I looked away from the mirror and down at my lap. “Blair came to have lunch with me a couple of times at the college. I didn’t think anything of it—didn’t put everything together until it was too late.” I gritted my teeth, spitting out the next words. “I didn’t see it.”
The bed moved again, and I felt the heat of Quinn’s body at my back. “What didn’t you see?” she asked quietly.
My eyes bounced back up to the mirror and met hers. She was looking into it from over my shoulder, her face mostly composed besides the slight crease on her forehead.
“I had spent years at this point working with violent offenders, making psychological and competency assessments. I thought that I was well acquainted with the criminal mind. What I hadn’t prepared myself for was coming face-to-face with it in everyday life.”
My hands shook, and I pressed them against my thighs to still them. “I was prepared in the prison or the hospital. Not in my classroom.”
Quinn’s lips drained of color as she gaped in shock. She was smart, putting the pieces together.
“My attentive student wasn’t interested in my class at all. At least, not in the way I had assumed. He was only interested because he was looking for some insight about himself. Maybe picking up a few pointers here and there as we studied other offenders and their crimes.
“I didn’t realize that he started approaching me more often after the first time Blair came to have lunch with me. We had gotten so familiar with each other that I didn’t find it off when he’d ask small things about my personal life—what I’d done over the weekend or recommendations for good restaurants to take a date. It was little things that seemed normal, but he was fishing for information. He eventually found out where I lived, and he stalked Blair for weeks. He knew her patterns, her schedule. He knew when she would be alone and vulnerable.”
A sharp intake of breath came from behind me. I watched Quinn’s composure crumple into utter horror through her reflection.
“He killed her?”
I held her gaze like she was the only thing grounding me. “He murdered her on her morning jog. But she fought him. His DNA was all over her.”
There was a long, agonized pause.
“I’m so sorry, Graham,” she finally said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I stiffened at her touch—not because I didn’t want it, but because I felt too on edge. My skin was prickly and oversensitive and everything was suddenly too much.
My chest expanded as I attempted a deep, calming breath that did nothing to slow my frantic heart.
My gaze was still locked on hers in the mirror. “So,” I went on, my voice shaking, “when I tell you that I care about you, youshould believe it. Because I didn’t want to. The last thing that I wanted was to care this much about another person…because I know too well how much it hurts when they are ripped away from you.”
Some color returned to her cheeks as she swallowed, her throat dipping. Her mouth opened like she was going to say something else, but I didn’t want to talk anymore. And I was suddenly exhausted.
I jumped to my feet, pulling away from her warm hand. Part of me was afraid that if I didn’t physically distance myself now, I wouldn’t be able to keep away. I turned toward the door.
“I’m sorry if I didn’t want to see you get hurt if I could prevent it.” I walked toward the door, needing to be alone. I paused at the threshold. “Good night, Quinn.”
She didn’t stop me as I left the room and closed the door behind me.
21
Quinn
Someonewasscreaming.
I wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but it felt like everywhere. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. Something was pressed against me, crushing me against the mattress. His smell smothered me, choking me.
The screaming intensified.
My throat burned.
I was certain that I was dying, suffocating until there was nothing left of me.
But then there was a voice I recognized. A familiar voice that soothed my soul.
The screaming quieted, and something warm pressed against my cheek. I sucked in a full breath, my lungs expanding without resistance this time.
“Quinn, sweetheart, open your eyes.”
