Page 81

“No. You knew about this and didn’t tell me. What about the rest? What about Mike's Gym? Is that the first time we met, Damon? Is the sicko in that message right?”

I’m holding my breath out of fear, out of panic. Waiting for him to deny everything while at the same time, everything falls into place. I knew it all along and didn’t want to accept it. Because that would mean the man looking at me right now was as psychotic as The Reaper. As psychotic as Julia.

“No. We met before.”

Nero’s, the man who held me, the pot, letters, and gifts—all the memories form a collage, merging into one big picture explained in one word.

“Stalker.” He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t move.

“You stalked me before we officially met.” Deep down, I knew this. Red flags had been raised, and I ignored them.

Yet his admission hits me like a ton of bricks.

Every interaction we’ve had passes through my mind, but now, I look at them differently, with suspicion.

“We met at Nero’s.” Nod.

“You sent me the Mike’s Gym pamphlet.” Nod.

“You left me the pots, seeds, and notes.” Nod.

“You gave me the necklace.” Nod.

“You bought the house I was renting from Ralph.” Nod.

Oh my god. I can’t think straight. Everything is too confusing. Too overwhelming.

My chest constricts, and my breathing is strained. Am I having a heart attack?

“Calm down, Sienna. You are having a panic attack. Breathe, rainbow.”

Breathe rainbow. Breathe rainbow. I’m hyperventilating, and it’s made worse by his term of endearment. I can’t get any air in, and then I wonder why I am even fighting this. Darkness is a much better place for me right now. And so, I give in.

Chapter 21

Shadow

“What the fuck happened?” I’m beyond livid. I’m out for blood, and either it's one of the three guys in this room, or they give me someone to kill. While Jordan and Kai are always scared, even Bob has a look of fear on his usually stoic face for a change.

Thankfully, Sienna is still out and won’t have to hear or see any of this. After carrying her limp, pale figure in here half an hour ago, I called the doctor on my payroll. He just left after giving her the once over and all clear. He has also doled out some sedatives and more sleeping tablets, which I have on me. Just in case. While I don’t think Sienna would attempt to take her life again, I would rather be safe than sorry.

“Thorough checks were run on all staff present at the hotel tonight, and all are accounted for on the cameras. Whoever this was, he wasn’t one of the staff or guests at the event.” Jordan hits enter, unfreezing the computer screen angled toward me, which shows a man dressed in a waiter's uniform arriving at our table shortly after we leave. Besidesthe fact that he has short brown hair, his face is never visible. He keeps it angled away from the cameras. He knows the layout. Knows where they all are. He subtly bumps Sienna's clutch off the table as he clears the uneaten appetizers. He is very good. It takes him seconds to bend down, retrieve the butt plug from his pocket, and put it in her bag.

“All entrances and exits were checked and re-checked. This guy must have been in the hotel before we hacked the system. We ran the footage of all two hundred and thirty-four hotel room guests and isolated five who fit this description.” Jordan hands me the files, and I turn the cover, revealing suspect number one.

“It’s not him. The Reaper was 5’8”, this guy is shorter.” I hand the file back to Jordan, who looks at it confused.

“How can you tell?” Jordan studies the photo of the guy, taken as he arrived at the hotel in the lobby. The angle made it difficult to gauge, but other details gave me the clues I needed to eliminate him from the pile.

“He is wearing an Arabellio suit. The buttons are custom-made. That company only caters to short-stature men under 5’5”. It’s in their slogan. No need to reach for elegance. With us, it is within your grasp,” I repeat the catchphrase for a company that has found a gap in the market and capitalized on it. Smart business.

“It’s not this guy. He has a small pockmark on his chin, bottom right.” I had memorized The Reaper's face, the parts we could see in the bathroom footage. I knew every freckle and every mark. This was not one of them.

I flip open the following file and then flip it closed immediately after.

“Not him. This guy is left-handed. When The Reaper knocked the bag off the table, he reached instinctively with his right hand. He also held Sienna at gunpoint with his dominant hand. The right one.”The guy in the photos was signing for his hotel room key with his left hand. The Reaper wasn’t ambidextrous, either. The bathroom footage confirmed it, with his dominant hand doing everything of importance.

File number four looks promising.