Page 47 of Stalker

I’d graduated first in my class, for God’s sake. I’d passed the bar the first time without any issues. I’d interned at an incredible firm before being offered the position in the prosecutor’s office.

I’d been the youngest attorney they’d ever hired. I’d proven myself time and time again. Did Mr. Wells have any idea this was what would be expected of me? Maybe he did. Maybe he’d known damn good and well I’d be treated like an animal.

Whatever the case, I’d reached my limit.

Yet every time I told myself that, my mind went back to the conversation I’d had with Mr. Wells. The file he’d sent had been… disturbing to say the least.

He’d collected information for years, providing me with a dossier he’d put together on the boys’ father, information on the Blackwell brothers, and his thoughts on the Obsidian Society and notes from the case he’d worked as a young detective.

The very detective who hadn’t taken Ava, the mother’s story seriously.

The man was experiencing serious guilt about the mother’s death. From what I’d read, Ava Blackwell had suffered before she’d died. Even worse, the three children, all very young at the time, had been found covered in their mother’s blood.

Even now, I couldn’t get the image of the single photograph he’d provided of the scene of the crime out of my mind.

Even more disturbing was that there truly was almost nothing about what had happened to the children after they’d been placed in foster care. I was no expert on the system, but I suspected the circumstances of why they’d needed to find loving homes had been leaked. If so, the kids could have been labeled as potentially being a problem.

The three-year-old boy had potentially remembered something, but a one-year-old? I was no psychologist so I couldn’t say for certain.

There were also a few scattered notes Maximus had written about several disappearances over the years, not all of them based out of Chicago. Did that mean the boys had also been separated by state? Geez. Now I was buying into the fact that all three children had turned into murderous monsters, eliminating anyone who’d abused them. There was no logical reason for his or my thoughts since there was no real evidence.

Sure, my boss had discovered a couple of newspaper articles on some fairly brutal murders, but how was I to know if that person found mutilated and dead had been responsible for any of the boys?

Suddenly, a huge lump formed in my throat and more than a hint of fear crept into my mind. The three men could easily be very dangerous. I took several deep breaths, but the feeling wasn’t going away.

This was not the right way of going about finding any dirt on them or the company.

I found myself backing away from the group, finally getting the attention of one of the men who stood around in dark clothing and plain black masks. This was like some execution game, not a hunt.

Or maybe both.

No, I couldn’t do this. Fuck their rules. As much as I’d found myself excited about the prospect given my own dark secrets, I just couldn’t go through with it. I’d lose more of myself than I already had with the videos. The nagging part of me was quick to remind me that no matter how the story was spun, if anyone got ahold of a single video or that I’d been involved in the hunt, not even Mr. Wells would be able to save me from crucifixion in the press.

“I’m not going on the hunt. Thank you for the offer, but I refuse to be treated this way. As required, I’ll honor the terms of the nondisclosure to the letter. However, I won’t be forced into this sick game.”

A man standing watch behind a horrible mask with glowing x’s for eyes, a nose, and a wide grin studied me carefully before speaking. “You are not being held captive, Lady Butterfly. You are free to go.”

A pleasant surprise.

His voice was deep, full of a seductive tone. I shuddered after hearing his answer and folded my arms.

“Thank you.” Why had it been almost disappointing when he’d said I wouldn’t be held captive? How many fantasies had I experienced about that very activity over the years? How many dark romance novels had I read? Too many. Obviously. I was a little warped in my mind.

The pull to remain was strong, but my resolve was something I refused to give up.

I had no idea what I was doing, but I turned away, determined to get the hell out of here before I made a bigger fool of myself. I took off walking. None of the masked men attempted to stop me. There were no beasts jumping from the shadows preventing me from walking away.

Alone.

Moving further into the dark.

No one tried to stop me. There was no chasing of me, shackling me as I’d suspected. I was simply being allowed to walk away.

Suddenly, a crackle of electricity swept right to my core.

“There is no reason to be frightened.”

The voice came from the darkness, strong and deep, yet barely more than a rugged whisper. However, the sound stopped me in my tracks, the softness enveloping every inch of me. It was being purposely disguised, but that was part of the game. Right?

---