My stalker forced me into submission … and I will make sure she pays the price.
No one barges into my home uninvited and takes me for a spin.
“Did you bring gloves?” I don’t wait for him to answer before I check in his bag and pull some out.
“Of course,” he replies while I put them on.
I walk into my bedroom and lean down to inspect the bed, carefully priming the sheets as they were before her intrusion, only to discover a singular black hair resting on the edge of my pillow.
Interesting.
“Call forensics. I’ll need them to run a few tests for me.”
“Yes, sir, I will,” Officer Jones replies, and he clears his throat. “But sir … have you been in contact with anyone from the station since this happened?”
I take in a whiff. My room still reeks of her scent.
Nauseatingly arousing.
“No, why?” I reply.
“Bob went missing. He was stationed at Spine Ridge,” he says.
“I heard.”
“But how? You were tied—”
“She played the voicemail while I was tied up.”
His face whitens the longer we’re talking. “It’s been an hour since then. The others can’t find him anywhere.” He tucks his stuff back into his bag. “I think he’s been killed.”
I pause and look up.
Now what would make him say that?
“Brown interviewed a couple of kids who were at a party at the Tartarus frat house, and they saw a car skidding away from the parking lot right after the time Bob disappeared.”
My pupils dilate.
Could they have taken him?
“Have Brown report to me first thing tomorrow.” I pull the gloves off and chuck them into my bin. “If an officer has been taken or worse—killed—that changes the game entirely.”
“Yes, sir,” Jones says, as he heads back out the door. “Do you need anything else from me? I was gonna go home to my wife, but seeing you tied up there …”
“I’m fine. Go home to Ginny. We’ll speak tomorrow.”
I stand in front of my balcony window and stare outside as Officer Jones closes the door and leaves me and my bruised ego alone.
That woman ran off the moment she heard the voicemail on my phone. She knows something, which means she’s involved in this mess.
And if she isn’t the killer I’m looking for, she’ll lead me right to them.
Orion
When morning comes,my body is still as sore as can be. It feels like I’ve been through the seven gates of hell and made it out alive.
I stretch while yawning, and immediately regret it as pangs shoot through my chest. The wounds nearly burst open again, and I hiss, then crouch like a spawn. The torment Sunny unleashed on my body was out of this world, yet the memory only makes me more elated.
