Page 33

CHAPTER 32

C assandra

“What do you mean you’re locking me in?” I demanded, pounding on the door. The sexy bastard had lied to me, telling me he would allow me to help, but he’d duped me.

Just like you’re planning on doing with him.

Okay, so maybe I’d given him an out telling him I’d wait for him, but he knew me too well. Talk about lack of trust. I almost banged my head on the door. Wilder truly believed he deserved to die.

Ugh, my inner voice was reminding me of everything I had planned.

Only at this point, I wasn’t certain I could put my plan in place.

The text he’d received had changed everything. I’d seen it in his eyes. There was no mistaking the rage I’d witnessed or the way his mood had been altered. Or the way every action he’d taken after that had been practiced.

He was doing this with only the help of his two brothers. That just couldn’t happen.

My heart ached, the thought of losing him far too painful.

“Don’t do this.” I had a feeling my plea had fallen on deaf ears.

At least he sighed in recognition.

What if Wilder noticed Cash was waiting to break me out of the luxurious prison? Was the Blackwell man capable of hurting someone who was only trying to help?

“My disappearance is temporary. Don’t worry, Lady Butterfly. You are already providing everything that’s needed for the hunt.”

“Don’t you fucking do this. You can’t win against your father. If everything you told me is true, he’s a true madman. Even with the help of your brothers, you might not win this.”

“Your lack of faith in me is understandable although I must admit, very painful.”

“Just let me out of here. Please let me help you.”

“Not a chance, my butterfly.”

“What if…” I pressed both fists against the door. “What if you don’t return? Please don’t do this. Please think about what I said. Let me call some people I know at the police department.” Of course, I knew he wouldn’t do that. He had no interest in being the center of attention for any criminal investigation. And there would be questions asked, fingers pointed.

Some sharp reporter would put two and two together. After that, the Blackwell lives could be ruined. Wilder was well aware of the odds himself. While he enjoyed his hunts, he had no interest in playing games he had no possibility of winning.

This was the game of life and death with the Grim Reaper as the master of ceremonies. I was sick inside, the nausea almost crippling.

He laughed as if what I’d suggested was the funniest thing in the world. “I guess you’ll need to trust me. But don’t worry, you’re not completely alone.”

What the hell did that mean?

“Wilder. Wait. Please take me with you.”

Five seconds passed.

Ten.

Was he still outside?

“Wilder.”

“I can’t do that, Cassandra. You’re far too important to me. It’s too late for me, but not for you.”

“Wilder. No, no. I don’t want you to go. You could be killed. I just… I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The quiet inside the small but well-equipped room was interminable. I turned my back against the door, slowly sliding down the surface until I was sitting on my butt. What if something did happen to him?

With my hands balled, I pressed them against my closed eyes, processing what the stupid man was about to do.

Which was basically getting himself killed.

While I appreciated the fact he was doing everything in his power to protect me, his methods of doing so pissed me off.

“Damn you. Damn you.”

No. No. No! This wasn’t right. I had to find a way out of this place.

He’d provided instructions not to make any sound. Only someone who was authorized to enter would open the door. Anyone else should be considered dangerous. By that point, I guess it would be too late.

I slowly began to breathe normally as the minutes ticked by and I couldn’t stop thinking about Wilder and the time we’d shared together. He was so damn… hot. And so powerful. And so… irritating. The laugh bubbling to the surface was all about irritation. No other man had infuriated me the way Wilder had done several times.

Including…

David.

Jesus. My brain was stopping and starting far too often. I had to think like a prosecuting attorney. Wilder had killed David. He’d admitted to the terrible deed. He’d duped Drew Monahan, including technically kidnapping the man after breaking into his house. They were all heinous crimes, although in the case of Mr. Monahan, his temporary incarceration was a good thing for the world.

However, in hearing Wilder’s confession and in learning the details, I was required under the law I served to turn him into the authorities.

Hold on. On one hand, I could keep practicing law if I performed my duties and lose Wilder in the process. The only man who’d managed to draw me from a dark and oppressive prison cell. On the other, I could ignore everything I’d committed my life to and keep the man of my dreams.

There was no in between.

I had to make one of the most difficult choices of my life.

But what if I couldn’t get the hell out of here?

I’d spouted off about love like I had a single clue what it entailed.

There were no romantic leads lining up for a power-hungry woman like me. Mother Nature wasn’t allowing men of every size and shape to fall from the heavens, discarding angels so every woman could have a real, hot alpha man.

However, as I paced the floor in the stupid room I’d been locked into, I was still thinking that love was a formidable opponent to the deeds of evil men. Maybe I had little romantic left in me, yet the way I felt about Wilder was amazing and debilitating, infuriating and so raw.

“Come out and play with me.”

I’d used my most alluring voice in creating a sound bite Wilder had plans on using. Only he didn’t know I had no intention of allowing him to get away with hunting on his own. He’d told me very little, only requiring me to make a few statements, recording them with his phone. I’d agreed. I’d acted like I’d be a good girl and remain right here in his house.

But he’d taken it one step further, locking me in a goddamn room. But not just any room. The damn thing was hidden behind other walls, only accessible through his incredible wine cellar.

He’d dumped me inside, assuring me he’d return and if he didn’t, he’d made arrangements for my safe passage to normalcy.

Without him, there was no such thing.

I jerked my head up, taking another few deep breaths. When I shifted, a smile formed on my face. While Wilder Blackwell might consider himself a master criminal, I’d learned a few techniques after years of practicing law.

Including protecting myself in any way possible.

My heart still ached, but I struggled to my feet, slowly easing my hand into my jeans pocket. My captor had taken my phone, which he’d believed to be the most dangerous thing in my purse. However, he’d missed the huge Swiss Army knife Penny had given me after the last incident with a deranged killer who’d tried to kidnap me.

The gift had been meant as a joke, but the sentiment had nestled in the dark recesses of my mind. I spun around to face the door, listening for any sounds. The quiet was even more unnerving.

After flicking the larger blade open, I twirled it in my hand while I stared at the lock casing. It wasn’t meant to open from this side and there weren’t the traditional screws that could easily be dealt with.

But there was a washer of some type. If I pried them off, I might be able to push the lock enough so I could then use the same metal to shove aside the locking portion itself. It was a longshot, but there was no other choice. Plus, I had a feeling the lock had been turned the opposite way. The room had been equipped as a safe room, a place where the owner of the house and his family or guests could potentially hide away for days in case of an attack. With two cots lining the thick walls, a shelfing unit full of canned goods, drawers that I’d yet to check out, and what appeared to be a small but running refrigerator, the room was well equipped.

There was even a computer system, no doubt heavily secured.

Yes. My instincts told me I was right. Wilder had hurriedly exchanged the lock’s position. That could work to my benefit.

After studying the mechanism for a full minute, I knew there was nothing to lose. I had to get the hell out of here.

The work was painstaking. I thought I’d end up breaking the blade more than once. And it seemed like I’d been at it for hours, but I started making progress.

With sweat beading on my face, I rubbed my sleeved arm across my cheeks and continued, growing excited when my plan seemed to work.

Yet I was counting off the seconds. What if Cash had given up?

Then I’d catch a goddamn ride.

The moment the lock shifted, another thought entered my mind. How in the hell was I going to find the location of the hunt?

At this point, it couldn’t matter.

I kept working, pushing my weight against the lock when I was certain I could drive it the opposite direction. I was about to give up all together when it suddenly moved and the momentum drove me against the door.

A smile broke across my face, but this was no time for a celebration. I shoved the blade between the door and the jamb and prayed.

Less than a minute later, I heard a slight click. Using my fingers inside the hole I’d created, I was able to open the door. The cool air of the wine cellar brought a sense of relief.

I almost did a little jig, but knew time was of the essence. All I could concentrate on at this point was finding Wilder. I had to help him.

Something deep inside my mind told me in no uncertain terms he would die without it.

My phone. What were the chances my fucked-up brain remembered the locking sequence on the keypad? I’d tried to pay close attention, but so much had been said, and my jumbled emotions were making thinking difficult.

I jogged into his office, scanning the room. A weapon would also be a good idea. First… I easily exposed the vault, mentally high fiving myself for the second success. Maybe I could join the ranks of being a criminal mastermind after all.

My fingers shaking, I tried the combination. Nothing. I repeated the sequence and groaned when I noticed a flashing light. My guess was that one more failed attempt and I’d be permanently locked out.

Damn it.

“Think. Think!” I closed my eyes, doing what I could to relax my mind, allowing numbers to slide into my mind.

They were jumbled and in truth, when a series of them kept repeating, I had no idea if I’d fail or not but no pain, no gain. I pressed my index finger against the keypad, taking a step back.

Another click.

This time, I was elated, stifling a squeal as I opened it, instantly yanking my phone into my hand. My breathing more labored than before, I dialed Cash’s number.

“Oh, thank God. Where the hell are you?” he asked in his demanding, incredible tone. “The fucking program keeps getting blocked.”

“The question is where are you?”

As he relayed the information, I moved toward the front door. “You’re close. So close. I’ll head toward you.”

“Jesus, Cassandra. You need to level with me. What in the hell is going on?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m in your car. If you’re tracking me, reactivate the system.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, but listen to me. More women are missing.”

“Their father took them. I’m certain of it. If only he hadn’t escaped, then none of this would be happening.”

Cash snorted. “My guess is you’re right in that in Demarco had something to do with their disappearance, but there’s something odd that you need to know.”

I searched the room for a weapon, opening and slamming several drawers. Wilder was too smart to hide one in plain view. “What?”

“Cain Demarco didn’t escape.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying he served his time. He was released for good fucking behavior ten years ahead of when he should have been.”

“A serial killer? Who the fuck botched the prosecution? Who the hell let him out?” My mind rushed to everything I’d suggested to Wilder. People were on the take and my guess was that my boss knew exactly who they were. A cold shiver drifted down my spine from the thought.

“I tried looking into it until I jumped into my car, but I swear to God, every file I attempted to access was under lock and key.”

“Of course. Just get here, Cash. We need to stop this.”

“There’s more. Drew Monahan was killed inside his jail cell. No one know how someone managed to get to him.”

“Fuck. There’s more going on. This is dangerous.”

“Yeah, and did you know Cain Demarco still owns property just outside Chicago? When I cross referenced the man’s name in the database, that popped up. What are the odds the property wasn’t sold?”

A cold shiver drifted ever so slowly down my spine. The game was all coming together, only the outcome would be worse than any before.

More than a sliver of fear rolled into the darkest reaches of my mind. My skin was crawling with the possibilities of what had been set in motion decades before. “That’s where we need to go.”

“Oh, fuck, no. You might not be superstitious, but I am. I’ll call the detective working on the Monahan case. Maybe he can authorize some beat cops to head out there.”

“No, Cash! No. You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t. Come on, Cass. Whatever the reason Cain Demarco was released doesn’t mean he’s a changed man. With the missing girls and several found dead, now Drew, someone is repeating the murders from over thirty years ago. You’re right. It’s dangerous.”

I stopped where I was, leaning against the wall of the living room. “I don’t care. Cain was sent to kill his own sons. Don’t you get it? This may be about a hunt, but they’re the prey. Oh, God.”

“What? What are you talking about? None of this is making much sense.”

“I’ll meet you at the road. His house is on Wentworth Drive. Please just be there. Please.”

“Fine, I’ll come, but we are not going to that fucking house. Just wait. Stay inside. I think you’re in danger. This doesn’t feel right.”

I heard Cash’s increasing concern, but at this point, I doubted I truly was in danger. At least not yet. Cain had one thing in mind, creating some legacy for his family. Whatever he had planned was brutal as well as deadly.

“I’ll be fine. I just need your help for a little while.”

“Almost there. Wait. What the fuck?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. There’s an accident up ahead.” Cash groaned.

Wilder. What if he’d been killed on the way there? No. His father wanted all three sons to play the game.

“I’ll come to you,” he insisted.

“No. Don’t. Don’t do it!”

Pop! Pop!

The sound of gunfire exploded in my ear. “Cash. Cash!”

Suddenly, his line went dead.

Shaken, I rushed toward the front door while shoving the phone into my back pocket. One way or the other, I was going to find my hunter. Then we would hunt together.

Cash had to be alright. So did Wilder. I’d kill the man’s fucking father with my bare hands if necessary.

In my mind, I knew how the game should end and in truth, I salivated over the thought of watching a monster die.

Maybe Wilder would allow me to drive the final blow. It would seem the Stalker was right.

I was more like him than I’d given myself credit for.

As I frantically unlocked the door, I allowed my heart to accept all the emotions that had been swirling inside. I loved the man. It shouldn’t be possible, but I didn’t care. I loved Wilder Blackwell. The moment I opened the door, I was pulled into a dark abyss sent straight from hell from the dark eyes staring back at me.

The eyes of the devil himself.