Page 78 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

“Derrick.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Haven’t gone by that name in forever—until you, that is. My friends—and my enemies—call me Rex.”

Rex. I blinked, trying to connect the dots… but I didn’t have any. I had no frame of reference, and I’d never heard that name?—

Wait. Yes, I had.

Rex was Dane’s cellmate. The one who’d written me a letter once to let me know how good Dane was doing. How good for him I was. My mouth went dry, that realization not helping much because I still didn’t understand the big picture.

Rex crouched in front of me, his eyes gleaming with something dark, something too close to satisfaction. “I loved your letters, by the way. They got me through my time inside like nothing else ever could.”

“My… letters?”

“You’ve been talking to me all along, you know. Writing to me. Sending me pictures. Those letters you sent to Dane? He thought they were his, but he was wrong.”

My stomach twisted violently, nausea threatening to overwhelm me. I forced myself to hold his gaze. “You… you read my letters?”

“Read them?” He laughed, and the sound made my skin crawl. “I memorized them. Every word. Every one of them. You don’t even know what you did, do you? How you saved me? Made me feel like someone finally understood me? Made me feel like I was worth helping?”

“I was writing to Dane.” I tried to inject steel into my voice, but it felt like throwing pebbles at a brick wall.

His smile faded, replaced by something colder. “Yeah, maybe. But it was a waste of time. He didn’t deserve you. Still doesn’t. But me? You helped me. You made me better. Don’t you see? You were made to be mine.”

The room tilted, his words sending my mind spiraling. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, couldn’t process what he was saying. But then he stood, pulling something from the waistband of his jeans, and every thought screeched to a halt.

A gun.

I flinched, and my heart hammered so hard against my ribs that I was sure he could hear it.

“Relax,” he said, as if that were possible. “This isn’t for you.”

“What do you mean?” My voice was barely above a whisper now, but I had to ask. I had to keep him talking.

“He’s coming for you, isn’t he?”

I stilled. “Who?”

I knew who he meant, and he knew I did.

He smiled faintly, shaking his head. “He’s always there. Mr. Hero, the professional hoverer. I tried so many times to get you alone, and when I found out about this place?” He smirked, twirling the gun around the empty room. “It seemed like the easiest way to take him out of the picture for good. I bring youhere, he comes to save you because he just can’t help himself… Then,boom. No more Hudson. Just you and me.”

My blood ran cold. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t I?” His eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer, the smirk falling away. “You think I’m just going to let him have you? No. Not a chance. You didn’t help him. You helped me, and I need you.”

The weight of his words settled on my chest like a boulder, crushing the air out of me. My mind raced, trying to find a way out, a way to stop this. But the only thing I knew for sure was that Hudson couldn’t walk into this house. He couldn’t. Because if he did, Rex wouldn’t hesitate.

And I couldn’t let him get hurt.

But… how could I stop Rex? I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t run. Well, I could, but my hands were still bound, and he had a gun.

I needed to stall. To buy time.

I swallowed hard. I’d been here before. Nothere-here, but in the orbit of someone unpredictable. Thanks to Dane, I’d learned that pushing too hard—or too fast—only made things worse. He might not have been as bad as his cellmate is turning out to be, but I’d still needed to navigate his emotional outbursts, and maybe that would come in handy now.

So… even if Rex wasn’t Dane, the rules still felt the same: cleverly placate—and don’t provoke.

I met Rex’s gaze, trying to keep my expression neutral. Not calm, because calm would come off as fake, but not completely panicked either. “You said that wasn’t for me,” I said, nodding toward the gun. My voice wavered, but I didn’t care. “So… then… what will happen to me? Are you going to… kill me?”

His lips curled into a slow smile, and it took everything I had not to flinch. “Sofia, I owe you my life. Kill you? No. I’m going tokeepyou.”

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