Page 20

A s the weeks passed since I’d planted the cameras inside her apartment, it became abundantly clear to me that she was obsessed with me. And I mean that in a normal way—a girl having a crush on a guy. Not nearly in the same stratosphere as my level of obsession.

I just needed to wait until she was desperate enough to admit it to herself.

Winter was dark and long. She never tried to reach out, but the proof was right there in front of my eyes—how much she missed talking to me.

I missed her too, and I resented her even more for it.

She made me weak.

Then, the opportunity finally presented itself. Mid-April. Bunny was about to turn twenty-six. She cried for three whole days leading up to her birthday, throwing herself a pity party each night with ice cream and wine, and I knew I had to fly to NYC to stay close.

So I did.

She went out with Kendra and Nate. I followed, just to keep an eye. Or that’s what I told myself anyway.

The place they picked was pretty lowkey. There was a lounge on the first floor where they had reserved a booth and started with some drinks and a bunch of bar appetizers.

I sat in the dark corner by the bar, no mask, just hood pulled low, and the balaclava bunched around my neck in case I needed to cover my face.

Not that it mattered since nobody knew my face.

I blended into the shadows as I watched her.

I shouldn’t have even been there. Not after the way she’d fucking discarded me.

But it was her birthday. And no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t stay away.

Not from her.

The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it wasn’t nearly enough to dull the rage simmering beneath my skin.

Bunny was laughing. Tossing her head back, her curled-up hair bouncing, eyes glossy from too many drinks.

Instead of being miserable, she was glowing.

In that tiny pink dress that barely covered her ass, the one I knew she wore just to flaunt herself—for attention, for validation, for control.

She loved it. Loved being the center of gravity in a room full of men who would trip over themselves just to get a taste.

She didn’t even know her fucking limits.

Nate was beside her, sticking close like the pitiful, lovesick dork he was, but he wasn’t a threat. He never would be. She humored him, let him flirt, let him think he had a shot—but he didn’t.

Then some other fuckhead at the bar started buying her drinks. Sending them over one by one like some fucking gentleman, earning smiles, giggles, those wide, innocent “Oh my God, for me?” eyes she did so well.

I gritted my teeth, gripping the smooth wooden handle of the knife under my hoodie, just to cool myself off.

She was so fucking predictable. Always needing to be admired. Always flirting, teasing, tempting. Like a fucking slut.

Her painted lips wrapped around the rim of the glass, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of liquor, and I felt it. That pull. That hunger. That fury.

Perhaps I’d waited too long. She seemed ready to try to move on. Obviously, I’d never let that shit happen.

Then, the girls went upstairs to more of a club area that was much busier.

There was a live DJ and a dance floor, but not many people were dancing.

People were drinking, talking loudly as they hung around.

And her. In the middle of it all, swaying her hips, arms lifting above her head, eyes closing like she was in a rave.

I wanted to drag her out of there by her fucking throat.

But I leaned against the wall, seething, stewing, simmering.

Until that fucking guy from earlier made his move.

He was cocky. He had that smug goddamn grin that told me he’d done this before, that he thought he had a chance. He leaned into her, whispered something in her ear, making her laugh, blush, bite her fucking lip.

I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached.

She was wasted—I realized that. She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing.

And yet, my mind spun—she let him touch her, that traitorous cunt. A hand on her waist, fingers brushing her arm. She let him whisper in her ear, let him murmur sweet little lies while she batted her lashes and played along.

I hated her. I fucking hated her.

But I still wanted her.

And then, in a split second, I noticed him quickly pour some powder into her drink. My eyes darted to Kendra, hoping she’d noticed, but she was busy with some other guy. And Nate had stayed downstairs in the booth.

When my eyes shifted back to Bunny, she was already sipping on her drink while that motherfucker watched, grinning from ear to ear.

I nearly went up to them to carve his heart out, but he excused himself for a moment. He headed toward the back, probably to freshen up before he made his next move.

I followed like a shadow.

The bathroom was empty when I stepped inside. He was at the mirror, adjusting his shirt, running a hand through his blond hair, checking his breath like he was about to close the fucking deal.

He wouldn’t get a chance.

I moved fast.

He barely had time to blink before my reflection popped up behind him. Before my fingers clamped around the back of his nape, and I slammed his face into the mirror.

Glass fractured, blood splattered, and he gasped, like a pathetic little bitch.

Before he could recover, I pulled him back and shoved his face down against the sink. His hands clawed at my wrist, struggling uselessly, as his body jerked, trying to get free.

I leaned in. My voice was low, steady, and final, “I’m only saying it once. Back the fuck away from her, or I’ll crack your fucking skull open in three… two… o—”

He whimpered. Actually whimpered.

Fucking embarrassing.

“Y-you’re crazy, man,” he stammered, blood dripping down the porcelain sink from the cut above his brow. My cock twitched at the sight. “I’ll—I’ll call the cops—”

A laugh escaped me, low, deep, full of something dark and cruel. Then I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head up, our eyes meeting in the cracked mirror. With my other hand, I lifted the knife, pressing the sharp blade against his throat, ready to lacerate it. His body stiffened.

“Go ahead. You do that,” I murmured with a smirk. “I’m sure they’ll be interested to learn how you roofied her drink.”

His breath hitched. “I d-don’t know w-what y-you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah? I bet you have more on you. Maybe I should just give them a call.” I released him with a shove, watching him stumble against the sink, panting, shaking. His eyes flicked to the exit, then back to me, as if debating whether or not to say something.

I took a step forward.

He bolted.

Didn’t even say goodbye to Bunny. Just run the fuck down the stairs and left.

Problem solved.

Normally, I’d follow him, but I had to make sure Bunny was okay. I knew that I’d try to track him down and deal with that piece of shit later anyway.

Back on the dancefloor, Kendra was having another drink, shaking her ass. But Bunny… looked like she was about to cry, shouting something to her over the music.

I carefully approached closer to hear her slurred voice better, and my heart stopped.

“Why didn’t he call? It’s my birthday. He didn’t even text me.”

There it was.

“Bun, come on!” equally inebriated Kendra practically yelled. “You blocked him everywhere.” She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “You ghosted Ghost!”

“I know! But he would find a way if he wanted to. I just miss him so much…”

“Then unblock him if you miss him and stop being stupid.”

“Right.” Bunny pulled her phone out of her purse. She started tapping on the screen. “Done!” she announced, swaying slightly.

I smiled—if only she knew how close I was to her. She had no idea I was right there. That I was watching her like I always did.

“Now stop moping! It’s your birthday! Let’s dance!” Kendra tried to make her smile again.

But Bunny started blinking too much, pressing her fingers to her temple. She was out of it. “I don’t feel good,” she mumbled.

Kendra touched her arm, bleary-eyed. “Why don’t we go sit down?”

They went downstairs and joined Nate at the booth. He knew right away that something wasn’t right.

“You want me to take you home?” He didn’t wait for the answer. Bunny barely protested as he led her out, her legs slacking behind her. Kendra followed.

So did I.

They hailed a cab and bundled inside.

I was right behind them all the way to Bunny’s brownstone.

Nate walked her inside while Kendra held the cab.

And I watched through the cameras how he guided her straight to her bedroom.

She kicked off her heels, stumbling slightly and giggling to herself—the next stage of the drug was kicking in, and she was moving through the motions of her intoxicated state.

But Nate was a good boy. Per her request, he undid the zipper of that tiny pink dress and let it fall to the floor without peeking.

Then she crawled into bed in nothing but her panties and tangled herself in the sheets, already half-asleep. He kept his hands to himself.

Smart move. I’d cut them off right then and there if he tried to take advantage of her state.

He just brushed her hair gently, then joined Kendra before they drove off.

That’s when I moved.

The lock clicked softly behind me as I slipped inside.

The apartment was pitch-black and full of the soft scent of her.

I walked silently, way too familiar with the layout, and stopped at the edge of her room, watching.

Her curtains were left open, and the streetlight, along with the moonlight, illuminated her face just enough for me to see.

She was a mess. Mascara smudged, hair wild, skin flushed from too much alcohol. But she was still the most fucking beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Soft. Unaware. Helpless.

My fingers twitched with the need to touch. To ruin. To take everything she kept from me.