And now I remember the story. Two wealthy, respected New Rome citizens gunned down in an alley in front of their young son. It was the headline of every newspaper at the time.
They died a few years before the Bondage Killer came for my family.
He’s an orphan, like me. His parents were murdered—like mine. We were around the same age, too. Children trapped in a nightmare.
There’s a picture of the dark-haired boy he’d been standing beside the double grave. It’s sick what these reporters will do for a story. How they’ll photograph a ten-year-old and plaster his grief all over newspaper stands throughout the nation.
The headlines are familiar—Murder outside a movie theater. Rich Roys gunned down. Nightmare. No one is safe—and remind me of the ones from my hometown.Horrors in Elyria. Serial killer slays family. Small town under siege.
A wave of heat rushes over me. I drop my phone and press my hands against my eyes.
His voice comes to me.Breathe, little bird.I feel his weight on my chest. Grounding me. Keeping me present. His massive frame shadowing mine. Standing between me and the rest of the world. Keeping me safe.
My phone rings.Sircalling.A smile touches my lips, defying the pain in my heart. I dash a hand at my eyes and answer.
“You didn’t reply to my text.” His voice is deep and gentle. A little chiding.
I grip my phone tighter. I don’t know why. I should be throwing it across the room. My heart beats painfully in my chest.
“Little bird? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I wipe my eyes.
“Do you need me?” There are sounds of movement in the background. “I’ll come to you.”
“No,” I choke out. “Please. I need. . . space.”
“All right.” His voice is so soft. How am I having a moment with him? I should be fighting this, but right now, his voice is steadying, anchoring me.
“Do you like the room?” He’s distracting me.
It’s gorgeous. “It’s passable.” A chuckle. He knows I’m lying. “I prefer to be in my own place. Unfortunately, it’s still a crime scene because someone murdered a man and dumped the body there.” Instead of scolding him, it sounds like I’m sharing a secret. Something special for only the two of us.
“How inconsiderate. I hoped a stay at the Magnifique would make amends. The room should have everything you need—check the closet.”
Curiosity has me off the bed. I open the closet doors. . . and gasp.
The closet is filled with clothes. Designer jeans, cashmere sweaters, and glittering dresses on black velvet hangers.
“What is this?” I know without looking that everything is exactly my size.
“I told you I’m going to take care of you.”
My lungs seize. I lean against the wall, bending over to ease the pressure so I can breathe. “Why?”
“Because. . . I need to.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us.” He sounds bemused. Like he’s still unraveling what we are to each other.
“I’m going to catch you.”
“I know, little bird. No one’s ever hunted me before. I’m looking forward to the chase.”
He ends the call, and the room tilts around me. If he happened to appear at this moment, I don’t know if I’d arrest him or run into his arms.
On a hunch, I head to the dresser and pull open a drawer. Lingerie—gorgeous and sexy. Luxurious satin and whisper-soft lace. The contents of a single drawer are worth more than my monthly rent.
