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CHAPTER 29

C assandra

Even if I managed to escape physically, mentally I’d remain a prisoner.

That was clear to see.

“It’s not what he wrote exactly that bothered me. It was how he put the words together, the possessiveness in them. I swear to God, I felt like you were standing behind me. You really didn’t message me on Sugar Babies?” I had no idea what to think any longer. In all the years I’d prosecuted complex, brutal cases, what I’d heard was the creation of the worst nightmares.

“No, Cassandra. I didn’t.”

“The nickname, the Stalker. How would he know that was your moniker?”

He shrugged. “I’ve used it with certain situations I’ve handled over the years. It’s possible someone breathed the name to the wrong person.”

I didn’t necessarily buy he’d been that careless, but he had no reason to further lie to me. He’d admitted being in my condo.

“But there’s a video of me you found on Drew Monahan’s computer.”

“Yes, there was. It was the last video in a collection of them.”

“Which you emailed to yourself.”

Wilder exhaled. “Only your video.”

“Did you delete it from his collection?” I studied his reaction and it was fascinating to watch his possessive nature with me remaining firm even when it only involved a video.

“I did. You’re mine.”

At least I could breathe a little easier, even if I wanted to argue I didn’t belong to him. I closed my eyes, chastising myself for the suggestion and hope. I was an officer of the law. Oh, my God.

“You should rest,” he said.

“I don’t know how I can.”

The night had seemed endless, the lightning continuing to dance across the moonless sky.

There’d been no sleep, no real sense of peace. The joy I’d felt in being spanked and fucked by a self-appointed monster had weighed heavily on my mind.

He’d been oh-so thoughtful in kidnapping me, even stuffing a duffle bag full of some clothes and toiletries taken from my home. The entire situation was surreal.

But the knowledge that there was someone else out there, a monster attempting to lure me into a deadlier game was even worse. I could barely think clearly, the thought driving my anxiety to an even higher level than before.

“There were other videos, other women?” I tipped my head toward him, searching his face. His expression was devoid of the earlier emotion.

“Yes, there were others. I believe that’s how the girls were chosen. I would imagine if the detective working on the investigation looks into Drew’s history he will see a distinct correlation.”

It was still unfathomable I’d been on the list.

I closed my eyes, envisioning the very video that had placed a target on my head. “Another girl was found dead. It’s questionable as to whether Drew had the opportunity to take another life or if he was already behind bars.”

“Drew isn’t the killer, sweet butterfly. I think we both know who is.”

“Your father.”

“Yes.”

“Whether that’s true or not, he needs to be apprehended. I can ensure that happens.”

His sigh was heavier. “You can’t and you won’t. Period.”

“You don’t own me, Wilder.” I watched as he moved to sit in one of his comfortable chairs, a king on a throne. He looked so damn handsome, his hair still damp from a shower. A shower he’d forced me to share with him.

Not that I’d minded.

I licked my lips in appreciation and tried to keep my mind on business. I needed to contact my office, but Wilder had made it perfectly clear I was to remain locked behind his fortress walls until he and his brothers apprehended and killed their father.

Patricide.

I honestly had no feelings about the man’s possible death one way or the other.

“Possession is nine tenths of the law. I assure you that I can and will keep you here. Now, tell me about the videos.”

Now he had the tone of a patronizing father.

My stomach churned from the continued swell of butterflies. Or maybe it was actually rocks. I stared into the glass of wine, returning to the window a few seconds later. He allowed me to remain quiet without pushing me into speaking. But there was no reason to keep anything from him at this point.

“You’re wondering why,” I whispered.

“Why?”

“Why I made the videos.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“At first, the videos were a way of helping pay the bills and nothing else,” I admitted. I wasn’t facing him. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. Not after what had occurred between us. There was no logical reason why other than I was unable to accept that Wilder was right about me.

That I was a completely different woman than I’d led myself to believe.

“Why not waiting tables? Why not flipping burgers? Modeling. Hell, you’re a fucking knockout.”

He made the questions sound so reasonable, so easy as if the answers should come to me easily.

They didn’t.

I pulled the glass of wine to my lips, wishing there was ice clinking against the thin crystal to ease the pain behind my eyes. I doubted anything could do that at this point. My headache wasn’t about what had happened on the beach, but what had captured my soul years before.

“Because neither paid enough. I had scholarships, but my parents couldn’t afford to cover the difference. Between room and board, I was drowning.”

He chuckled, the sound as if a distant echo.

Yet it burned into my brain.

“Perhaps a portion of the reality you face is what allows you to easily slide into a mask. No longer are you the respected attorney, but instead a woman only satisfied when embracing a more seductive personality. The enjoyment and satisfaction began to outweigh the tactical reasons. Why continue to try and fool yourself? What is the point in doing so after all these years?”

“Because…” I stopped before another lie could be told. A bitter laugh slipped up from my throat. “The money was the initial attraction. I couldn’t make in a week what I was able to secure for a single night working two jobs. I’d believed the videos were temporary, a few months only.”

“Something changed.”

I threw him a look, rolling my eyes. “Yes, maybe everything.” How was he able to drag my darkest secret from its protective shell?

“After the lure of cash was no longer the excuse, what then?”

“You’re such a bastard,” I whispered. His challenge was infuriating. “Fine. After that, I enjoyed the attention. I thrived on pretending, no longer caged by the insane belief I was required to be a good girl all the time. Every single moment. I valued the dip into depravity, savoring every moment of being someone else. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I only wanted to hear the truth. There is nothing wrong with craving something out of your comfort zone. Nothing.”

“Said by a man who kills people.”

“A mere necessity.” He chuckled instead of being insulted.

I turned toward him, my breath caught as it always was every time he was close. “What is your real darkness, Wilder? If you killed simply after becoming judge and jury to terrible people who did horrible things, then what level of immorality entices the man inside?”

He took a deep breath, swirling the damn liquid in his glass as he did every time he was contemplating how to answer me. I wanted to smash the glass, tossing it against the wall. “Possession. The need to conquer, breaking down even the toughest of defenses.”

“As you think you’ve done with me?”

“Haven’t I?”

“Never. I don’t belong to you, and I have a resolute spirit.”

“Your spirit is something else that attracts me, but think again, sweet butterfly, if you don’t believe I’ve managed to break your defenses.”

Why did I have the feeling I’d never manage to escape from him?

Why was it that I wasn’t certain I wanted to flee?

There was no way of challenging him that would change his mind. “What now, Wilder? How are you going to hunt down your father?”

“He’ll be lured into a trap.”

“Created by you and your brothers.”

“Yes.” He finally took a gulp. I found myself watching him, studying his actions. Did I think I was going to break through his thick armor, finding some vulnerability? Not a chance.

“Then what? You kill him?”

He said nothing.

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do. Judge and jury.”

“As it should be.”

“You’re not God. Neither are your brothers.” I wasn’t certain my insistence meant anything.

“No, we are not.” He lifted his glass, finally drifting his gaze toward me. “We’re worse. Much worse.”

“If he’s continued his killing spree, he should be brought to justice.”

“He will be, but it’s obvious no prison can keep him.”

He was right about that. I needed to know what the hell had happened and how the man had escaped. Someone knew something. That his exit had been shoved under the rug just like everything involving the family had been years before continued to be a red flag.

However, there was no chance Wilder would allow me to leave his home or be away from him. I had to figure out a way. I sipped my wine, mulling over ideas. Only one made any sense, but it would be almost impossible for it to happen. Still, I had to try.

“Whatever you have planned, I can’t simply disappear without people questioning what happened to me. I need to call my office and make up an excuse.”

Every time he studied me as he was doing at the moment, it felt as if he was digging into my psyche, not only reading my mind, but picking apart my soul. I dragged the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip and he narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t think I need to remind you that lives are at stake. Make no mistake, Cassandra, Cain Demarco will not stop until he gets what he wants.”

“And exactly what is that?”

He took another sip of his drink. “For him and his sons to be immortalized, our family name burned in effigy. He’ll do whatever that takes to make it happen, including and especially taking the lives of everyone important to us.”

“What in God’s name do you remember? You were so young.”

He looked away, but not before I caught the look in his eyes. The deep array of emotions caught me off guard.

“People believe children younger than five aren’t mentally capable of remembering much if anything about an experience, but that’s wrong. What happens is that the images and voices are stored in a vault, key elements usually the cause of bringing them forward. In the case of violence or pain, when and if the memories are forced to resurface, those forced to remember are often incapable of deciphering truth from fiction. My father was a manipulative prick who used his respected profession to initiate trust. He also used his empathy to lure his victims into compromising situations. In addition, he managed to manipulate almost everyone around him into doing what he wanted so he could keep his hands clean.”

Just like he’d done with Drew Monahan.

“But he couldn’t manipulate your mother.”

He laughed, using the same tone as I’d done before. “No. That’s why she lost her life.”

“It still seems like you’re threatening me.” Whatever he had remembered had turned his curiosity about his past into just another vendetta. Maybe I should stop caring about the welfare and justice of a monster.

Yet which creature of the night was I referring to?

Another shiver. Another wave of desire. Another even deeper emotion that scared me to death.

“I’m warning you, Cassandra. Nothing more. Nothing less. This isn’t a situation to take lightly and can’t be played by anyone’s traditional rules, including those involving justice. The only justice possible is by ending the bastard’s life once and for all.” He stood abruptly, moving toward me and there was such a sense of purpose in his actions that I bristled. When he was only a few inches away, I thought I’d feel the desire to turn away from him.

I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned forward.

“Are you really warning me about your father or are your vehement words an indication you’re concerned about what you’ll do to me? Are you really worried you’ve fallen into the same madness as your father?”

His hand cupped my cheek and I closed my eyes. There was such warmth in his fingers touching my skin, such peace that I allowed myself to slide into the lull of being close to him.

“While the experts will argue about whether genetics or environment plays a larger role in shaping a child, what if both situations were equally as horrific?”

How was I supposed to answer that?

“However, that doesn’t mean I would ever hurt you, Lady Butterfly. You’re too important to me. I would die to protect you.”

He pulled away as quickly as he’d advanced and both my body and my mind were jarred from his abrupt departure.

“I don’t want you to die for me. I just need you to realize that you’re not your father.” I opened my eyes, watching him closely as he walked toward a bookcase.

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

“I’ll throw something back in your face you’ve told me more than once. I’m never wrong.”

He laughed as he slid a book aside and suddenly, the bookshelf moved, silently exposing a vault behind the hidden case. He was quick in his actions as he pressed a few buttons on the steel front. A small door swung open, and he grabbed something into his hand. As he turned, he cocked his head, holding out my cellphone. “I’m going to trust that you understand how dangerous the predicament we’re in. Make the call, Cassandra. Just remember I’m the only person capable of protecting you.”

His words weighed heavily on my mind as he walked closer. I placed my wine on the coffee table before taking the phone from his hand.

“I’m not doing anything stupid, Wilder. You need my help. You know that.”

“Perhaps you’re right, sweet butterfly, but not in the way that you believe.”

He had a way of unnerving me almost every time we were together. I took a few seconds before dialing the number to my office. He wanted trust, but I wasn’t certain if that was possible.

Yet as I stared into his eyes, I could see not only the fleeting images of the dark side of his being, but also a light begging to be freed.

How was it possible to help him? How could I break through the barrier he’d been forced to surround himself with since he was a small child? In my mind, there was only one way of protecting his freedom and perhaps saving his soul.

Lying to him.

But that was the tip of the iceberg. I’d need to concoct a plausible scenario to try to escape while relying on every expert in law enforcement who owned me a favor. Recapturing Cain Demarco was a long shot, but even master criminals needed to come up for air, needing an escape from the brutality of their own bloody thoughts.

I folded my arm, rubbing my hand up and down as a series of shivers prickled my skin. I’d once thought I couldn’t worm my way inside the mind of a madman, but I’d proven myself wrong time and time again. I’d managed to pick apart their insecurities and angst, anger and determination for a sole purpose.

Keeping them locked behind thick steel bars.

But that’s not what I wanted for the man who continued to entice me, body and soul.

And truthfully? Wilder might be a cold-blooded killer, but he was completely in control of his brilliant brain.

Maybe that’s why he was so damn good at what he did and why I’d been instantly attracted to him.

What I had in mind would take a miracle to succeed, but what choice did I have? It was either remain a prisoner or fight to free Wilder’s soul. I dialed the number, staying right where I was. If I dared turn around, he would know I was planning something. As it was, his eyes were flashing, yet he remained completely poised. The man was in control at all times.

“Cash, hey, it’s Cassie.”

“Cassie? You never go by Cassie on purpose,” Cash said, laughing.

“Yeah, I’m working out of the office on the case I mentioned. I’ll miss the staff meeting.”

“What staff meeting? We haven’t had one of those in a long time. Are you okay?”

“No, I doubt I can make our lunch either. But listen. That girl who was found murdered. Have you checked with the detective on the videos found at the scene?”

“I don’t know since forensics are still involved. I haven’t heard anything else from the detective at this point, but there’s significant pressure to release Drew on bail since there are mitigating circumstances in how the man was found.”

“Shit. You can’t allow that to happen. Why not put a trace on him when he’s released?” I tried my best to act as nonchalant as possible. Two years before when another monster had threatened me, we’d joked about one protecting the other through the use of code words. Only the man holding me captive was too clever. He’d figure out I was concocting an out easier than anyone else I knew.

“Are you listening to what I’m saying, girl? What in the hell is going on with you? I’m filing an injunction so Mr. Monahan can’t be released. I don’t know how long it will last, but it’ll buy me some time to get in front of a judge.”

“The trace will at least let you know where he is the moment he goes free.”

“Whoa,” Cash finally said. “Oh, shit. Now I get it. You’re asking me to trace your phone. Something happened.”

“Yep. Just like that. It shouldn’t be too tough.”

“You’re not at your house. Are you?”

I laughed. “I know you’re good at what you do, buddy. Take a drive and refresh your mind. That might help. Besides, the office could do without you for a few hours.”

It was code meaning don’t bother trying to find me for a few hours. I either had to find a way to escape without Wilder knowing, knock him out cold, or wait until he was asleep.

“Okay, so you’re out of the city and I won’t be able to get to you for a few hours. Wow. Does this have anything to do with Wilder Blackwell?”

“As always. Anyway, I need to get back to work. I’ll try and call you later.” I only prayed I’d given him enough information.

“Jesus, are you in danger?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just trying to get a handle on if there’s any correlation with Cain Demarco escaping from the Red Onion State Prison in Virginia.”

“O-kay. I’ll see what I can do. Just sit tight.”

“I’m going to try. Just do your best; that’s all you can do.” I could tell Wilder was paying attention to every word, never blinking as he studied me.

“I’m calling the police.”

“No, I don’t need anything else. You’ve got your hands full.”

Cash whistled. “I don’t like this, but I’ll find you. His home?”

“No. I’m just a little overwhelmed, dreaming of the perfect house at the shore. One day.” With Wilder’s house being off the grid, the only possibility I had of getting away from the man was if Cash picked through my words.

Even that was risky as hell.

“Sit tight. I’ll find you. Somehow.”

“I know you will. Talk later.” I ended the call, half laughing as if annoyed by something Cash had said.

Wilder walked closer, holding out his hand.

There was no need to argue with him. As long as he kept the phone in the house, there was a slight chance Cash could trace the call.

“Please let me help you, Wilder. You’re going to get yourself arrested or worse if you don’t. I don’t want that.” And I didn’t. There was no way of denying how I felt about the man, although I also couldn’t comprehend a decent reason. It wasn’t about the darker side of him or the danger oozing from every pore in his body.

Yes, he’d touched my psyche in a way no one else would ever be able to do, but that wasn’t the reason my pulse was thready, my heart aching or that there were butterflies in my stomach. My physical impairments were based solely on knowing he’d somehow already captured a portion of my heart.

It was only a matter of time before he’d claimed the rest.

“Be careful, my Lady Butterfly. I want you safe and unharmed. As I told you before, the only way for me to ensure that happens is for you to trust me. Is that something you can do?”

As soon as our fingers touched, my pulse soared. “I guess we need to trust each other.”

“You’re right. I think you’re one of the few people I can trust. My perfect butterfly. You’re also the only person who’s ever managed to see right through me.”

“Which is exactly what I wanted.”

“Just remember something. In asking for what you want, be careful you don’t create your greatest nightmare at the same time.”