Page 4 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Keeper

T here’s no movement inside the house tonight.

The itch to leave the cover of the treeline and peer in the windows is almost overwhelming, but I’m not a fucking idiot. I won’t risk my cover just to check and make sure she’s still alive.

I shouldn’t care what she’s doing, anyway.

I shouldn’t be here at all.

Eric is gone, two hours away from home. Playing criminal games with his handler. That’s where I should be, gathering more intel for the plan I’m about to put into action.

And yet…the pull to come check on the house was impossible to resist, apparently.

She’s here alone, and I shouldn’t be wondering why she’s inside without a single light on instead of working in her garden or filling her bird feeders. The shit she always does before bed.

I wonder what she thought of my flower?

It was a risk, sending that along with her cat the night Bundy had visited.

I questioned myself as I tucked it under the friendly cat’s collar, but something in the way she had looked, standing frozen at her kitchen sink as she stared out the window, had bothered me.

That fucking monster inside, had he said something? Done something?

It shouldn’t matter.

It can’t matter.

And yet? I can’t wait to take that motherfucker out .

Honestly, the dahlia seemed to scare her more, but I’m not here to make her feel good. I’m here because vengeance is coming for the people inside this deceptively normal house.

True—the longer I watch, the more I start pondering the idea that Emma has no idea about her husband. It’s hard to believe that the same woman that I’ve been watching for months has any idea what he’s into. Who he’s involved with.

But experience tells me that the most innocent looking people hide their atrocities the best.

Emma Seaborn.

My hand flinches toward the revolver in my waistband, to the hood I pull further down over my face.

I want to check. To look and see what’s changed, why her routine is different.

But I can’t take the risk. I don’t need to be here.

I need to get eyes on Eric, as the surveillance period winds down and we head into the next phase of our plan. The revenge, my favorite part.

It’s coming.

In fact, it’s almost fucking here.