Page 95 of Fragile Sanctuary

“Got a note addressed to you. Opened it. Same fuckin’ clues.”

A million images flashed in my mind. The word games he loved to play with me. Box lettering that disguised his handwriting. But no fingerprints. No DNA. The guy was a ghost.

“It’s a copycat. It has to be.” There was no reason The Hangman would be back. Not now. Not when I’d stayed gone. Lived completely under the radar.

“It’shim,” Helena pushed. “There are too many details we never gave the press.”

My gut churned, sickness taking hold. I’d played by his rules. I’d stopped hunting him. I’d hidden away. But now he was back anyway, as if he had some sort of radar that told him I’d found a flicker of happiness. Something that gave me peace. And he couldn’t have that.

“We need you, Anson. You gotta come back,” Helena said, transforming her voice into that gentle tone she used with victims.

“No.” It was the only thing I could say. Nothing in this world could drag me back into the hell that returning to the FBI would be.

“Anson—”

“No,” I clipped.

“He’ll keep killing.”

I knew he would. Now that he’d started again, nothing would stop The Hangman until death found him. And that would just be another scarred mark on my soul. Another thing I’d blame myself for. But what was one more? I was already drowning in guilt anyway.

29

RHODES

I stareddown at my phone. The unanswered text message glared up at me, taunting.

Me

How about dinner in exchange for you helping me wrangle Biscuit into a bath? Steak and roasted potatoes… Maybe something else for dessert? ;-)

“What’d that phone do to you?”

Thea’s voice broke into my staredown. I quickly locked my screen and shoved the phone into my back pocket. “Boys are stupid.”

She arched a brow at that as she lifted another shrub from the back of a Gator and placed it in our display. “You say that like it’s a new discovery.”

I snorted. “You’ve got a point there.”

Thea paused as she reached for another plant, really taking me in. “Is that guy bothering you again?”

My brows pulled together. “Which guy?”

“Fancy-pants. Nice shoes, expensive watch.”

“Oh, Davis? No.” I hadn’t seen him since that scene outside TheMix Up. “Different troublemaker, and a whole different kind of trouble, actually.”

One corner of Thea’s mouth kicked up as she lifted another shrub. “Sounds like you mightlikethat kind of trouble.”

I grunted as I reached for another pot. “I like it a little too much, I think.”

I wasn’t sure I’d ever been thisinvested. And it made me twitchy.

A hint of worry swept away the amusement on Thea’s face. “Is he playing games?”

I shook my head. “He’s not a game player.” Anson wasn’t the type. But the fact that he hadn’t texted back had a niggle of worry working its way into the back of my brain. Did something happen? Had he changed his mind? Or was he just busy working and didn’t have his phone on him? Itwasthe middle of the day.

Setting down the shrub, I shoved it into position. “I’m not used to caring this much.”

---