Page 52 of His Dark Vices

The sound of the elevator moving makes me almost jump out of my skin with a gasp. I try to calm my breathing, but my heart only beats faster. I'm about to confront him again on his turf. But for a murderer, is there anywhere that would be safer? Should I have called him to Cozy Cup to have a casual chat about crime?

No, no, that's the wrong thing to think. He wouldn't kill me.

Would he?

The doors start to open, so I whip around, my eyes wide with uncontained emotion. A wave of yearning ripples through me as I take in the exhaustion in his face, same as when I saw him last. His stubble tells me he hasn't shaved, and by how he hesitates in the elevator, I can tell security didn't warn him I was here.

"What happened to your parents?"

The words race out of my mouth. I've been thinking about them ever since Danica texted me—but my voice trembles. As Sam pulls the beanie off his head, his eyes flick to my hands. I don't know what to do with them. They're fluttering in front of my chest up and down and shaking. I make fists and shove them to my sides.

He calmly removes his jacket and kicks out of his shoes before saying anything.

"Do you think I did it?" he asks, tiredly.

This is the last thing he wants to deal with, that much is apparent. But I ignore the pang of guilt and charge ahead.

"I know they just got out of prison. I know why they went in the first place, and I know they were pieces of shit. As for whether you did it, all I know is how you looked when I saw you last. You said you had some things to take care of. Was it killing them?" I break off and turn away from him, looking around the open space for a clue. "I don't know what to think!"

"They were found dead in a hotel," he says quietly.

"I know that!" I snap, turning back to him. "Did you do it?"

Sam lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his hand over his face. He massages his eyelids as he speaks. "It depends, I guess. I didn't kill them with my bare hands, no."

I don't have a good feeling about what that means. I fold my arms across my chest just as he rests his back against the wall opposite me.

"But I did provide them the luxury they were asking for. To celebrate their release from prison, I had the hotel furnished with the very best liquor, hard shit. They killed themselves. I just facilitated it." Sam finishes with a shrug, crossing his own arms across his chest. His head dips heavily to the left as he regards me.

"Do you think that absolves you of anything?!" I explode, throwing my arms into the air. "Are you a good person just because you didn't pour it down their throats yourself?"

"I'm only telling you what happened."

"Oh, yeah," I scoff, feeling myself harden. "Like you told me about how you were stalking me?"

With satisfaction, I watch the color drain out of his face. Yeah, that's what I thought.

"When I came over on Saturday, you gave yourself away. You thought I had a date on Sunday, but that was just to get you to react, to give it away that you were monitoring my data. I didn't meet anyone, it was all fake. And there was no way you shouldhave known about it. Just like you shouldn't have known about my Christmas plans. Didn't even realize that one, did you?"

Sam lowers his eyes to the floor, nodding at my words in defeat. I watch him work his tongue across his teeth, then bite hard on his lip.

"You got me," he finally says. "Yeah, I've been spying on you."

"How long?"

"For a long time."

"The whole time? When did it start? How did you even come across me?"

"You want to hear all this now?"

"I don't want to hear this at all!" I yell, throwing my arms up again. "Are you kidding? The last thing I want to know is that you've been… fucking stalking me for years! Why? Why me?"

"It's complicated," he says quietly.

"So it's been for years." A mirthless laugh escapes my lips, and I turn away toward the living room. There's so much emotion in me that I can't help but to pace, walking back and forth as I try to read between these shitty lines. "You… so are you the reason I couldn't keep a date?"

"I didn't hurt them," he admits quickly, flatly, staring through the floor.

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