Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (35 page)

The knife had wound up in that frat boy’s throat.

“Oh, Evelyn…” His sigh was sad. “You didn’t kill for me. You did all of that for
you.
”

“We’re alike!” she told him, desperate for him to see. There wasn’t anything damaged about her. She was stronger, better, just like him. They were a match. “We survived. We grew stronger.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Yes.

“I can be better for you than Kat.” Her words came so quickly. “I can be just what you need. I can be
everything
—”

“Kat was abused when she was a kid. Hurt, again and again. She didn’t…” His eyes were on the knife. “She didn’t turn out like us.”

“Kat’s weak. She jumps at her own shadow. She—”

His head snapped up. Rage was boiling in his eyes. Scaring her. “She’s stronger than you are. Stronger than all the others. Unbroken. Pure. She wasn’t like the other women.”

The women he’d killed in Boston? Or had there been even more?

Jealousy twisted her gut.

“The others didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. Kat did. Kat cared. She…
loved me.
”

“No!” The denial burst from her. “She loved who she thought you were! I love you!” All of him.

“Kat’s good,” he whispered. “She didn’t do drugs, didn’t whore herself out like the others who had our piss-fucking-poor start in life. She was better.” A muscle jerked in his jaw. “She made me want to be better.”

“You
are
better—”

“And you tried to kill her.” His eyes blazed.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“You think I didn’t know it was you? You with your drugs. Such a fucking sloppy way to kill. First Savannah, then Amy. Then you went after my Kat.”

Rage splintered her. “Katherine is
not
better than me!” Kat was as damaged as they came. Evelyn knew she should have killed that scrawny bitch months ago. The first time Trent had looked at her.

Trent.

“You killed Trent,” Evelyn said. At first, she truly had been devastated by Trent’s death. She’d never planned for him to die, but when she realized what his death truly meant—

Valentine was there.

Her pain had faded then, and she’d taken the necessary steps to eliminate Kat. Only Kat hadn’t died.

“I’ve killed a lot of different people.” Deliberately vague. He used the knife to cut open her shirt.

She wasn’t afraid. “Trent Lancaster. I thought maybe Kat had done it…but it was
you.”

“He shouldn’t have hurt her.”

He’d killed Trent for Kat? Her own rage blossomed. “She wasn’t worth his life.”

The blade of the knife pressed against her bra strap. “You hate my Kat, don’t you?”

She held her tongue.
Yes. As long as she’s around, you’ll be tied to her.
“You don’t need her any longer.” Why couldn’t he understand? “You have me. I won’t ever judge you. I can help you. Protect you.” That was why she’d become a psychiatrist. To protect herself. To learn to see the weakness in others. “Just get these ropes off me. I can offer you so much. I can—”

He drove the knife into her chest. She cried out, choking as the pain flooded her. Valentine bent and put his lips near her ear. “I know you planned to go after Kat next. I know about your stepmother, I know about the college boy, I know about the old bastard you drowned in the pool.” His lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “I know everything about you, Dr. Knight. And you are
not
what I need.” He twisted the blade.

“I…love…” Her fingers wouldn’t move. The ropes didn’t hurt any longer.

Her body felt cold. Already. She was chilled and she wanted some cover to warm her.

She’d loved him. Believed that she’d found someone who would understand…

“You thought you’d hurt Kat.” The rage was roughening his voice once more. “No one hurts her.”

Fixated. He was too locked on Kat.

Just as I was too locked on Valentine.

He wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t the man she needed. Wasn’t the perfect man who could understand her secrets.

He
was
darkness. He was death.

Her lashes fell closed.

The knife twisted again, but this time, Evelyn didn’t feel the pain. She was far past feeling anything at all.

Dane kicked open the door of the psychiatry office. Mac was on his heels as he raced inside.

And Dane could smell blood.

He heard a faint gurgle, a groan of sound…

He ran forward, gun drawn, rushing toward the closed door to Evelyn’s office.

Another kick, and the door was open.

The scent of blood was so much stronger.

“Fuck,” Mac muttered.

“Put your hands up!” Dane yelled as he took in the scene before him.

Evelyn, tied down on her own desk. Blood all around her. And a man leaned over her. The man’s back was to Dane, but he seemed damn familiar.

His hands began to rise. There was no weapon in his hands because his knife was embedded in Evelyn’s chest.

“Step away from her,” Dane ordered.

The man backed up.

Dane hurried forward. Felt for a pulse on Evelyn’s neck.

“You arrived too late,” the man said. “That’s what Kat did too, years ago. Always too late…”

He finally turned to face Dane.

And Dane
knew
that face.

The brown eyes. The broken nose. This guy had claimed to be Katherine’s friend. This guy was dating the captain’s fucking daughter.

He was staring at Ben Miller.

Sirens yelled in the distance.

“You look surprised,” Ben murmured, smiling. “Kat looked that way when she found me with Stephanie. Surprised, shocked…” He took a step forward.

“Take one more step, and I’ll put a bullet in your heart,” Dane told him.

Valentine raised his brows. “Would you shoot an unarmed man?”

“If that unarmed bastard was you, hell yes, I would.”

And he would. It was all part of the darkness that rested inside him.

Valentine smiled. “I knew you were like that. You’re not the hero. Kat is so wrong about you.”

Mac grabbed the guy’s arms and began to handcuff him while Dane kept the bastard locked in his sights.

“Don’t fucking talk about her,” Dane snarled.

“Why? Afraid she’ll realize you’re as twisted as me? As screwed as—”

Dane lunged toward him. “I know you want me to pull the trigger.”

“What
you
want.” Valentine flinched when Mac tightened the cuffs. “You both want me dead. But the badges that you wear won’t let you just shoot me and walk away.”

Valentine glanced over his shoulder at Mac. Sweat beaded Mac’s temples. “That little ME…I warned her about what would happen if she talked.”

“You won’t hurt her!” Mac shouted.

“Maybe I won’t be the one who goes after her.” Valentine shrugged. “Maybe it will be one of my fans. Take a look on the Internet. So many people out there, desperate for a taste of power. I bet I could get them to do anything for me.”

And it was true. Dammit. With a few careful words, another copycat would be born.
Aim and kill.

Mac’s breath heaved. “You
won’t
—”

“Valentine!” Dane snarled, drawing the killer’s focus back to him. Mac was on a razor’s edge. He wouldn’t let his partner lose control.

And he wouldn’t let Valentine take control from them.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Dane began. His gaze shot to Mac’s. “Call for backup. Tell them we’ve got the bastard.”

Valentine’s body had tensed.

“Anything you fucking say will be held against you,” Dane continued. He was close to the killer now, and he stared straight into the guy’s eyes.

But Valentine laughed. “I won’t be staying in jail, so it doesn’t matter what I say.”

Mac shoved the man forward. “You’re never getting out. They’re gonna shove you in a hole so deep, you won’t see daylight again.”

Valentine didn’t stop smiling, and as he finished reading the bastard his rights, Dane couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end for the serial killer.

Not yet.

“The captain sure has a pretty daughter,” Valentine murmured as they shoved him toward the door. “Not as beautiful as my Kat, but I’ve sure enjoyed getting to know her.”

The prick. The captain was still in the hospital, in the ICU. Dane had tried to reach Maggie, but he’d been told she was out of town for a seminar.

“Though I don’t know if sweet Maggie enjoyed getting to know me as much.”

She’s not out of town.
Fuck. Dane’s hold tightened on the killer. “What have you done?”

Valentine’s gaze cut to him. “I guess you’ll have to just wait and find out, won’t you, Detective?”

Katherine tensed when the doors to the high-rise swung open. A security guard was in the lobby—he’d given Dane and Mac access to the offices moments before.

Now the man was scrambling outside. He had a radio in his hand, and it looked like he was calling for help.

“Sonofabitch,” Marcus whispered as he shoved open the door of his vehicle. “They got him.”

She’d been sitting in the car with Marcus. Dane had refused to let her go into the building, and Marcus had been given guard duty. But when she caught sight of three more men coming out of those swinging doors, Katherine shoved her way out of the vehicle.

Sirens screamed in the distance, coming closer and closer. Backup for the detectives, racing to the scene.

Dark shadows concealed much of the men as they walked toward Katherine. Marcus took up a position beside her, and she saw him draw out his weapon.

Her eyes narrowed as she strained to see.

Dane…Dane’s strong shoulders. His determined walk. He was okay.

And—that was Mac, on the far left. Holding tight to their prisoner.

Brakes squealed behind Katherine. The cavalry had arrived.

She didn’t look back. She was too busy straining to see the face of the man who was held by both Dane and Mac.

The man who—

She
knew.

They’d just stepped under one of the streetlights. Katherine’s heart seemed to stop in that instant as her gaze swept over the man’s face.

It wasn’t the face of the man she’d known as Michael O’Rourke. Michael had been classically handsome. High cheekbones. A straight bridge of a nose. Dark hair.

This man—he looked
nothing
like Valentine.

Maybe that was why she had seen him so many times, again and again, and hadn’t realized…

Katherine was staring right at the man she knew as Ben Miller. Bodybuilder Ben with his easy smile. The guy who’d always been at the café in the morning, grabbing breakfast right after he worked out.

Always at the café…
waiting on me.

Always there…
watching me.

He was wearing contact lenses. That was why his eyes had been dark, not the green she remembered. Contacts
and
fake glasses. The glasses had been an extra deception to throw her off. They’d made his eyes look bigger, but now, without them, she could see that his eye shape…it was the same.

“Hello, Kat.” He’d dropped the fake Southern drawl, the rumble that had always slid beneath Ben’s words.

His nose was different—the bridge wider, with a heavy bump in the middle. His cheeks were fuller, his jaw more rounded. Even his lips were different. What had he done? Injected them with collagen? He’d dyed his hair. Let it grow so much longer. Long enough to curl lightly. Michael—he’d always kept his hair almost too short before.

“Did you miss me?” he asked softly.

Uniform cops swarmed him. Dane and Mac kept their grip on the killer and pushed him toward the back of a patrol car.

“I missed you,” Valentine called out to her. “Missed you so much that I had to get close again.”

How many times had they had breakfast together? He’d been just feet from her, all those days…

And she hadn’t known.

“No one else has ever been as perfect for me as you, no one else was good enough—”

Dane slammed the door, halting Valentine’s words. A uniform was already behind the wheel of the car. Mac jumped in the front passenger seat. The siren screamed on as the vehicle rolled forward.

Another patrol car was moving behind that vehicle. A motorcycle pulled in front, leading the line.