Page 121 of Into Pitch

I know who killed him the way you know when a storm is coming because the air changes before the clouds roll in. All the signs are there, you just have to look it in the eye and accept it for what it is.

Alex.

Always fucking Alex.

My chest tightens angrily, breath coming shallow as the implications unfurl one by one. I can almost bet this wasn’t accidental rage. It wasn’t some messy loss of control. He’d made a choice to hunt Evan down and it was deliberate.

All because of one drink and one kiss. A kiss I might add he had no way of confirming for certain because he hadn’t actually asked me.

I yank the remote up, shutting off the TV before I can completely lose my fucking mind. My gaze drifts to the bat leaning beside my door and narrows on it. It’s been there longer than most people in my life. Shoving to my feet, I storm over to the little slice of wood and yank it up into my hand.

Imogen’s face flashes through my mind; her fear and anger, the way her voice shook when she told me she thought I was dead. If she finds out the truth of this… if she connects the dots I’m staring at right now—

My jaw clinches so hard I think my teeth might crack.

This ends.

Not tomorrow.

Not after I think it through.

Now.

I grab my jacket, shove my feet into my boots, and step outside into the night air. I don’t know where Alex is exactly, but I know where he will be. I’m guessing somewhere quiet and completely under control. Somewhere he thinks he has the upper hand.

I sling the bat up onto my shoulder, heart hammering now not with fear but purpose. I’m not running this time. I’m done letting other people decide what happens because of me.

If Alex thinks he gets to protect me by turning the world around me into a graveyard, he’s up for a rude awakening.

Alex’s office building looks the same as it always has; clean lines, glass front, neutral colors meant to soothe and reassure. The kind of place that promises safety through structure. Control through credentials.

I shove through the front doors with my bat still in hand. The receptionist looks up, startled, mouth already opening to speak.

“I’m here to see Dr. Dormsworth,” I growl out.

Her eyes flick to my bat and then to my face. I really fucking hope she calls the cops, because I’ve got a whole slew of information I would love to spill.

“I—I’m sorry, do you have an appointment—”

“Oh, honey, I think the bat shows I don’t. But that’s okay, he’s expecting me.” I hiss and before she can argue I’m already down the hall. She’s chasing after me, as if she stands a chance in hell to stop the amount of crazy I’m about to unleash on her boss.

And I wish I could have kicked his fucking door in, but the bastard steps out to greet me before I get there. He’s as composed as ever in his dark suit and his nice slacks. His hair perfectly styled and those ridiculous blue eyes painted in innocence to anyone who doesn’t actually know him.

Our gazes lock as I storm toward him, his mouth quirking. His attention flicks to my bat before slowly crawling back up, and that innocence changes to downright amusement.

“Why don’t you come in and take a moment,” Alex purrs.

“Take a moment?” I hiss.

“Yeah. That.” He grins.

I’m going to rearrange every last brain cell in that pretty skull of his. I storm past, faintly aware of him waving off his receptionist and mentioning something about schedules.

I storm in, ready to light into his ass when I find a man awkwardly gaping at me on the couch.

“Oh, I—uh…” I mutter and the man hurries to his feet, glancing nervously between me and the bat.

“You did fantastic today, George.” Alex soothes and gestures for the door. “Why don’t you schedule another appointment two weeks from now with Angie at the front desk.”