Page 22

“What happened earlier was a random attack,” she muttered. But her gaze had dipped to the white bandage on her arm.

When she’d first seen that blood…

I was back in that old house. Running through the hallways. Screaming for help that didn’t come.

The nightmares would return that night. She knew it. She’d wake up screaming, body soaked in sweat. She didn’t want Hunter to see her that way.

“I have more questions for you.” He made no move to retreat. “We didn’t talk long enough at my office. There’s more I need to know about you.”

“You can ask all of your questions tomorrow.” His scent teased her. Crisp. Masculine. Tempting.

His jaw hardened.

“You are not staying in this bedroom with me.” She didn’t want him to see her when she screamed and fought in her sleep.

“Fine.” A smile flashed on his face. A big, tiger’s grin. One that appeared far too pleased. “The couch will do well enough, thanks.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

“Wait, no! That’s not what I meant!” Shelby bounded after him. Her hand closed around his arm. “Hunter!”

He stopped right near her bedroom doorway. His gaze swept to her hand. She could have sworn that the muscles in his arm tensed beneath her touch.

“You don’t have to stay,” she told him, trying to project a confident tone. “It’s unnecessary. When I hired you, I planned for the protection detail to begin when we headed to Florida.” A trip that would be occurring very, very soon. Soon, as in tomorrow. They’d talked at the hospital and on the way to her house—they were both ready to begin their investigation. The sooner they reached Hathaway, the better.

“You were delaying the protection detail’s start because you thought there wouldn’t be any danger until you returned home.”

Home. No, that place wasn’t home. It hadn’t been home in a very long time.

Home is where the nightmares wait.

“But I think the events today prove that there is plenty of danger around you right now. Tell me, Shelby, how many men are obsessed with you?” The question came out tight, hard, angry.

She snatched her hand back. “What?” He’d just caught her completely off guard.

“Your attack was years ago. But you live in a fortress. You just told me that you’re always scared.” His stare was far too assessing as he fully faced her. “That makes me believe things have happened that make you stay on your guard all the time.”

Her arms curled around her stomach. “You try waking up in a slaughter house where all of your best friends have been murdered and see if you don’t stay afraid all the time.”

His nostrils flared.

“But, yes, fine, I’ve gotten…stalkers, okay?” He wasn’t wrong. “Over the years, they’ve popped up. It happens. The media basically turned me into some real-life slasher queen, and threats came my way because of that. I had people who wrote scary letters or posted twisted crap online about finishing the job of the Sorority Seven Killer.” Her heart raced far too fast in her chest. “So I got out of Florida. I got as far away from any limelight as I could. I live here.” She’d made a new home there. “I have a PO Box so no one can find my real address. I have no social media because I know that if I do get online, the trolls will swarm. The men who think I’m some creepy version of their horror fantasy come true. People who don’t see me as a person, but just some character they can play with. That’s not me.”

How could his face change so that he looked so cold, so hard, so dangerous in a blink?

She released a long breath. “I’ve had prisoners write to me. I’ve had college kids follow me. I’ve had a few very persistent individuals who have even managed to find my home and try to break inside.” And every single time, she’d felt the cold rush of fear fill her.

But that fear was a close companion for Shelby. As she’d told him, she was always scared. She didn’t remember a moment since that horrible attack seven years ago when she had not been afraid. When her body had always not seemed to be on high alert. When she could just relax and feel and live in the moment like everyone else.

Instead, I keep expecting a knife to shove into me again.

Face still tight and angry, Hunter told her, “I want their names. If you have the letters or the emails or anything that those people sent to you, I want them. I will check out every bastard and make sure they all understand to stay the fuck away.”

Well. She raised her brows. “Pretty sure that’s going above and beyond the scope of the work I hired you to conduct.”

His lips thinned.

“Over the last seven years, I’ve gotten more notes and messages than I can count.” Back at the beginning, the contacts would come nearly every day. “People saw my story or my picture and they got fixated.”

His gaze cut away. He seemed to be studying her room.