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Chapter 17

O ver the last few days, I’ve been riding the biggest high. The rush from a kill and a good sleep are enough for me. A huge smile spreads across my face as I wake up this morning. Earlier this week, I turned on the news and heard a brief mention of Candice Smith's accidental overdose. God, that was almost too easy.

Allie called me yesterday to say Ansley was already on her way to her grandma's house in Alabama. According to her, Ansley is handling things surprisingly well, given the circumstances. She'll need therapy for a while, but Allie’s referred her to someone local. Ansley will have a new beginning. The opportunity for a brighter future.

I went out early this morning to browse the home improvement store and run a few other errands. I’ve made up my mind—it's time to tackle some renovations, and an outdoor living space is something I’ve wanted for a while now. I haven’t added any flowers or shrubs to my yard since I moved in last fall, except for the white rose bushes, of course .

Spring is almost over, and summer is quickly approaching. I love everything about lake life—the fresh scents, the melody of chirping birds, the breeze that rolls off the dock. Maybe I’ll put in an in-ground pool. An infinity pool would be perfect, and I’m planning on repainting my sunroom. The previous owner picked a dull off-white color for the interior, but I’m considering something more vibrant—maybe sea blue or sunny yellow.

My day starts at the nail salon, getting a manicure and pedicure. I chose a lovely shade of pink with cute daisies. It’s a bit girly, but I like to offset my darker side.

After paying, I head to the home improvement store, excited to see what they have to offer. I browse the patio and outdoor furniture briefly, then make my way to the paint section. I grab at least thirty color palette samples, and I’m flipping through them when I run into Eli.

“Well, hey there, Little Killer. Where’s the fire?”

The scene at the bar has been replaying in my mind like a movie reel. I can’t believe I gave in to him so quickly. I’ve always been careful about relationships—past experiences taught me to be. My side hobby is something I prefer to keep under wraps. You know, jail and all. I’d rock the shit out of orange, but I’d rather not spend the rest of my life behind bars.

Eli has an aura, a certain charm, that makes me feel inexplicably drawn to him. It’s not just his rugged good looks, with his chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes. Though that definitely helps. I hardly know him, but he makes me feel safe in an indescribable way—something I’ve never experienced. And apparently, my body is telling me it’s been too long since I last got off with something besides my fingers and my vibrator .

And his mouth—lord help me. If we hadn’t been interrupted at the bar, I’m certain I would’ve been riding his face by the end of the night. Just the thought of it has my panties soaked. I meant every word when I told Eli I wanted to make a good impression in Lake Falls. My profession requires me to be a good role model.

“I guess I could eat,” I confess, amused over how he’s charmed me into this so-called date. “I’ve got a couple more errands to run first, though.”

Eli aims a sexy smile my way. “Meet me there at noon?”

“I should be able to make it by then, but only because I’m starving.”

We part ways, and I next stop in the garden section and pick out a houseplant, lantana, and two rose bushes. White roses, with their delicate petals and sweet scent, symbolize purity and innocence. They have significant meaning for me. I have a garden full of them. One for each life I’ve taken. A rebirth of sorts.

I’m about to check out when a text message notification interrupts me. I grab my phone and enter my password, assuming it’s from Allie, but it’s from an unfamiliar number:

Little Killer, I'm not rushing you, but I’ve snagged us a small booth in the back at Rosie’s. See you soon, beautiful.

How the hell did he get my number?

I type a quick reply: Okay, Stalker . Be there soon.

I arrive at Rosie's Italian Restaurant at exactly noon. This charming spot is known for serving some of the best Italian food in the state. I glance at the rearview mirror to check my appearance, and quickly finger-comb my beach waves and apply a small amount of lip gloss before heading inside .

A well-dressed gentleman, who I presume is the host, greets me with a friendly, “You must be Tessa. I’m Sam. Eli’s waiting for you.” He gives me a broad grin, followed by a wink. Eli probably knows everyone in the towns around Lake Lucia.

Feeling a little underdressed, I survey the other customers, relieved to see most are wearing casual attire.

“Our dress code applies only in the evenings,” Sam says, as if reading my mind.

He leads me to a secluded table in the back, away from the crowd. The lighting is exquisite, soft and romantic, with the gentle glow of candlelight flickering across the room. As we approach the table, Eli stares at me intently, his eyes fixed on me as if I’m the only person in the room. The waiter pours water while I take the seat Sam pulls out for me.

“Thank you, Sam,” Eli says, never taking his eyes off me as I join him. “You look even more beautiful in candlelight, just as I knew you would.”

I’ve never been good at taking compliments, so I just roll my eyes. “I’m here. You can stop laying it on so thick.”

He sits back casually. “I’m just calling it as I see it, Tessa.”

“And how in the hell did you get my phone number?”

He smirks. “A friend of a friend.”

“It’s concerning that people are giving out my phone number to just anyone,” I reply after the waiter takes our lunch order.

“Relax, I sweet-talked Allie.”

He sounds so sure of himself.

“Oh really?” I say, raising an eyebrow in surprise over the fact that Allie gave my number out without even telling me. “So tell me about yourself. The only thing I know is that you're from Lake Falls and run a construction company. That’s about it.” I keep my knowledge of his sister's kidnapping and murder to myself.

“Yes, that much is true. I’ve always been into building things—using my hands, that kind of stuff. It wasn’t my first job, though. I served in the Navy, starting at age nineteen. After a few tours, I decided it was time to leave, and I came home and started a business with my friend Jace. You met him the other day.”

I nearly choke on my water. He’ s ex-military ? SHIT. I quickly compose myself.

“The Navy, huh? Wow, I’m impressed. Was it something you always wanted to do, or was it one of those commercials with the ‘Honor, Courage, Commitment’ thing?” I say, half-jokingly.

His eyes flicker with brief pain and guilt, but he stares back unflinchingly. “I was going through some things, and the Navy gave me many opportunities.”

I pause, unsure of what to say, but luckily, the waiter arrives with our meal.

I’m starving, so when I take a bite, I can’t help but groan in appreciation.

“It’s good, right?” Eli says, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. The darkness in his gaze has faded, revealing a lighter, more joyful expression.

“So very good,” I close my eyes as the delicious taste of garlic and pasta sauce fills my mouth.

We eat in comfortable silence, the only sound being the gentle clinking of silverware, while my brain races to process everything I’ve learned about him. Getting involved with Eli could lead to trouble. He could easily stumble onto my less-than-honorable activities. The thought of him discovering my secret and recoiling in disgust makes my heart sink.

“Hey, is everything alright? You look a little pale.” Concern flickers in his eyes as he reaches for my hand and gently rubs it.

“I force a smile. “Everything’s fine. I was just thinking about something that happened at work.”

“Am I boring you?” he teases.

“No, of course not,” I say evasively. “Did you have to kill a lot of people when you were in the military?”

“Yes, but only those who deserved it,” he says seriously, before a smirk lights his face. “I’d tell you about it, but then I’d have to kill you.”

I become aware of his hand still resting on mine, the gentle stroking sending shivers down my spine.

“So, tell me about yourself. You’re a nurse practitioner, right? Do you enjoy it?” He takes a sip of water before continuing. “Trevor said you were the one who sewed up his finger after he nearly chopped it off with a table saw.”

I relax into this question. It’s easy to answer. I’ve wanted to be a nurse for as long as I can remember. My work is deeply rewarding because I genuinely enjoy helping those who need it.

Eli’s intense focus makes me think he’s truly interested in what I say and conversation flows so easily with him. I find myself sharing more about my house and my vision for the outdoor living area. He tells me about his work and how much he enjoys fishing. Before I know it, I’ve nearly cleaned my plate. I don’t pretend to be embarrassed; I’m not ashamed of my appetite or my body.

Despite my objections, he insists on picking up the tab after our meal .

As we leave the restaurant, he places his hand on my lower back, startling me. “I’m just making sure you don’t get away too easily,” he murmurs. My body buzzes with electricity, and I feel a flutter in my core. Once we’re outside, the sun warms my skin, and a gentle breeze caresses me. He walks me out, guiding me toward my car.

How does he know what I drive? My eyes narrow at him in suspicion. "I saw you pull in," he says with a shrug.

“Yeah, okay,” I reply. Seriously though, has he been digging into my life? He seems to know a lot about me—more than he should.

I push aside the flicker of worry that rises within me. He’s harmless. The man literally saved my life, and he’s definitely not hard on the eyes. In fact, he’s kind of easy to stare at. There’s no reason to worry—at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

His eyes lock on mine, bold and unwavering. “Since we’re friends now, when can I see you again?”

A smirk plays across my lips. “Friends? Why do I feel like you’re looking for more than friendship?”

His gaze, filled with desire, drops to my lips as he pushes me back against my car, his body pressing against mine in all the right places.

“I’d have to be fucking dead not to want more. Not to want you. But I’ll take what I can get.” He pulls back, releasing me. “For now,” he adds, his voice carrying an ominous edge as he turns toward his truck. “See you later, Tess,” he says, climbing into his vehicle.

My knees wobble as I press the unlock button and sink into the driver’s seat. Jesus Christ, what is this man doing to me?

As I start the car, I notice he's climbed into the cab of his truck and is waiting on me before he drives off. That is a gentlemanly thing to do, right? He doesn’t move until I pull out of the parking lot, then follows behind me since we're headed in the same direction. I drive toward home, my thoughts firmly stuck on Eli. Perhaps I'm fighting this too much. A quick fling could be good for me.

Upon entering the city limits, he turns onto Main Street, heading toward the town center. Disappointment hits me like a wave, and a soft chuckle escapes me. Did I really think he was going to follow me home and fuck me senseless? The absurdity of my own thoughts makes me roll my eyes.

I continue for a few miles before turning left onto Deer Point Road. I adore this street and everything about the neighborhood. We have ample space, so our homes aren’t crammed together like those in the newer, wealthier developments. It’s elegant but not ostentatious. My neighbors are friendly but keep to themselves for the most part, just the way I like it.

I park in front of my house and start to get out of my car when something catches my eye.

The front door is wide open. I'm certain I locked it and set the alarm before leaving this morning. My fingers hover over my bag, reaching for my Glock, when I see Jane Hill, my neighbor, rushing toward me, waving her phone wildly.

I pause.

“Don’t go in there, dear!” Jane shouts. “Cricket started barking while we were walking, and I saw a man sneaking out of your house!”

What the hell?

Had someone been in my house?

I tamper down the panic rising in my chest and turn to Jane. “Did you recognize the man?”

“I don’t think so, but my Cricket scared him off,” she declares with pride.

My gaze drops to the yappy Pomeranian snapping at her heels. I highly doubt Cricket could scare away a fly, but I don’t argue.

“Thank you,” I reply. “I called the sheriff, and they’re on their way,” Jane adds, bouncing a little too excitedly. “Don’t worry, they’ll track down whoever did this.”

Jane has been watching too much Law and Order again, and at eighty-four, this is probably the highlight of her year. She is a sweet, harmless woman who recently celebrated her sixtieth wedding anniversary with her husband Fred.

The wail of sirens draws near, and I internally groan. Fuck. I would have preferred to handle this myself, without involving the police.

A black Dodge Charger with flashing blue lights pulls up, the gold Sheriff’s Office insignia gleaming on its sides. Two officers emerge after the sirens are silenced. I recognize one as Marshall Randall, the sheriff’s son. The good one, apparently. The other officer is roughly my height, with short blond hair and a cocky attitude I can see coming from a mile away.

Marshall tosses me a curt nod, and he and Mr. Cocky make a beeline for the house. “Wait out here.”

“Okay,” I reply, the word tasting like ash in my mouth as I paste on a fake smile. Inside, I’m fuming. I’m not some delicate flower or a helpless damsel in distress. Stay here, where it’s safe. Sure. Okay .

Their guns are drawn as they cautiously enter the house. It doesn’t take long. A few minutes later, Marshall and the other officer return, holstering their weapons.

“There’s no sign of anyone, and nothing looks disturbed as far as I can tell. Could you check inside to see if anything’s missing or out of place? Ethan will follow you while I speak with Mrs. Hill about what she saw.”

I nod and head into the house. My security system is state-of-the-art. Bryce had installed it and assured me it was the best, which meant no one should have been able to get past it. The violation gnaws at me. How dare someone invade my personal space? I search through every room, searching for anything amiss.

“Does anything look out of place, ma’am?” Mr. Cocky asks, his tone laced with boredom.

“I don’t think so.”

“Anything missing? Jewelry, electronics, underwear—” he muses, jotting notes. “Anyone have a key or access to your security code? Any ex-boyfriends or family members that might have an ax to grind?”

“No. And no to everything else,” I snap.

Marshall and Jane are standing near the island in my open-concept kitchen. The large picture windows frame a view of the backyard and lake.

“Jane gave me a description, but we don’t have much to go on,” Marshall says. “Tessa, are you sure you locked the door and set the alarm?”

Yes, dumbass.

“Pretty sure,” I answer meekly, playing the fragile woman for now. I need them gone so I can check the indoor cameras.

They question me for another thirty minutes, and once I get everyone out of the house, I head into the library, access the safe room and enter the code and thumbprint ID. I keep everything in there from guns to knives to pharmaceuticals to my favorite hardback book collection. What? My books need to be safe too . Everything is secure.

I grab up my laptop to view the indoor cameras, and my jaw drops as I open the program and check the footage. My heart pounds. The video glitched for eleven minutes. The intruder used a key.

No one had a key.

Not even Bryce.

A chill runs down my spine.

I call Bryce to fill him in as my home alarm chimes—someone is pulling into my driveway.