Vengeful Shadows (23 page)

“You have no idea who’s behind this?” he asked as gently as he could. He’d kill him. He’d kill the bastard before he laid a finger on her.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I can’t think of anyone who would do this.”

“Not even Weston?” The thought of the other man made him sick. The son-of-a-bitch deserved to pay for what he put Tessa through. Who knew how many other women had suffered at his hands? Judging from his behavior tonight, he obviously enjoyed tormenting others. Was he sick enough to continue harassing her? More importantly, was he twisted enough to hurt her again?

“He’s got too much riding on his partnership with Daddy to risk it,” Tessa began. “Besides, he’s an opportunist. This situation requires more effort than he’s ever put into anything—except maybe kissing up to my parents.”

“What about the police?” he asked. “Have you contacted them?”

Julia had received threats by both mail and phone before she died. She and Nikolas had reported it to the police, but that had been an exercise in futility. The authorities’ hands were tied. Approval to tap a phone line took an Act of God and Federal Court. The two entities didn’t communicate much.

His brother and sister-in-law had been informed, time and time again, that the police had neither the money nor the manpower to provide surveillance, but they’d be happy to come out if the offender was caught in the act. They’d advised Nikolas and Julia to invest in a state-of-the-art security system and a guard dog.

Their college-student budget didn’t allow for a security system, but they’d gotten a dog. It hadn’t helped. Julia was still dead.

“I called the police,” Tessa said, returning him to the present. “They’re on their way, now.” She shook her head. “He’s probably harmless. Just someone with a weird hobby.”

Zander could tell from her tone she didn’t believe it.

“What else has he sent you?”

She stiffened in his embrace. “A couple ribbons, sleazy underwear…handcuffs.” Her voice caught on the last word, and she swallowed hard.

He tightened his grip on her, and she sank into the shelter of his arms. He’d protect her somehow. There was no way he’d let her suffer Julia’s fate. He glanced back at the note.

You took mine away. Soon, I’ll take yours.

He nodded toward it. “What does that refer to?”

She laughed, a choked, slightly hysterical sound. “The only thing I’ve ever taken away is a library card.”

He reached over to turn on a lamp.

She caught his hand. “Don’t. He might be watching.”

A knock on the door startled her, and she cringed. An expression of obvious disgust twisted her features. She pushed from his arms. Zander rose, following her.

“Who is it?” she called.

“Police, ma’am,” came the terse reply.

Tessa peered through the peephole before unlatching the deadbolt.

Two uniformed officers stepped inside and surveyed the room. After Zander and Tessa had answered a few preliminary questions and had their own fingerprints taken for exclusionary purposes, she showed them the note.

The surly-looking cop dusted everything in sight with graphite powder, covering her home with a fine, gray film. Using tape, he meticulously lifted prints off every surface and placed them on small white cards, before he labeled each one.

His female partner sat with Tessa and gently interviewed her about every detail. They combed the new note, searching for any clues to its meaning. The officer managed to simultaneously soothe and coax answers from Tessa. It wasn’t hard to guess which one played good cop and bad cop in any given scenario.

The smell of graphite reminded Zander too clearly of the hours after they’d found Julia’s body. He focused on the answers Tessa gave, willing away his own memories.

“Was there anything in particular that stood out about any of the items?” the police officer asked.

“The ribbon and underwear smelled like cologne and cigarette smoke.”

Zander noticed Tessa’s hands were clenched so tightly, her nails dug into her palms.

“And the handcuffs?”

“There was dried blood on the metal and long blonde hair tangled in the chain.”

Shock kicked Zander in the gut. Why hadn’t she told him about that?

“Where are they now?” the other woman asked.

“I gave them to Detective Duritz.”

Zander’s mind reeled. As he listened to Tessa describe the timeline of events, he realized she’d asked him out the same day she’d received the first note. Coincidence? Not likely.

Tessa locked the door after the police left. She glanced at Zander. He’d begun cleaning the mess left behind by the fingerprint powder, his expression inscrutable.

What was he thinking? After everything he’d found out tonight, she was surprised he hadn’t run in the opposite direction. Yet. The thought of his retreat bruised her heart, but maybe, it was better to get it over.

“You…” She had to clear her throat to finish the sentence. “You don’t have to do that. I can get it.”

He kept wiping the gray dust off her belongings.

“Look,” she started. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this whole freak show.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze. A shiver coursed through her body at the hardness in his eyes. They glittered, a dangerous shade of green.

“Don’t feel like you have to stay and deal with…” She gestured around the room. “This. It’s been a long couple of days. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”

He squeezed the rag in his hand. His knuckles whitened. “You actually think I’m going to leave you alone with some sicko stalking you?” He slapped the cloth on the mantel. “Just because the majority of the men you know are assholes, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” He smiled, but it looked like more of a grimace to her. “Is that why you didn’t tell me what was going on? You thought you couldn’t trust me.”

Nausea roiled in her stomach. She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“Maybe you even considered me a suspect,” he continued.

“No! This isn’t your crisis. I don’t expect you to take care of me.”

“Maybe, that’s part of your problem, angel.”

Anger fought for dominance over fear and confusion. In the end, it won. “What’s my problem, professor? Care to enlighten me?”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t trust anyone. You refuse to lean on anyone else. Let someone take care of you once in a while.” His expression softened slightly. “Would it be so bad to take a chance?”

Chapter Fourteen

Tessa couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t listen to Zander talk about chances, as if they actually had one.

She wished their relationship could be real. She wanted to let him in, to tell him everything. To share her fears with him. To share her love. But she couldn’t. She wanted it even more than she wanted her mother’s love. But wishing wouldn’t make it happen. The most she could give Zander was her body. She wasn’t sure she had anything else left. And besides, he might be talking about chances, but his reaction to the frat boys pretty much told her everything she needed to know. He was worried about her because he was kind, but when the danger was past, what then?

“You haven’t answered me. Would it be so bad to take a chance on us?”

She gripped the back of a dining room chair for support. The engraved design bit into her fingertips, but she welcomed the pain. It kept her focused on what she needed to do—end their sham of a relationship before her heart was completely shredded.

As much as she might want to believe there was a chance at a real relationship, she couldn’t let herself go there. She had so much baggage, and in the end, it would only weigh them both down. He deserved so much more—someone who wasn’t completely broken. “There is no us,” she said softly. “This was about tenure, remember?”

“That changed the first time I kissed you.” He shook his head, a rueful smile curving his lips. “No, it happened long before that. I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself. Or anyone else.”

He paused and looked at her as if waiting for her to respond. When she didn’t, he continued. “We can talk about this later. Right now, you need to grab your stuff.”

“What?”

“There’s no way you’re staying here. Not until this sick fuck is caught or there are some security measures in place.”

It made sense. The guy had gotten in once, he could definitely do it again. But she wasn’t sure about staying with Zander. What if the guy tried to get to her there? What if he hurt Zander? She couldn’t live with herself if anything happened to him.

She knew that he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. He’d put himself in danger. For her. The panic she’d experienced when he searched her apartment multiplied exponentially. A violent criminal had been inside her home, and Zander had looked for him, heedless of any jeopardy he might be in.

“You don’t have to do this,” she repeated.

“Do what? Care about you? Too damn late for that.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. “Don’t you think that maybe you’re confusing being worried about me for feelings for me?”

The hurt that flashed across his eyes twisted her heart. He studied her as if he could figure out all of her secrets. She only had one left, her love for him, and she was holding on to that secret with both hands.

“Push me away as much as you want, but you’re stuck with me.” He crossed his arms over his chest as if daring her to try dissuading him.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” she blurted. By her stalker or her. Her chest ached with fear for him. “I can just—”

“If you finish that sentence with ‘stay in a hotel’, I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you out of here. Please, Tess. Just get your stuff. The rest will sort itself out.”

Suggesting a hotel was exactly what she’d been about to say. He obviously knew her too well.

“I don’t want you to get hurt either. Now get your stuff together, or I’ll be picking out your wardrobe for work tomorrow.” She stared at him, too drained to argue anymore. The truth was the only place she wanted to be was with him. Without another word, she lifted her backpack off the hook by the door and headed into her room. Zander followed close behind. She shoved clothes and a few toiletries inside.

He took the bag from her and slung it over his shoulder while she grabbed her purse and keys then followed him to his place. Setting her stuff down, he locked the door behind her then pulled her into his arms. “Thank you.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “For what?”

“For trusting me enough to stay here with me.” Taking her hand, he pulled her to the couch and drew her down with him.

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it, but I
do
trust you.” She didn’t resist when he put his arm around her. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. There was part of me that thought I could handle it on my own.” And as much as she hated to admit it, there was some shame there. Intellectually, she knew there shouldn’t be, but everything that had happened after Weston had somehow gotten tangled up with what was happening now.

“What’s the other part?” he asked.

She shrugged. “With you, I didn’t have a past. I was just Tessa. I wasn’t broken. Stupid as it sounds now, I guess I just wanted to hang on to that feeling a little longer.”

His arms tightened around her, and he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Your past is part of what makes you who you are—part of what makes the woman I’m crazy about.”

Her heart ached. She wanted to believe him. No matter how their romance had started out, she wanted what was between them to be real.

He stroked the hair from her eyes, and she laid her head against his chest. His gaze held her immobile. “I’m sorry I freaked earlier. You’re not the first woman I’ve loved who’s been stalked.”

“What?” Tessa asked, lifting her head to look at him. She didn’t know if she was questioning the other-woman-stalking-thing or the part where he said he loved her. He had said that, hadn’t he? Hopefully, it hadn’t been part of her desperately-in-love-overactive-imagination. Better to go with a simple “what?” rather than ask for clarification and risk humiliation.

“I said, another woman I knew was stalked.”

She
had
imagined the love part. “Who?”

“My sister-in-law, Julia. That’s what killed her.”

Her heart pitched in her chest. “The one who was pregnant when she died?”

He nodded. Grief etched his features.

The anguish his family must have endured—was likely still enduring. How did one recover from something like that? Her heart ached for them. For him. She’d give anything to be able to wash away his pain. “I’m so sorry.” She framed his face with her hands. “This has got to be so hard for you.”

“Damn it, Tess!” His fingers convulsed on her shoulders as if he were trying desperately not to shake her. “You’re the one I’m worried about.”

“Whoever it is, is probably just trying to scare me.” It was a stupid thing to say. She didn’t even know why she’d said it other than to lighten the mood.

“Julia thought that, too, at first. Now, she’s dead.” His tone had grown remote and uncompromising. “I don’t want to come home to find you in a cold pool of blood.”

Despite her best efforts, she gasped in horror. The fear she’d thought she’d controlled lurched into her throat. She laid her head back on his chest, unable to meet his gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure if she apologized for his family’s horror or the fact that she’d resurrected it. Shock and exhaustion crept past her defenses, and she shivered uncontrollably.

Taking her hand, he led her to his room and grabbed a sweatshirt off the end of his bed. With more tenderness than she’d ever experienced, he pulled it over her head, dressing her as if she were a child. Tremors raced through her body, and he rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm her. Tears pricked her eyelids. She was tired. So tired of being strong.

He stroked his hand over her hair. “Let me hold you. I need to know you’re safe.”

I just need you.
She laced her fingers through his and tugged him onto the bed. Some part of her brain registered that he’d changed the sheets. Thankfully, the blinding white had been replaced by dark blue. The last thing she needed was a flashback right now.