An ache forms in the bottom of my gut as I swallow hard. “What do you mean?”
“John the Baptist’s MO was very specific. I’m wondering if the copycat knows all of it.”
My hand flexes at my side, aching for the weight of my knife. “Maybe that’s how the police can tell it’s a copycat?”
Another inch toward me.
Another inch away.
Slicer’s lips turn down. “You’re being safe out here, right?”
“What?” Nausea stirs inside me.
“Are you being safe?” he repeats. “Ya know, like locking your doors and windows, carrying pepper spray, not walking alone at night?”
I don’t like where this is going…
A sliver of a space finally opens in front of me, and I don’t squander the opportunity. I squeeze through, causing some cursing and complaints in typical New York style.
“Wait! Savannah!”
Slicer’s voice is muffled enough to give me a single ray of hope that I’ll lose him in the throng of angry pedestrians.
Sweat gathers on the back of my neck, and my heart turns into a jackhammer.
The revolving door is less than a foot away when someone grasps my hand, tugging me backward. I throw my weight forward, barely making it into the next rotation.
My hand smacks against the glass, as does the other, and the person behind me shouts. “Fucking bitch!”
When I get through, I don’t turn around, and I don’t slow my pace. I beeline for the elevator and almost miss the man waiting for me at reception.
“Hey, hey.” Luke steps in my path, lifting his hands to get me to stop. “What’s going on? Where’s the fire?”
I halt just before his hands hit my chest. “Um. Nothing. I’m fine.”
He leans to the side, looking past me. “Who’s that?”
A quick glance backward shows Slicer standing outside the door, clutching his hand. “No one.”
Luke’s lips twist to the side. “He doesn’t seem likeno one.”
“It’s fine.” I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it.”
Luke grabs my hand, the one that hit the glass, and I wince. His brows lower as he adjusts his hold, bringing my hand closer to his face. He pulls on the tips of my glove, removing the fabric carefully.
When it slips away, he tucks my glove into his suit pocket, revealing angry red skin around my knuckles with a bruise already taking shape.
His teeth grind as he studies my damaged skin, emphasizing the sharpness of his jaw. “I’ll kill him,” he growls.
“That’s not necessary,” I blurt out. “He’s not worth the possibility of prison.”
His hard eyes flick to mine. The darkness there should be frightening. It should make me want to run as far and as fast as possible in the opposite direction.
Instead, I want to get closer. There’s something there that makes me feel like I know him.
Something familiar.
Luke drops his voice lower, taking on a grit I haven’t heard before. “Anyone who hurts you shouldn’t be allowed to breathe.”
