My stomach twists at the way he says it.
It’s one thing to feel the dread in your veins, knowing some unhinged creep is out there, fantasizing about putting his sleazy hands on her.
But hearing him talk like this, face to face?
Hearing that obsession when he says her name?
That’s something else entirely.
Still, I have to push the revulsion down.
Right now, for Sabine’s sake, I need to stay focused.
“But it’s not my first rodeo,” he goes on, his nod turning into a self-satisfied smirk like he’s replaying some fond memory. “I’ve done this for a while. I know how to get around watchdogs like you.”
“Yeah?” I say, curling my fists under the restraints, pressing my nails into my palms. I don’t care about the pain. I welcome it. It’s the only thing keeping me grounded.
“And how’d you pull it off, then?”
He laughs. Full-on laughs.
“My, let me tell you. It’s nice, actually, having someone curious about my process. The other girls were just as captivating as your sister. Some even had brothers or fathers trying to protect them. But none of them ever made it down here. There’s something different about your family, I guess.”
Oh, fucking hell.
“Just spit it out,” I snap. I can’t help it.
He pauses. Raises an eyebrow like my tone is some petty offense he’s willing to forgive. I can feel the condescension settle between us.
“Your gut about Eli was right,” he says, and the sickness in my stomach spreads up through my chest, into my throat, across my temples, until my whole body is pulsing with it.
“What?”
“You heard me. Eli,” he repeats, casually. “That first time you saw him outside your house? He was telling the truth. He was waiting to drive Sabine to work. But that day you let him in? That was the first time he’d ever actually been inside.”
I breathe in through my nose. Exhale. Breathe in again.
“You watched him closely that day,” he continues. “And you did well. If you’d kept that up, you would’ve made my job a lot harder. But the friendlier he and Sabine got, the more she let him in, the less she wanted your help. Obsessions are like parasites, my friend. As long as you keep them to yourself and stay in control, you thrive. You make all the right moves. You get what you're after. But the moment you share that obsession, the moment someone else’s opinion starts to matter—”
He clicks his tongue. “You’re finished. That’s what happened to you. You were sharp. Careful. Then I made Sabine feel safe again. She started trusting my absence. Started influencing you.”
“Eli works for you?” I ask. It’s obvious, but I need to hear it. My brain can’t keep up. The logical part is lagging behind, like it’s been shoved aside.
“Oh yes,” he says. “For quite a while now. And before you start beating yourself up for not noticing sooner, let me finish. Anyone in your situation would get tired of constant surveillance. And having another man around who could carry some of that weight? Of course you let go a little. Not your fault.When Eli started showing up more often, you gave him some slack. You stopped following him all the way to his car. Stopped checking if he circled the block or lingered near the side yard before leaving.”
My blood runs cold.
Because he’s right.
I remember the shift perfectly.
I remember Eli waving as he walked out, saying something casual and forgettable.
I remember the part of me that wanted to believe she was safe, because she believed it.
Just for a moment.
But that was enough.
