“He’s smart and he’s charming. That’s how he sucks you in. He finds out what interests you and makes it seem like the two of you have a lot in common.”
“All right, that helps. Anything else?”
“He’s diabolical. He isn’t just bad, he’s evil. He killed a stray dog I was feeding when we lived in Phoenix because I said something he didn’t like. That’s when I started making plans to leave. In Houston, he murdered my neighbor’s kitten. He’s a psychopath and he’s terrifying.”
“Hey, take it easy. The guy’s not coming near you, okay?”
She realized her hands were balled into fists and forced herself to relax. “Sorry. I don’t like to think about him.”
“You don’t have to. So far there’s no reason to believe he did it. But just to be safe, Cole and Noah will be checking the perimeter several times a day. I’ll be keeping an eye out around here. He shows up, we’ll be ready.” He flashed a wide, reassuring smile. “All you need to think about is making the perfect meatloaf, okay?”
Josh didn’t smile that often, but when he did, it was devastating. Tory felt hot all the way to her toes. “Okay.”
Josh left to unload the supplies he’d brought back from town and Tory went in to check on Ivy and finish supper. If Damon had burned down the barn, if he had followed her to Iron Springs, Josh would deal with him. His promise made Tory feel safer.
And it scared her to death.
Chapter Ten
Damon slowed the rental car as he drove past the house. It was dark, a layer of clouds hiding the moon. There were no lights on, nothing to disturb the blackness. At this late hour, Lisa would be sleeping. He hadn’t planned to take things this far, but the little redheaded bitch who belonged to him had eluded him long enough.
He’d found her in Houston without much trouble, but it had taken him months to find her in Carlsbad—even with the help of his overpaid detective. After the way she’d hurt him that night, left him bound and humiliated on the floor of her apartment, she could run to the ends of the earth and he would still find her. He wouldn’t give up until he did.
More than a month had passed since then. It infuriated him that she’d been able to hide from him so long. Worse yet, this time she had completely disappeared and even his pricey investigator had no idea where to look for her.
A problem Damon planned to remedy tonight.
He parked the car in the alley behind the simple three-bedroom tract house in the Desert Hills subdivision on the east side of Phoenix. Pulling on a pair of snug black leather gloves, he headed for the rear gate, opened it, and slipped into the backyard.
Lisa Shane was Tory’s best friend, the only close friend she had. Her father had left her mother when Tory was just a kid. She’d told him once that her old man had remarried and was living in Florida with a whole new family. He had severed his ties with her and she had severed hers with him. Her mother had died a few years before Damon had met her.
He took his time, made a cursory examination of the house but saw no sign of an alarm system.People were such fools.
Of course, it didn’t really matter. He’d been able to get past most digital alarms since he was in high school.
He took a set of lock picks out of his pocket. He’d been what the teachers had called a troubled teen. His parents were divorced. His dad had raised him and his dad was filthy rich.
As a teenager, Damon had more spending money than any other kid in school, but the adrenal rush he got from breaking into a house while the owner was in there sleeping, or beating up some itinerant on the sidewalk was a thrill he’d craved like a drug.
Over the years, it had taken more and more to get that kind of rush, but the high was a fire in his blood.
By the time he’d graduated college, his need had become so powerful he realized it was something beyond the realm of normal, something he would have to control.
It took some effort, but he had learned to do just that.
As an executive in his father’s real estate development company, he made a fat salary for doing a minimum of work, lived in a beautiful condo, and fucked pretty much any woman he wanted. He was good-looking and he could be charming, a talent he used to get what he wanted.
Until Tory, he’d kept his personal life separate from the secret life he led, but the little whore he had stupidly fallen for and planned to marry had managed to destroy his hard-earned control.
He could still remember how furious he’d been when he’d seen her getting out of another man’s car. That night he’d managed to tamp down his anger, letting only a little of it show. She was a cheating whore, he’d discovered, and sooner or later, he intended to make her pay.
Still, he enjoyed her in bed and he didn’t mind keeping her around. They’d only had one real argument—something about her wanting to go out with her girlfriends, which he had strictly forbidden.
Then came the night he’d caught her moving out of his house. As if he’d allow her to make that decision. His temper had finally snapped. He could still remember the rush he’d gotten when he’d dealt with the conniving little bitch. Hitting her, punishing her, watching her bleed made him feel like a king.
After accepting his ring, then cheating on him, she deserved everything he’d done to her that night. Everything he planned to do once he got his hands on her again. All he had to do was find her.
Damon put the lock picks to work, quickly opened the back door, and slipped silently into the house. Making his way quietly down the hall, he reached the master bedroom.
