Page 46 of Seducer

“What about the Obsidian Society? You’re not planning on participating. Are you?” Jacob was very pointed in his questions. Often, I was angry with myself for admitting anything. Yes, he would keep our discussions confidential, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t invaded my privacy more than once.

Although I was forced to admit he had a reason. I’d only admitted my evil deeds when I’d almost killed the wrong man. I’d come this close to carving him up like a tuna fish when I’d realized the mistaken identity. I’d been lucky I’d worn a mask, gloves, and unidentifiable clothes or my ass would be in prison. I’d needed to talk to someone since the rage had nearly consumed me.

And when I didn’t have an outlet, people who’d gotten in the way had often been hurt. If I’d been Jacob, I would have labeled my psychosis as having a split personality and stuck me in an asylum. He’d talked me down, able to return my calm demeanor.

“That’s a company decision, buddy. I told you that.”

“Brant pushing you isn’t helping.”

“He’s a guy on a mission and thinks he can use what he read in a newspaper.”

Jacob sighed. “I get it, but he could possibly cause your company trouble.”

“We can handle it and this has nothing to do with that waitress.” My precious kitty. I was hungry once again.

“Don’t kid a man like me, Zach. I saw the way you looked at that waitress. She’s your type.”

“I didn’t know I had a type.”

He laughed. “You do. Why don’t you just ask her out on a date? Did you ever think of that?”

“Bor-ring. Are you certain you don’t want to partake in what the games have to offer?”

“You forget. I get enough crazy. No pun intended.”

Now I laughed. “Stop worrying. I’m fine. In fact, I’m feeling damn good.”

“O-kay, if you say so, but if the nightmares return, call me.”

“Yes, Doc. I need to run.”

“Take care of yourself, Zach. I don’t want to worry.” Jacob meant he didn’t want to feel pressured to turn me in to the police.

“Will do.” I slid the phone into my jacket and sighed. The nightmares hadn’t returned, but the edginess had. My sweet kitten had affected me. I allowed the word salvation to linger. Maybe she was the one.

Information was often the key to conquering a dynasty.

I’d heard that from a professor many years before. It had been his way of convincing his students to keep their noses to the grindstone. I’d done so only because everything had come easily to me. I’d preferred the perks of being an athlete, including having women fawn all over me.

But even being the top dog had grown boring after a year or so. Mack had been a star quarterback. We’d hit it off immediately.He had his share of groupies as well. We’d considered ourselves the princes of the university.

It was interesting where boredom had taken us. Pranks had led to petty theft, but the acts had barely nurtured our souls and not for very long.

Going after women we had no business attempting to capture had come later.

We’d made it a game, attempting to find a way of luring the most beautiful or the wealthiest woman in town into a brief but passionate love affair. Some of the women had been married. That hadn’t stopped us.

Over the last year of school, we’d been damn lucky we hadn’t gotten shot between the eyes. I’d learned several lessons during that time including the best methods of stalking. That had to do with learning everything about the chosen target. Absolutely everything. That had taken planning and skill. Once I had a name, I’d begun what I’d believed was a brilliant plan.

The easiest aspect involved social media.

That was the moment the Seducer had been born. Mack had used Mr. Big for whatever reason. We’d referred to ourselves that way during our adventures. And they’d been fascinating.

Socialites were often narcissists, needing adoring fans posing as friends to compliment everything about them. Their style of attire. Their latest hairstyle. Their new vacation home. If I ran a security firm, I’d tell those who posted on any form of social media to guard their personal life with due diligence. Few did.

Criminals took advantage of that.

Sara Capshaw.

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