Goddamn it, he knows this is a trap. Just as well, because, though it worked, based on the gun pointed at me, it clearly didn’twork. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
He pulls at the collar of his turtleneck, tattoo ink curling up his neck like smoke. “Yes, I’m here. And you’re coming with me now.” He jerks his gun to the right, his eyes flicking behind me. “After you, Freckles.”
There’s no point in running. I’m fucked.
I turn around, a sharp pain settling over my chest. Like a stomachache, but where my heart is.
A chest ache.
Maybethisis what heartbreak feels like.
I walk, aware that his gun is still pointed at the back of my head. That the man I started to feel something for wants to kill me, and probably will. Because, of course, I can’t take him with a stupid pink Taser. And I didn’t tell anyone where I am—all Ethan knows is that I’ll be out for a while, and if he needs something, he should call Paige. But he’ll never recover from this, will he? From losing someone else?
“How could you do this?” My voice echoes faintly off the library walls and through the stale air.
Rafael doesn’t say a word behind me.
“I defended you,” I continue, the words ripping out of me likeshards of glass. “Even with everything pointing at you—even when common sense andevidencetold me otherwise—Istilldefended you. Ibelievedyou.”
When he says nothing, I face him, and he glances around. I’m done. I’m not going anywhere, not until he explains. If I’m dying, I want to knowwhy.
A horrifying thought punches through my chest like a wrecking ball. “Did you… did you do all of this for me? The podcast, the murders?”
Still no answer.
“Say something!” I yell, the Taser sparking faintly as my hand jerks.
Finally, he speaks, his voice calm but weighted with something dark. “Why are you here, Scarlett?”
The question throws me, and I look at the gun in his hand like I’m first noticing it now, my stomach twisting into knots. It’s still pointed at me. A motherfuckinggun.
“Why are you here?” he asks again, softer this time, but his gaze darts to the shadows around us like he’s expecting company.
I straighten, my grip tightening on the Taser. “Iledyou here. I picked this book, this place—to force you into the library and catch you.”
His shoulders drop, and to my surprise, he steps back, his expression thoughtful. “Of course you did.”
What?
“Tell me about Reddit,” he says, his tone oddly casual, as if we’re discussing grocery lists instead of murder.
“Reddit?” I snap.
“The post. It was you, right? You wanted people to notice the pattern. You wanted more people to listen to the podcast.”
“No.How could you even think—” My breathing turns shallow,and my grip on the Taser loosens for just a second. “Do you actually believe Iwantedthis?”
“Don’t you? Your podcast was struggling,” he says, his tone infuriatingly calm. “Your job’s on the line.”
“You’vekilledpeople!” I scream. “This isn’t about a podcast or a job. This ismurder.”
He exhales slowly, tilting his head. “The flowers, then. Can you explain those?”
“The… what?”
“The flowers you ordered two weeks ago. You signed for them.”
I stagger back a step, my brow furrowing. “What are youtalkingabout? You used my podcast, Rafael,” I insist, tears stinging my eyes. I don’t know why he’s stalling—talking about Reddit and flowers—and I honestly don’t care. “You’ve tainted my work and made me feel responsible for these murders. You lied to me about everything.” I take a shaky breath. “Whatever reason you had… it’s over. You’re done. I’m going to the police.” My heart pounds so hard it hurts. “Unless you’re ready to kill me, too.”
