Great. The jerk could be hiding anywhere in the surrounding woods with an assault rifle in his hand and I was outside being the perfect victim. A slight crack forced a strangled scream from my throat. I backed away quickly, almost stumbling in my effort to return to the foyer, slamming and locking the door. “Fuck.”

  My heart was palpitating as I headed into the kitchen, searching for the smaller flatscreen’s remote. Once I found it, I hesitated before snatching it off the counter. Every inch of me was shaking and as I turned on the television, I held my breath.

  Commercials were on, one rolling after another. Groaning, I headed for the open bottle of wine, determined to calm my nerves. By the time I grabbed a wineglass, the news had returned. There was nothing blasting at first, allowing me to pour the wine. But when I heard the name Zane Griffen, I stiffened, tilting my head. The guy from the diner? Everything was starting to play out like one of the horror books I’d read over the years.

  I was in a fog until the news broadcast changed the photos from the crime scene inside a park to the victim himself.

  I knew the reporter was talking, but I was too busy staring at the photograph of the horrible bully who’d been in the diner. The red bulletin on the bottom indicated he’d been killed in a local park, the crime considered a drug deal gone bad, indicating the incident had occurred at night. Lovely park by day, drug-selling capital by night. Swallowing hard, I took my wine closer, staring at the screen. I wouldn’t put the use of drugs past the guy. It could explain his asinine behavior from all those nights before.

  Wait. My encounter had been days before. I’d been with Easton every night.

  Right?

  There was no way he could have snuck out.

  I was about to lift my middle finger for my own personal action of defiance when the reporter added that given the state of rigor mortis, Zane had been dead for several days.

  Oh, shit.

  The unknown caller had drawn my attention to the report for a particular reason. Mystery man had been trying to convince me that Easton had killed both men? I found it hard to believe although a cold chill shifted down my spine. After another, I couldn’t stand it any longer, turning off the report and holding the remote against my forehead. What was I supposed to say to Easton?

  A flash of lightning caught my attention and I groaned all over again.

  This was like living in my own personal nightmare. I was a rational girl. Even without Easton telling me he and his family had enemies. Still, I was sick inside, worried the caller was trying to lead me on a scavenger hunt of some kind.

  I took another sip of wine and the hard knock on the front door almost made me drop my glass. At first, I wasn’t going to open it but perhaps there was a delivery. Cringing, I hated the fact I was suddenly terrified of my own shadow. Why? Because some jerk had dared interrupt my working day with false accusations?

  Fuck it. I would ask Easton later but at this point, I wasn’t going to be terrorized by anyone. I moved to the same sidelight, peering out. A man stood on the front porch, his back turned to the door. In his hands were books. Books? Sighing, I unlocked the door, slowly opening it.

  The guy standing on the other side had a huge grin on his face but seconds later, his eyes registered surprise. “Whoa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”

  “Professor Shelton?” I was confused, glancing over his shoulder at the vehicle he was driving. A big red truck.

  “Sara Adams. Oh, my goodness. Of course. You’re in my English class. Wait a minute. You’re working with Easton. Aren’t you? I think he said you were his intern. Is that right?”

  “Yes, I am. How do you know him?”

  He gave me a funny look. “Because we’re colleagues.”

  “Well, duh. He’s not here right now. He had a meeting of some kind.”

  His smile was genuine. “That’s fine. I was just going to drop these off at the door when I didn’t see his car, which he usually parks outside that big garage of his. I know he’s excited to write a bestseller. I’m sorry to just drop by. He left these in my car the other night when we grabbed a beer. I kept forgetting about them.”

  I glanced at the two books as he handed them to me and laughed. “How to write a horror bestseller in sixty days?”

  He laughed with me. “It was always his dream to pen a bestseller. You should read some of his earlier stories. Hopefully, you can keep him on track. The man is always busy. Anyway, I need to run. My girl is expecting me. Are you coming to graduation?”

  “I think so. Thanks for dropping them by.”

  “Of course. Good luck. He can be a tough guy but a good egg all the way around. I’ll see you tonight if you decide to come.”

  “I know. I’m excited to continue working with him.”

  “Just don’t let him bite.” His grin remaining, he raced down the stairs and I waited until he’d slipped in his vehicle before closing the front door.

  At least I felt a bit better after the phone call. I glanced at the books, deciding to keep them for myself at this point. I took them upstairs, remembering my wine was still in the kitchen. Another rumble of thunder kept the anxiety high. I moved to the computer, googling Dylan Roxford.

  It took only a couple of seconds to find an article on his death. It was the one Josie had mentioned as well. Shit. He’d gone to the university. Was it possible? I couldn’t stand the thought.

  Backing away, I refused to fall into the quagmire of being led down a stray path. I’d ask the question about where he’d gone after the diner the night of Zane’s death and if he had a logical response, then I was going to put it behind me.

  No. I refused to buy into either warning. At least completely. It was silly to think he was some random killer. Why would he do that? I’d known he’d been furious with Zane, but Easton had managed to put all three jerks in their places. Why risk all he had to kill the man after being seen with him? Nope. I did not buy the story in the least. I shoved it aside, glancing at my phone before pressing print on what little I’d been working on. As the papers emptied into the holder, I stared at my phone.

  When I heard another noise, I moved toward the office door, holding my breath. As I noticed Easton coming in through the front door, packages in his arms, I felt so much relief that without thinking, I flew down the stairs. He’d barely placed the packages onto the hardwood floor before I flung myself at him.

  “Whoa,” he huffed, immediately tensing. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Nothing. You’re home. You’re really home.”

  He pushed me away, shaking his head slowly. “Not good enough, baby. Talk to me. I know something happened.”

  “Just a call.”

  “What do you mean a call?”

  “A guy. At least I think it was a man. He said things.”

  “What things?”

  I was exasperated, beads of perspiration trickling down my face. “I could swear I was being watched. Then this guy called. He said I should watch the news.”

  “You have no idea who it was?”

  “No, the voice was disguised. It could have been a man or a woman for all I knew. But he told me to watch the news. I did…” I was still haunted by what I’d seen, the images of seeing Zane in the diner then knowing he was dead was… horrible.

  Even worse, a part of me was glad he was gone. What in God’s name did that make me?

  Easton rose to his full height, finally closing the door behind him. “Tell me what you saw on television.”

  I was so sick inside, so nervous that I was ready to vomit. I looked away, fighting all the fear inside of me, the what-ifs about whether the man I was falling hard for was capable of doing heinous things. What would I do if that was the truth?

  I had no idea.

  None.

  Maybe love could conquer all.

  He became exasperated after a few seconds, clamping his fingers around my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Tell me what the asshole was insinuating. I need to hear everything.”

  The look in his eyes was more intoxicating than the night before.

  It was also far more dangerous.

  I felt myself gasping for air, trying desperately to keep my mind from going to all the wretched, dark places.

  Maybe that’s why the answer followed by a question was spewed so easily.

  “That you killed both Dylan Roxford and Zane Griffen. I need to know. Are you the Angel of Death?”

  CHAPTER 25

  Easton

  Patience.

  Maybe it had been a temporary virtue after all.

  In the middle of the raging storm, I’d taken my weapon outside, searching the grounds. I was firmly convinced someone had made their way onto my property through the back. There was an adjoining road leading to a subdivision yet to be built. It was the perfect entry point for someone who didn’t want to be seen.

  Sara had pointed out the area where she was somewhat certain she’d seen someone. There were broken tree limbs and possibly a path, but with the amount of rainfall received in just one hour, it was impossible to see if a path had been created.

  “Just find out if you can track down the fucking burner phone, Creed. You have experts who can handle this shit.”

  Creed laughed. “If the asshole doesn’t want it discovered, then he purchased it from some third-hand dealer who likely owned a bunch of them for months. You know that. You were trained.”

  “Try and find out. The fucker has gone too far.”

  The previous calls to my brothers had been scrambled, which had meant the cellphone used had been privately owned and not a toss away.

  This was different.

  Was it possible there wasn’t a single entity threatening us?

  In my mind, hell, yes. I remained in my office, pacing the floor and sucking down bourbon of all fucking alcohol. It appeared it was my go-to when I was the most stressed. And right now, I could rip the head off a damn pig if necessary. How dare someone try to terrify my beautiful woman.

  “Are you ready to have cameras installed now?” he asked way too casually.

  “Yes. Fucking yes.”

  “Okay, I’ll have the installation arranged. Have you worked on the list yet?”

  I laughed. The list of contenders. Right now, I had a feeling we were barking up the wrong tree. “I have a feeling the asshole isn’t on that list.”

  “Then we rule them out and start over.”

  “I have a feeling we’ll all be dead by then.” I slammed my almost empty drink on the credenza, determined to fill it several times. I’d been reckless in trying to avoid who and what I was for so long. Being CFO had made me soft, as if the past could never come back and haunt us.

  It had waited to exact revenge, seeping in under the bottom of the door and in through cracks in the foundation crevices. The demons had lurked, biding their time for the perfect moment to strike. That’s how we could fall, even though we were far more powerful than our foes.

  All three of us had become too confident, too comfortable in our skin. We’d pretended no one could hurt us. Meanwhile, it had just been a matter of time.

  Creed sighed. “We’ll get this prick, bro. I promise you that.”

  Yeah, well, we would have to see. “I want a meeting tomorrow. We are going on a hunt if necessary. The fucker will be found and he will die. I don’t give a fuck what we need to do. I am finished with playing the nice guy. That’s not me and never was. You and Styx were right. I’ve been a fucking fool to think I could run from who I am.”

  I could hear him sucking in his breath out of shock. So what. Maybe I was the dangerous brother. Angel of Death? I’d show the world a man who showed no mercy. No. I never would again.

  “Agreed and about time. I’ll set up the meeting in the morning. Don’t go off halfcocked, brother. I know you care about Sara. That’s obvious, but she’s okay. Whoever is doing this was simply trying to push you into lashing out. You’re the rational one. We’ll find him.”

  “We damn well better. Now, I need to think.” Where my two brothers usually acted quickly with typical threats, I was the one who thought the possible ramifications through, ensuring the outcome would be what I wanted it to be.

  This time, I was so full of rage I wasn’t certain I could bottle it up for long.

  Maybe that’s why when the call was ended and I held my phone against my forehead, I heard a slight cracking sound of the plastic giving way. I tossed it aside, raking my hand across my desk, barely missing smashing my laptop. My patience was gone.

  Maybe never to return.

  I completed my tantrum by pounding my fist on my desk several times. “Fuck. Fuck.” After slapping both palms on the surface, I hung my head, seeing blood in my vision. I would find the fuck and cut his head off.

  “I take it we’re not going to the ceremony.”

  The shot of electricity almost dropped me to my knees. I slowly lifted my head, drinking in the vision before me. While the woman I adored had been threatened, I’d been off purchasing shit as presents. But she looked incredible in the dress I’d bought her, the stilettos adding inches of height while accentuating her already long legs.

  My mind went to filthy aspects of what I wanted instead of the business at hand. I walked around the edge, stepping on the items I’d tossed off carelessly. “It’s not a good idea. I’m sorry.” I’d never answered her question because I wasn’t certain about her mindset, how she’d handle the truth.

  Or maybe I just didn’t want to divulge what a monster I truly was.

  She nodded and walked further into the room, glancing down at the mess I’d made. “That’s fine.” Her words were perfunctory. “I didn’t care to go anyway.”

  Which meant she was disappointed. I couldn’t risk taking her. If there was some vendetta being planned, the ceremony would be the perfect time and place to begin eliminating us.

  If that’s what the fucker intended.

  Nothing was off the table at this point.

  The silence was telling and awkward. I sighed and looked away. “Did you open the computer?”

  “Yes, it’s way too expensive but very powerful. Just like you.” Now she had a wistful tone, and I sensed the heat of her piercing eyes before she walked carefully toward my bar.

  I cocked my head, watching as she grabbed another rocks glass, filling both with the expensive whiskey. Every action she took was methodical, every step after spinning around to face me practiced. It was possible she was in a state of denial or even slight shock.

  “It’s the least I could do for all the hard work you’ve been putting in on the book.”

  “Being given co-author rights will be payment enough.”

  At least I could still chuckle. And she wasn’t joking. “Already in the works, baby. Already in the works.”

  She was one of the strongest women I’d ever met. As she handed me the drink and our fingers touched, we both took a deep breath.

  “Who threatened me about you?”

  “I wish I knew the answer, Sara. My brothers and I have been attempting to discover the bastard.”

  “That means you’ve been threatened before.”

  “Yes. By email and phone. It’s a game, a similar one to what our father used to play when he was luring his prey to the hunt.” It was at the point she deserved to know the situation was becoming even more dangerous.

  “An old enemy?”

  “That’s what we’re looking into and I suspect it’s someone like a family member of a former… client of my father’s.”

  She burst into nervous laughter. “A client. A nice of way of putting a former piece of prey.”

  “This is no joke, my sweet Sara. The person is out for revenge. He will stop at nothing to get it. And know this. You’ve been identified as my weakness. As such, the person or persons will try and use you against me.”

  “By making me hate you?”

  I took a deep breath, nodding. “Possibly. At minimum, they will make you fear me, telling you I will hurt you.”

  “Will you?”

  “I haven’t lied to you at all. While I haven’t told you every one of my past activities, you’re a very smart girl. I’m certain you now understand why.”

  She took a few seconds before nodding. At least perhaps now she better understood my caution and my continued anger.

  “And I will never, ever hurt you, Sara. You’re very important to me, even though it was a mistake to bring you into my life.”

  “Because I’ll always be ammunition?”

  “Yes. After this is over, you will be free to go if you want. In fact, I suggest you consider leaving town.” The ache in just saying the words surprised the fuck out of me. Since when did I ever let something I wanted go?

  Since I’d found the one thing I couldn’t own.

  Her love.

  I could keep her captive for the rest of her life, showering her with beautiful things but I wasn’t that kind of man. I wanted more.

  Much more.

  The question was, could I provide her the kind of life she deserved? It would seem we were both having a difficult time keeping our eyes off each other. Partly because she was trying to figure out whether she should run screaming from me. Maybe she should. But I was just enjoying basking in her beauty, knowing the moment might be short lived. However, whether or not she wanted it, I would protect her. No one would dare touch her again.

  Even the way she was dragging the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip remained far too provocative, which wasn’t what I should be thinking about.

  I watched as she brought the drink to her lips, closing her eyes as she took a sip. When she lowered the glass, she darted her eyes back and forth. “I need an answer, Easton. Are you or are you not this Angel of Death the press mentioned?”

  “As I said to you before, my sweet, some answers will terrify you.” I attempted to touch her face and she glared at me defiantly.

  Her laugh was bittersweet. “We’ve been embroiled in writing about murders so cleverly handled, so masterfully envisioned that our serial killer can’t be arrested because there is no evidence. And our heroine is in the process of falling in love with him. With a madman killer. Imagine that.”