“It’s new, isn’t it?” Larkin murmurs as he stalks me like a wolf. I turn in a circle to follow him, not wanting him to get behind me. “You’re not used to this.” When I don’t say a word, his smile grows. “You’re not used to being the one who’s afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” The lie is out of my mouth before I even know that it’s not true. But it tastes bad on my tongue, like a sharp-sour thing that’s as nauseating as it is punishing.
I am afraid of him.
Larkin hums his disagreement, eyes goading, but he stops his movements. “You’ve never been hunted before. You’ve had it come easy every time, haven’t you? I did some research, you know. Alan was your roommate’s boyfriend. I bet he didn’t put up much of a fight. What? Did he hurt her feelings? Did he try to hurt her?”
My lips press together as I silently question how the hell he knows shit like this.
“Derek Prescott?—”
“Who?” I interrupt, momentarily confused.
Larkin’s amusement falls. “You never learned the name of the prey you took from me?” he sneers out a hiss, but composes himself with a deep breath. “Derek Prescott. Forty-nine at the time of his death. He was an adjunct professor at a local college. As you found out, he had a taste for children. But let’s not talkabout him. That’ll only upset me. I hate to say it, but I’m holding a grudge.” His smile turns sickly sweet, and it’s clear he hasn’t gotten over what I took from him, supposedly.
Why couldn’t he just kill someone else?
“And last but not least…Anna Morwen.” My mother’s name causes my heart to twist painfully, and I take a quick step away from him, as though he’s launched an actual, physical attack against me to make me recoil.
“Don’t you dare,” I breathe through numb lips, my words are cold enough I’m surprised frost doesn’t come out with them. “You don’t knowanything?—”
“Killing your mother at twelve?” He tsks, and it hits me that he’s looking for a reaction. He’s goading me on purpose, to see what he can get out of me before I can stop myself.
Unfortunately, it’s working.
“Why him?” I demand softly, and I’m pleased to see Larkin’s eyes narrow slightly in confusion. “Why did you have such a hard-on for, what was it, Derek Prescott?” His silence emboldens me enough that it’s my turn to step forward, to fight through the fear in my chest making my heart race in a new, unwanted way. “Was there really no one else? Are you just not very adaptable, Larkin?” His name is like velvet on my tongue, and I make myself ignore the warning in his eyes.
If I can’t get away from him, I’ll win this game another way. I may not be a serial killer leaving trophies all over the region, but I’m not a victim either.
“Want me to tell you how I did it?” I whisper, getting a littletooconfident, probably. I drift into his space until I could reach out and touch him, and from here I can see that he’s so stiff that he doesn’t even seem to be breathing.
Good.If I can make him uncomfortable, this might go in my favor.
“Will that hurt your feelings? To know it wasn’t done how you wanted? It was an accident, you know. Well, not an accident.” I ponder the words, making a big deal out of tapping a finger to my lower lip. “I was in a bit of a fugue state. That’s what my lawyer called it. And he wanted…you know.” I tilt my head. “Do you want to know what it felt like when I pressed my thumb into his eye until it burst like a grape? Too bad I didn’t record his screams?—”
“Don’t,” he murmurs with his attention riveted on me like nothing else exists. “I’m warning you right now, silly girl?—”
“Am I really so silly when I took what you apparently wanted oh so much? I’ve been living in your head for twelve years, not giving you any peace. But you?” My smile turns sweet, and I’m too far gone in my arrogance to give a thought to the way he shifts a little, like he’s getting ready to pounce.
“You’ve been obsessed with me without me even knowing your name or that you exist—” He moves so fast I don’t have a chance to respond. With how close I’ve gotten, there’s nothing I can do except gasp when he suddenly grabs my throat and sweeps my legs out from under me. A surprised cry leaves me when my back hits the rug, and my hands come up to grip his wrist, fingers digging into his skin.
A shocked gasp escapes my lips when he kisses me, his body pinning mine as he straddles my waist with his long legs. His other hand goes to my hair and he wrenches my head back, leaving my mouth before I can bite him so he can trail bites and kisses down my throat.
“Silly girl,” he purrs. “Silly, stupid girl. You think riling me up will get you what you want? You think it’ll get you the upper hand here?” He scoffs against my throat and bites down hard enough that I yelp.
“It’ll get you fucked on my floor while you cry and tell me it’s too much.” Without warning, Larkin grabs my hoodie, yanking itover my head along with my t-shirt to leave me in my plain black bra. I gasp out my protests, but with my arms held in his, there’s not much I can do.
“Fuck you!” I snarl, stupidly and a bit redundantly. His response is a snort and an eye roll before he lunges down and bites down on my lower lip again, his teeth sinking in until I taste blood. My cry goes unheeded, and he sinks down further until his body is pressed to mine.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” Larkin snarls, jerking off his own shirt. It’s the first time I get to look at him like this, and my eyes travel over the myriad tattoos that cover his upper body. Every inch of skin is part of a pattern, from where his jeans begin to the designs that climb his neck like ivy. They’re beautifully done, and not one of them is worthy of being ink-shamed in any circle.
“Didn’t this hurt?” I find myself asking, worming one arm free to press my fingers over his sternum curiously. His skin is warmer than I expect, and I jerk my hand away, eyes narrowing as I look at him. “Why do you have them all?”
“Another time,” Larkin dismisses, though I can’t miss the flash of surprised approval in his eyes. Did he not expect me to remark on them? Did he not expect me to notice? He nips at my lower lip again and stands up suddenly, with me in his arms, though it’s only so he can whirl me around, making my head spin, and drop me onto the sectional against the wall.
His shit-eating grin returns as he crowds over me, a hand on my throat as he sits on my calves. “I’m a little busy right now, silly girl, in case you didn’t notice.” He jerks my leggings down my thighs suddenly, and my heart lurches in my chest, hand coming up to grab his arm.
I expect hesitation and fear to be the things that bubble up my throat. I’m ready to tell him tostop, towait, or at least tellhim that it’s really been a while and I’m not very experienced in this area.
