Page 150 of Whispers and Wildfire

“Roswell,” I whispered.

The grin that stole over his features spoke volumes. I was right about his name and couldn’t have chosen a better opening line.

“I don’t use that name here. You remember?”

I nodded. “LA. You worked for the Sunset Theater. One of the regulars on the crew.”

The second part was a guess, but a reasonable one. Sunset had been known for retaining their crew members rather than hiring new ones for each show.

“That’s right.” There was a hint of pleasure in his voice.

I kind of hated not having a script for this, but I could ad lib with the best of them. “I thought you didn’t like me. You always ignored me.”

“No.” He lowered himself onto the floor and crossed his legs. “Is that what you thought?”

I nodded.

“Sweet Melanie.” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from my forehead.

It was all I could do not to flinch.

“I never disliked you,” he said in that eerie soft voice that made my skin crawl. “I wanted to be close to you, but you were so beautiful. So unapproachable. You weren’t the star of that show, but you were the star of mine.”

Rude. Way to rub it in that I’d missed out on the lead.

“I followed you. I knew where you went, every day. That coffee shop up the street from the theater before rehearsals. The market on the corner where you bought groceries. I thought about stopping to talk to you, but you never saw me.”

“How could I? You were hiding from me.”

His mouth lifted in a grin. “I suppose I was.”

I shifted, pulling at the bonds at my wrists. “This hurts.”

His smile disappeared. “No. I’m not untying you so you can kick me in the balls again.”

“I didn’t know.” The hint of panic in my voice wasn’t an act. It was hard to keep from losing it. “I didn’t know it was you. You didn’t tell me. I didn’t see your face.”

“No one sees me.” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “You’ll love me eventually, my sweetMelanie. You’ll learn. I’m a very patient man, and I’ve been planning this for a long time. There’s no need to rush. Eventually you’ll understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That you’re mine.”

Those words in Luke’s mouth had set me on fire. The same words from that psychopath turned my blood to ice.

“You’ve always been the one who got away. But you won’t get away from me again.” He glanced toward the stairs, as if something had caught his attention, and got to his feet. “I’d planned to stay here longer, but I think we’re going to have to leave soon. The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s the right thing to do. I need to get you away from here.”

“Where?”

“That’s not your concern.” He bent down and met my eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I will, if that’s what it takes. If you can be a good girl and stay quiet while I go upstairs, I’ll bring you a drink of water. If you can’t—if you make any noise at all—I won’t.”

He turned and went back up the stairs, quiet as a whisper.

CHAPTER 37

Luke

After the longestnight of my life, the sun had finally shown its face over the mountain peaks in the east. And Melanie was still missing.

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