Page 52 of He Sees You

Jake's face contorts. "He's dangerous, Celeste. He's the killer?—"

"No," she says calmly. "You're the one who broke into my house. You're the one who chased me through the woods. You're the one with your gun out."

"I have keys! I'm allowed?—"

"To enter without permission? While drunk? To chase a woman who was fleeing from you?" I step forward, and Jake steps back. "That sounds like breaking and entering, attempted assault, stalking. Your badge doesn't make you immune to consequences."

"You threatening me?"

"I'mpromisingyou. Leave now, and this ends here. Continue this path, and I'll make sureeveryoneknows what kind of man you really are. I have cameras, Deputy. Lots of them. Including ones that show you trying her bedroom door while she was sleeping."

Jake's face drains of color. "You're lying."

I pull out my phone, show him the footage from earlier—him testing the Sterling house doors, looking for entry points.

His hand on his gun as he entered.

Him stumbling drunk through the house.

"I also have footage from last Tuesday," I add, swiping to another video. "You entering the house while Sheriff Sterlingwas at a scene. You were in there for forty-three minutes. Should we watch together? See which rooms you visited?"

Jake's hand tightens on his gun. "You've been spying?—"

"I've been protecting. There's a difference." I step closer, and he retreats again. "Leave. Now. Don't come back to this property. Don't go near Celeste again. Or this video goes to the state police, the media, everyone."

"The sheriff will?—"

"The sheriff will what? Protect the deputy who's been stalking his daughter? Who's been entering his home without permission? Who chased her through the woods drunk?" I smile coldly. "Sterling may be distracted, but he's not stupid. What do you think he'll do when he sees this footage?"

Jake holsters his gun, backing away. "This isn't over."

"Yes," I say. "It is."

He stumbles back into the darkness, and we listen to him crashing through the woods until the sound fades.

"He'll try again," Celeste says.

"No. He won't." I close the door, lock it. "Men like Jake are cowards. They only attack when they think they can win. Now he knows I'm watching. Now he knows you're under my protection."

"Your protection," she repeats, turning to face me fully. "Is that what I am? Protected?"

"What do you want to be?"

She moves closer, and I can smell her shampoo, something expensive and dark, like violets at night. "I want to be more than protected. I want to be possessed."

"Careful what you wish for."

"I've been careful my whole life." She's close enough now that I can see the pulse in her throat, rapid as a trapped bird. "I've dated safe men, written safe endings to dark stories, lived in a safe city bubble. I'm done with safety."

"I'm not safe."

"I know." She reaches up, her fingers tracing the scar through my eyebrow. "You killed a man for watching me. You've been in my room while I slept. You've read my deleted thoughts, seen my hidden self. You know me in ways that should terrify me."

"But they don't."

"No." Her other hand comes up to my chest, feeling my heartbeat. "They make me feel seen. Chosen. Wanted in a way that has nothing to do with convention and everything to do with recognition."

"Celeste—"