Page 69 of Sebastian

“You will always be … mine,” the stalker hissed through clenched teeth.

She shook her head as tears blended with the water coating her face.

A syringe appeared in his hand.

He held it high, taunting her as her gaze landed on it.

Her eyes followed the tip of the needle until it plunged into her arm.

Chapter41

The night air was quiet. Not even a breeze rustled through the jungle. Sebastian pressed his back against the trunk of a tree, hidden in the shadows of the dense foliage surrounding the safe house. The wilderness provided a natural barrier, and the motion sensors filled in the gaps for anyone trying to breach the structure. He was careful to avoid tripping them as he moved along the perimeter. An SUV with mud-caked tires was parked on the gravel driveway in front of the house.

There were only two entry points.

A window above the kitchen, which deterred entry due to the narrow size and distance from the ground, and the front door.

He settled on the window as his way inside.

Sebastian took a slow breath, then studied the front of the cottage.

No sign of the police guard, which was unusual. Threats were more likely at night. Sebastian expected him to be on his post outside monitoring for any intruders, not inside getting his fucking beauty rest.

Grabbing his cell phone, Sebastian accessed the classified program used by PISCOs to sweep an area for security. He aimed at the house and checked for any signs of additional motion detectors or cameras. Four motion detectors registered through his tracking program. He’d need to scramble the codes the police used to monitor in order to enter the house undetected. But he didn’t want to stumble upon the guard inside the house. He needed to find a way to lure the man outside.

Sinking low against the tree, Sebastian picked one of the motion detectors near a flowering bush in the yard. One that could easily be tripped by a small animal but not easily checked through video monitoring. He rubbed his hand along the foliage until he felt a rock big enough to throw at it. He only had one shot. Thank goodness his aim was impeccable. Leaning forward, he threw the rock and watched as it bounced onto the motion detector. The device lit up, flashing an almost imperceptible yellow light at high speed.

The guard should be coming outside in seconds to check things out. Darting across the lawn, he kept low and to the shadows until he was pressed against the side of the house, directly underneath the window. He could no longer see the porch, but he’d be able to hear the door open and see the guard as he exited.

He sank into the shadows, hidden in the darkness, and waited. Seconds turned to long, excruciating minutes.

No one came outside.

No one … fucking … came.

“Shit,” Seby muttered under his breath. Taking off briskly, he reached back into his backpack for the suppressor and screwed it to the end of his Glock. He raced up the steps. Two at a time. Aimed for the space between the locks and the door jam. Two quick shots. The wood splintered. The door swung open from the force.

He stepped into the living room.

Smoky scent of goat meat lingered in the air.

Modest, traditional furniture.

A couch. Two armchairs. Coffee table.

Neat. Tidy. Undisturbed.

Turning in a full circle, he took in the surroundings.

Satisfied that nothing was amiss, he faced a short hallway.

His finger rested on the side of the gun.

Still and unmoving.

Ready at a moment’s notice to slide over the trigger.

With silent steps, he moved down the hallway to the bedroom.