Page 123 of Stalker

Cassandra

Even if I managed to escape physically, mentally I’d remain a prisoner.

That was clear to see.

“It’s not what he wrote exactly that bothered me. It was how he put the words together, the possessiveness in them. I swear to God, I felt like you were standing behind me. You really didn’t message me on Sugar Babies?” I had no idea what to think any longer. In all the years I’d prosecuted complex, brutal cases, what I’d heard was the creation of the worst nightmares.

“No, Cassandra. I didn’t.”

“The nickname, the Stalker. How would he know that was your moniker?”

He shrugged. “I’ve used it with certain situations I’ve handled over the years. It’s possible someone breathed the name to the wrong person.”

I didn’t necessarily buy he’d been that careless, but he had no reason to further lie to me. He’d admitted being in my condo.

“But there’s a video of me you found on Drew Monahan’s computer.”

“Yes, there was. It was the last video in a collection of them.”

“Which you emailed to yourself.”

Wilder exhaled. “Only your video.”

“Did you delete it from his collection?” I studied his reaction and it was fascinating to watch his possessive nature with me remaining firm even when it only involved a video.

“I did. You’re mine.”

At least I could breathe a little easier, even if I wanted to argue I didn’t belong to him. I closed my eyes, chastising myself for the suggestion and hope. I was an officer of the law. Oh, my God.

“You should rest,” he said.

“I don’t know how I can.”

The night had seemed endless, the lightning continuing to dance across the moonless sky.

There’d been no sleep, no real sense of peace. The joy I’d felt in being spanked and fucked by a self-appointed monster had weighed heavily on my mind.

He’d been oh-so thoughtful in kidnapping me, even stuffing a duffle bag full of some clothes and toiletries taken from my home. The entire situation was surreal.

But the knowledge that there was someone else out there, a monster attempting to lure me into a deadlier game was even worse. I could barely think clearly, the thought driving my anxiety to an even higher level than before.

“There were other videos, other women?” I tipped my head toward him, searching his face. His expression was devoid of the earlier emotion.

“Yes, there were others. I believe that’s how the girls were chosen. I would imagine if the detective working on the investigation looks into Drew’s history he will see a distinct correlation.”

It was still unfathomable I’d been on the list.

I closed my eyes, envisioning the very video that had placed a target on my head. “Another girl was found dead. It’s questionable as to whether Drew had the opportunity to take another life or if he was already behind bars.”

“Drew isn’t the killer, sweet butterfly. I think we both know who is.”

“Your father.”

“Yes.”

“Whether that’s true or not, he needs to be apprehended. I can ensure that happens.”

His sigh was heavier. “You can’t and you won’t. Period.”

---