He’s mistaken.
I glance up from my phone, “I’ll take it.” And this time when I say it, I’m looking directly at him.
The edge in my voice draws both his and Alex’s attention as well as Noah and Gavin sitting across the room at the bay of monitors.
“It’s just the server rooms and one office,” Nate shrugs, “Brett’s the only one over there.”
“I’m aware,” I say with a smirk.
I’m also acutely aware of how much he likes talking about her stunning hazel eyes and her incredible ass, as if he knows fuck all about them. The further away he is from her office, the better.
“Really,” Nate’s smile fades, his patience wearing thin, “I’ll keep it.”
“Maybe I’m not making myself clear,” I set down my phone and plant my elbow on the table, “the hallway is mine,” I lean forward, “and she is mine.”
The room goes quiet, filling with tension as Alex’s dark eyes shift back and forth from me to Nate, a smile tugging at his mouth. Noah turns his head inconspicuously to see what happens. Gavin isn’t as subtle. He swivels in his chair and props his elbow up on the desk behind Noah, his eyes bugging out of his head. Meanwhile, Nate studies me, trying to figure out if I’m full of shit.
“I have an idea,” Alex chirps with amusement, “let’s go out to the parking lot and you two can fight for it.”
“My money’s on Col,” Noah chimes in from his seat in front of the monitors.
Nate jerks his head around, “Are you fucking serious?”
“No offense, man,” Noah shrugs, “Lutz just has that deranged look about him.”
“I have a better idea,” I lean back in my chair, “how about you give it to the only person in this building who knows what Brett feels like from the inside.”
Alex bites his lip and takes a long blink, trying to keep a straight face, but fails miserably. He might be a hard-ass with everyone else, but I still know how to break that cool exterior of his better than anyone.
Noah’s jaw drops and Gavin doubles over with laughter while Nate glares at me from across the table, “Bullshit,” he challenges.
“You’re welcome to take a walk up to my girl’s office and ask her yourself,” I tilt my head with a smirk, “get her good and mad for me. She loves taking a swing at me before I fuck her—really pumps her up.”
“Shit, bro…” Gavin chuckles, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Noah clicks away on the monitor, “Don’t do it man, it’s a trap.”
“Nah,” Nate shakes his head, still convinced I’m bluffing, “she’s engaged, dude.”
“For now,” I reach up, slide my flashlight out of its straps on my vest, and plant it upright on the table with a thump, “but I have her favorite toys.” I slide my fist up and down the black metal and wink at him with a devious smile.
There’s a heavy pause as they all glance at the flashlight and then at me. Moments later, Noah and Gavin explode in a cacophony of laughter like a couple of hyenas while Alex tries to remain professional, but he can’t help but smile, muttering a curse under his breath with the others. Deranged can be frightening, but it’s also entertaining. And who doesn’t love a good laugh? Which is why Nate can hate my fucking guts and no one will bat an eye.
“Fine,” Nate purses his lips and waves his hand at me dismissively, “fuck if I care.”
“Thanks, pumpkin,” I taunt, grabbing my phone off the table and standing up. I start to replace my flashlight, then hesitate, shooting Nate a pensive look, “You know what? I might need this in a few minutes,” I say, giving the flashlight a spin and sauntering toward the door.
“Well, gentlemen,” Alex flips his papers over his clipboard, “I think this has been a productive meeting.”
It’s that easy.
Because it’s not the mindless, impulsive freaks who are the most dangerous. It’s the intelligent boys who endure the unthinkable and then are told to forgive and forget.
Don’t throw your life away. Go to college, make something of yourself.
So, I do. I learn how to focus, how to pay attention, how to research, how to think critically, how to be patient, how to listen, and then craft a plan. Then, after I graduate with a 4.5 GPA, I learn how to search, find, survive, and even kill if I have to. And, even after that, I learn patience, focus, and how to take out my target at a distance.
I do exactly what they told me to. I become a better stalker.
And I have one purpose—to find Brett Ashley Sorensen and destroy Bowen Garrison.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Brett
One Year Ago
I know that voice, but it shouldn’t be here in this room. I want it to be here, bursting through the doorway to save me. But, instead, it’s coming from the demonic shadow hovering over my body about to slice me to pieces.
He releases my hair, letting me drop onto the mattress, and smoothly steps off the bed onto the carpet. I roll over and push myself up to a crouching position, shaking as I watch him take a few steps back. He reaches behind his shoulders and grabs the back of his sweatshirt by the fists, pulling it up and over his head. Then he balls it up and chucks it into the corner, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath.
“He’s not protecting you now, is he?” he scoffs in the darkness.
The sound of his voice is like a knife through my heart. I scramble to the other night stand and switch on the lamp, nearly knocking it onto the floor like the other one.
Bowen stands in the middle of the room, glaring at me as he rakes his hair back from his eyes, sweat glistening on his brow. All I can do is stare at him in horror from behind the bed, my mouth agape and chin trembling as my body tries to figure out how to function again.
“You’ve been a bad, bad girl,” he coos with pure malice in his eyes, “Honeybee.”
