it harder for him to get to me. Mostly.”
I cock my head. Waiting for her to explain. She bites her lip.
“How often did you watch me sleep?”
“A couple of times a week. Mostly, it was enough being next door.”
She smirks. “You killed a guy and moved into his apartment? I don’t even know what to say to that.”
I shrug. “While I was acting president, I spent more time at the clubhouse and got one of the prospects to help me clean this place up.”
“I’m guessing this other guy was watching you and knew that, which is how they were able to set up the wall of photos.”
“They probably thought they would set me up and get rid of me, leaving the path open to you.”
“Maybe. But why not just strike while they had the chance?”
“Perhaps the chance never came.”
She looks at me, and something in her gaze makes my eyes narrow. “Did you get to see many of the photos?”
“Not before the cops got there. I know they were all of you, though.”
“I knew it wasn’t my neighbor because he’s in the background of one of the photos. I wonder if that was intentional so that the police might ask questions. Could this stalker know you killed my neighbor?”
“I want to say no, but I never saw anyone following me, not even once.”
“Shit. You need to warn the MC.”
I swallow and nod. “I’ll let Havoc know after this.”
“There’s something else you need to know. One of those photos was taken of me sleeping in bed.”
I shake my head. “They copied me and used my spot on the fire escape.”
“No. The photo was taken from inside my room.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when I lose my ever-loving mind.
