Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
I let out a heavy breath, feeling as though that went just about as well as it could have gone. I mean, she’s going to drill me tomorrow night for every last sordid detail, wanting to know exactly how it all went down and how I ended up dating my stalker. Then once I’ve done that, she’s going to get me drunk on tequila, take me back to my apartment, and have me act out every last scene, but it’s fine, especially considering that there will be a crazy, obsessive stalker watching me through my security feed. Though, knowing his eyes will be on me, only makes it that much better.
Putting my phone back down, I switch out my gloves for a new pair before settling back on my stool and picking up the tattoo gun. “Sorry,” I tell him. “She would have started to panic if she didn’t hear from me soon.”
“It’s fine,” he tells me. “Though I was hoping to spend all of tomorrow night inside that sweet cunt of yours, but I guess it’s going to have to wait.”
I roll my eyes and take sweet satisfaction out of the way he gasps when I press the tattoo gun back to his chest. “Weren’t you about to tell me about your mom?”
“Shit. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Nope. Memory like an elephant,” I tell him. “Though, I don’t want to pry. I don’t need you to spill the dirty details. I just need to know if it’s true. Did she really die of a drug overdose when you were deployed?”
Alex holds my stare, the silent seconds passing between us holding so much weight. “No,” he finally tells me. “She died in my arms after I tore her heart right out of her body.”
My hand falters over his chest, and I swallow hard, my heart pounding. “Shit.”
“Mm-hmm,” he says. “I don’t have any intentions of lying to you, Kyah. If this is going to work between us, then you need to fully understand what you’re getting yourself into, but you shouldn’t take that for granted. Don’t ask me questions if you are not prepared to know the answers.”
“And what happens if I don’t like the answers I’m getting and decide that I can’t do this with you?”
He presses his lips into a hard line. “If only you knew just how much of my time that question takes up,” he admits. “I honestly don’t know. I wish I were the kind of man who could just accept that you didn’t want to be with me and walk away. But then I run the risk that you would be out in the world, knowing all these things about me, and I am not sure if that’s in my best interest.”
“You would kill me?”
“It would be the smart thing to do, but if it really came down to it, I don’t think I’d have the strength to follow through,” he admits. “Either way, I don’t believe it will be an issue because whether you wanted to be with me or not, I would not be capable of letting you go.”
I nod, working on his shading to help keep my mind at ease. “But you wanted to kill me, right? When you first started following me.”
“Absolutely, I did,” he tells me in that thick, rich tone, his body tensing beneath my hands. “When I first saw you, I knew immediately that you would be my next victim. I dropped everything I was doing and followed you. I had to know everything about you, and over the next few weeks, I learned everything there was to know about Kyah Bailey. The more I learned and the closer I got, the hungrier I became. I had it all planned out so perfectly. You were going to be my most thrilling kill yet.”
“When did it change?” I whisper, my heart pounding a million miles an hour.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he muses, deep in thought. “Perhaps it was after I met you in the hallway and you raced me down to the laundry room. I knew then that there was something more to you, and I needed to explore it, but I suppose things really shifted after I realized just how much you got off on the fear. You excite me, Kyah. No woman has ever done that before. The ones I’ve killed in the past have been a means to an end, an object to use in order to get off. Taking their lives was a rush, but I don’t need the rush of murder with you, not anymore. I get that rush just by seeing your face in the morning, and when I slide inside of you, it’s better than any kill I’ve ever had.”
My gaze lifts to his, and I stop what I’m doing, my hand hovering just an inch above his chest. “I don’t know what to make of that,” I tell him honestly. “There’s a part of you that terrifies me. Knowing exactly what you’re capable of and having to spend my days hoping that you won’t change your mind. But then there’s this other part that is terrified of not seeing where this goes. I should be trying to run from you.”