Page 37 of Savage Stalkers
MOM
Dinner tomorrow at seven. Your stepfather wants to discuss what happened at the gala. Don’t be late.
There is no way I’m going.
I delete the message without responding, like I erased the other twelve messages she’s sent this week. I know what she wants to discuss: my inappropriate behavior at the gala, my rudeness to Preston, me disobeying Alexander and leaving with the guys after he told me to stay.
I stand up and walk to my window with a sigh. The truth is, I miss it, miss them. Miss the anticipation of not knowing when they’d appear next, the excitement of being hunted by someone. I miss feeling alive.
A knock on my bedroom door interrupts my thoughts. “Skye, are you okay in there?” Macey asks.
“Yeah, just studying,” I call back, even though the textbook lies closed on my bed.
“Adrian and I are going out for dinner if you want to join us. You’ve been living on coffee and granola bars all week.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
There’s a pause, then the sound of her soft footsteps retreating down the hallway. I know she’s worried about me—they both are. Yet how do I explain I’m mourning the loss of something I’m not even sure I should want?
Once I hear the front door close, I shuffle to the bathroom, glad I won’t have to answer any awkward questions. After I’m done, I look in the mirror as I wash my hands, noting the uncertainty swirling in my eyes. As I reenter my room, I turn to my bed and freeze. There’s now an envelope on my pillow.Cream-colored paper, with my name written across it in cursive. It wasn’t there five minutes ago.
My heart races as I pick up the envelope and open it to find a single card inside.
You’ve had a week to think. We are coming to collect what is ours.
Now is the time to choose.
I sink down onto my bed, with the card clutched in my hand. The smart thing would be to throw it away, change my locks, maybe even transfer schools. To start fresh, somewhere they can’t find me. But I’m so fucking tired of doing the smart thing. Of living my life according to everyone else’s expectations.
What about what I want?
What about the girl who signed a contract asking to be stalked? The woman who felt more herself in the arms of masked strangers than she ever did in designer gowns?
What about the part of me that’s been waiting my whole life for someone to see through the carefully constructed bullshit and want what’s underneath?
I look at the card again. Screw it. I grab a clean dress off the chair in the corner of my room and get dressed.
The lights cut out, and my entire room descends into pitch blackness.
My heart races. This is it.
Chapter Fifteen
Zay
The apartment’s electrical panel is easier to access than I expected. As always, Silas was thorough, mapping out every entry point, utility access, and every route through this building weeks ago. The obsessive bastard even knew which breaker controlled which rooms.
I flip the main switch, plunging the entire apartment into darkness.
“Power’s out,” I say through the earpieces that Kain insists we wear, then pull the purple glow mask over my face.
It’s been a week since we wore these, and it’s been hell watching Silas pace like a caged animal. He’s been checking the surveillance feeds he’s not supposed to access anymore and jumped every time his phone buzzed in case it was her, all while pretending he could let her go if that’s what she chose.
Deep down, we all knew it would come to this. This obsession might have started with Silas, but now it’s infected all of us. She’s under our skin, and there’s no going back.
I slip through the building’s rear entrance and make my way up the back stairwell as Kain’s voice crackles through the earpiece. “In position.”
“Same,” Silas responds quietly, and I can detect the anticipation in the smitten asshole’s voice even in that one word.
