Page 24

23

SHILOH

“ M iss Talbot.” A man with gray hair pushes his glasses up his nose and then waves at me.

Dr. Reynolds. Kaleb’s therapist from that place.

My body is on high alert. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

Adrenaline has been soaking my blood since Kaleb caught me gulping down the Plan B pill. Since he told me about the hell he’d lived in.

Since I had to let him go. Out there. Where it isn’t safe.

I’m a live wire, but since I can’t let it show, I pretend to be someone I’m not.

Knowing that I’m burning up from the inside, I double down on the effort to relax my facial muscles.

Gotta fake it to win this round against a psychiatrist. A man trained to read people. Who’s had years of experience.

A man who’s obsessed with finding Kaleb .

He doesn’t have to say that. It’s blatantly obvious, given the fact that he’s here. Outside my building. He drove hours to get here. To talk to me all by himself. No backup. No cops.

He doesn’t want to catch Kaleb. He just wants him.

Shoulders pulled down, a soft smile plays on my lips. My thoughts go back to last night when I fell asleep in Kaleb’s arms.

There it is. Warmth spreads through me. The tension in my muscles bleeds out. I must look sincere since he’s smiling back at me.

“Who’s asking?” I’m close enough that I don’t have to raise my voice. I’m proud of myself for sounding casual, for being Kaleb’s protector.

“Dr. Maxwell Reynolds.” He pushes off his Honda, offering me his hand.

I accept it, shaking it once. When he’s quiet, I tilt my head. A silent question.

Who are you?

I’m not supposed to know that. I couldn’t contact Kaleb while he was locked up. Couldn’t visit. Couldn’t ask about him. Up until this week, I had no idea what his primary psychiatrist’s name was.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself.” Two can play this game, it seems. He pretends this is awkward.

Trying to trick me into being at ease around him.

Never.

His chubby hands smooth over his beige suede jacket. They pat over his gray pants in a nervous gesture .

This quirky, sweet old man act isn’t fooling me. Not when his blue eyes jump around the street, lingering on the building where I live. On the first floor.

Raising my eyebrows, I stick my hands in my pockets. We’re taught not to talk to strangers. For all he knows, he’s a stranger to me.

“Right, I’ll get to it.” His smile widens as his eyes study me. “I’m your brother’s psychiatrist. I work at Berkshire.”

“Oh.” I let my bottom lip hang loose. Let my breath shudder.

A frightened woman would react that way. She’d also need to hide, so I hug my arms around my waist. I do my best even though the lie is lodged in my throat, a huge, uncomfortable lump.

“Do you”—my eyes widen as fake realization dawns on me—“think he’s here? In the city?”

“Miss Talbot.” He presses his glasses up his nose again, his forehead creasing. Whatever he’s searching for, he won’t find it in my expression. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to discuss this? Your home could be better for this type of conversation. You live here, right? At least that’s the information I got from your father.”

This time, my surprise is very fucking real. “You talked to my dad? He told you where I live?”

“Now, now.” His appeasing tone isn’t appeasing me one bit. “There’s no need to get all riled up. He’s worried about you. Everyone is.”

Liar .

My dad worries about one person and one person only. Himself. He doesn’t even care about Kaleb’s mom. He keeps her around for appearance’s sake. His trophy wife.

“You promised him information about me in return, didn’t you?” It’s a hardship to remain calm. To pretend to look scared on top of it. I do it for Kaleb, sneaking glances to the sides. Behind me. “Something good. Something that’ll get me committed.”

Dr. Reynolds eats my act up. His expression softens, forehead smoothing. He clutches onto his shoulder bag.

“Yes. But…” I made him feel at ease, and, in turn, he opened up to me. “I’m afraid that I wasn’t being completely honest with your father. While you’re not my patient, Kaleb is. My most interesting case. Any information I obtain about him is mine.”

Mine.

My hackles rise at his choice of words.

Kaleb is my man. My brother. My soulmate.

He isn’t some circus freak. He isn’t a case study.

The need to bash his therapist’s head against the hood of his car is intense.

“Well, he’s not here. I have no idea where he is.”

“You could be the key to finding him.” My mouth opens to repeat that I have no idea where he is. Dr. Reynolds raises a hand, smile widening. It’s annoying. Condescending. “Rest assured that what we’ll discuss will remain strictly between us.”

“If he ever showed up, it would be my death sentence.” The words flow easily out of me. They’re not really a lie. For a while, I believed them. “He has to hate me for what I did to him. Letting him rot in there. It’s well within his rights. I deserve his hate.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He approaches me. Closes in on me. A whiff of his cologne has my stomach roiling. He’s a man, and he’s standing too close to me. I back up. “Could we continue this conversation inside? I won’t hurt you. You have my word. All I’m asking for is a few minutes of your time.”

He won’t let this go, persistent fuck. I’m wrung out. Upset. Worried about Kaleb, where he is, if he’s safe.

There are so many things on my to-do list today. I don’t have time for this.

Then again, if I don’t talk to him, will he report back to my dad? Will he ask for backup, hint that I’m hiding Kaleb so he can have an excuse to call more PIs?

He might.

Okay. Fuck. I’ll have to let him in.

Good thing Kaleb hasn’t left anything in my apartment. I was there less than an hour ago, and my home looked the same as always. Organized. Clean. Mine.

And as much as the thought of having a strange man alone in my home makes my skin crawl, I’m not truly scared of Dr. Reynolds. He wouldn’t hurt me.

He’s been studying Kaleb for over a decade. He must’ve seen my photos. Dug up information about our case. He knows you don’t fuck with the love of this serial killer’s life.

Just in case he gets too close again, I have my knives at home.

“I have to head out to the police station before I go to class.” Lying would get me absolutely nowhere. He’ll see it on my face and figure out I’ve been untruthful. Then, what else am I hiding, right? Better let it all out. Like, everything. “My phone’s not on me, but I have to make some calls too. Get back to Dad’s lawyers. My professor was murdered last night. I was a witness. So…”

Nothing I say surprises Kaleb’s therapist. The news must’ve hit the internet. And since my theory about his obsession with Kaleb is apparently on point, he has to know the dead professor used to be my teacher.

My blood runs cold. He could be dangerous. Kidnap me or—No. No. I circle back to my former conclusion. There’s no way he’d be so reckless and try anything with me.

Hurting me in any capacity would only serve to get him a knife between the ribs, not information.

Silently, we head inside the building. I stay at a safe distance behind him. I can’t let him smell my breath. Can’t walk ahead of him, where I can’t see him.

He doesn’t argue when I signal for him to head up first. No wonder there. He knows I’m a sexual assault survivor. He’s dug into our pasts, that psycho. He treats me as such.

Goddamn it. Goddamn my father for sending this stalker my way.

As we climb the stairs, I think this through.

Dad must’ve figured out that Kaleb’s doctor had an ulterior motive for coming out here. That he’d be writing a book or publishing a study about us.

He’s figured itout, and he’s still using him. Meaning he’ll get rid of him once Dr. Reynolds brings Kaleb on a silver platter. Meaning that his ex-PI hasn’t been doing a good enough job.

He’s getting restless. He might send a new PI here and soon.

Three days. Kaleb promised that after Halloween, we’re out of here. I have to trust him.

I do trust him.

Once we’re at the door, Dr. Reynolds steps aside, allowing me to open it without crowding my space.

Had it been anyone else, I’d have appreciated his kindness. Seeing it’s this probing asshole, I despise the gesture, much like I loathe everything else about him.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask, making a beeline toward the kitchen.

“No, thank you.”

By the time his voice reaches me, I already have gum shoved in my mouth.

His footsteps echo around the apartment while I curl my fingers around one of the pocketknives I have stashed in my kitchen drawers. I put it in the pocket of my coat.

My insurance policy.

When my breath no longer smells acrid, I spit out the gum and join Dr. Reynolds in my living room. He’s standing there, hands folded in front of him, his stance relaxed.

But his eyes. They bounce around the room. Probing. Searching for any evidence that Kaleb’s been here.

My placid expression is about to crack.

Hold on .

“Please, have a seat.” I lower myself to one couch, gesturing for him to take the other one.

When he’s sitting, he rolls his shoulders. Clears his throat and affixes his stare on me. “I’ll start by reassuring you a second time that Kaleb isn’t out there to kill you.”

“What makes you so sure?” I’m eager to get him out of here. Get this over with. I also need him to reveal his cards. “He’d never been big on talking when we lived together. I can’t imagine him opening up to you. Being that explicit.”

“You’re right. He hadn’t been that open. Hadn’t changed throughout the years he spent at Berkshire.” It’s obvious that he’s itching to take another glance at my apartment. His fingers tap his lap incessantly. “However, I was able to observe him during that period. He was the only one who had a few privileges the others never had. Just so I could learn more about him.”

That prick. He played Kaleb. He let him hold onto my pictures. To the new mask. All so he could see how the animal would react. I bite my tongue. It’s all I can do not to scream.

“Privileges?” I ask while every muscle in my body flexes. My desperate attempt to stay put instead of jumping forward and plucking out his eyes. “What were they? What do they have to do with me?”

“The mask, clearly. I brought him that one myself.” His chest puffs a tiny bit. “He let me ask him two questions for the privilege of keeping it. What it felt like to kill those kids. What he did right after.”

I’m intrigued, but not that intrigued to hear the answers from this guy. I’ll hear it from Kaleb.

My Kaleb.

I clutch the knife in my palm, playing with the thumb stud. One push and the sharp blade pops out, ready to party.

His eyes flicker to my hidden hand, and he nods to himself. “Other than the mask, there were the photos. Yours.”

“What?” My eyes go wide.

It’s the proper expression when hearing shocking news. I hope to God he believes it. That I can become better at lying for Kaleb’s sake.

“Yes, a former patient snuck them past our security. On my orders.”

“Another patient?” Though there’s nothing I want more than to slit his throat, I release my knife, and hug my middle, same as I did out on the sidewalk. “Someone else is after me?”

“Don’t be alarmed. If Kaleb’s accomplice wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now.” A small, reassuring smile to assuage my fears. “What I’m trying to say is thatKaleb loved those photos. Was attached to them. That was how I learned more about him. And consequently, you.”

Calm down. Calm down. Calm the fuck down. You have a full day ahead of you. Shit you have to take care of. None of it includes killing this fucker and hiding the body for treating Kaleb like a lab rat.

This does nothing to soothe my bubbling rage.

So I think about Kaleb.

I imagine him here, in my apartment. Gladly helping me murder his therapist just because I asked him to.

The two of us, Kaleb and me, wielding sharp knives in our hands .

Digging them into his flesh.

Ditching the body where we’d leave it to rot.

Together.

Endorphins simmer in my blood, and I suppress a smile.

“What truly taught me how deep his attachment to you runs was when the photos were stolen from him. Numerous times, unfortunately, despite my constant reprimands.”

The short moment of bliss has been snatched away from under me by Dr. Reynolds. Someone touched Kaleb’s things. Someone taunted him.

Holy shit. So, this is what Kaleb must have felt yesterday when he watched my professor threaten me.

Rapid heartbeats. Burning lungs.

A powerful urge to destroy whatever’s in my path.

I won’t lose control. I won’t let them tear us apart.

Never again.

“I cautioned the guard multiple times over the years.” His eyebrows draw together, lips pursing. He isn’t lying. He didn’t approve of the bullying, even for the sake of his little science project. “Sadly, his uncle runs the hospital. I had no say in the matter of his employment. Kaleb despised him, and I didn’t stop him from retaliating. He’d beat him up and only then did I intervene. I had to fight tooth and nail to keep Kaleb at Berkshire after each time he beat up Dick, the guard. I warned them Kaleb could escape had we moved him. That he could retaliate. I wasn’t wrong.”

He pauses.

My gut tells me his story isn’t over. I wait until he starts talking again .

“They ate it up. Then I had to convince them otherwise when your stepbrother asked for a short trip outside. He swore to cooperate if I just gave him this. I had to, and the board believed me when I said it was necessary.” A sigh. “It pained me greatly to hear of his disappearance. Less so that the abusive guard died as a result.”

I fight another smile, so fucking proud that Kaleb had gotten his revenge on the motherfucker.

“Long story short, I guarantee you, Miss Talbot, you have nothing to worry about. Death is not what he has planned for you.”

Not true. There are seconds, minutes even, that Kaleb fantasizes about killing me.

His eyes go dark, bleak, and painfully honest. His murderous desires bleed out of them. He doesn’t hate me, that’s not it.

He’s curious. Wants to know how easily he could squeeze the life out of me.

He’ll never admit to that. He’ll never do it.

But he thinks about it.

What’s stopping him is his love for me.

My stepbrother demands an eternity together. A disturbing ever after. He wants to consume me. Defile me. Swallow me whole.

Belonging to him means dying and being brought back from the dead every single day for the rest of my life.

Me and our future family.

I tighten my hold around my middle .

Rationally, I’m aware that I’m not pregnant right now. It’s biologically impossible for it to happen.

Emotionally, I see—no, feel —our future as it unfolds before my eyes.

“Considering what I just told you, what are your thoughts on the subject?”

Oh, hell no.

The only reason Kaleb’s therapist is here is to get him off my back, not this . This probing.

How dare he.

“I’m going to stop you right there.” My voice breaks on purpose. Anything to protect Kaleb. Anything to keep the world’s grubby, undeserving paws off him. “Since you’ve contacted my father and probably researched our family, I assume you’ve also looked into my background. You know I majored in psychology. That I’m pursuing my master’s degree these days.”

“Correct.” His honesty brings me relief. Just a little.

I dip my chin. “You can’t analyze me, Dr. Reynolds. Not without my consent.”

My hand is back in my pocket. The knife is hot in my grip and begs me to put it to good use. No. I have things to take care of. Dealing with Reynolds’s corpse isn’t one of them.

Later. Later.

“I—”

“I’m not your patient. I’m not here to entertain you. Nothing about this story is entertaining. You should be ashamed of yourself. ”

My gaze hardens as I think of my stepbrother. About the years he’d been subjected to this man.

The lack of privacy. Being probed and interrogated. Stripped of his humanity. Treated like a case subject instead of a person.

The ache in my chest is like no other. My heart twists. Sinks. Splits down the middle.

Kaleb said he didn’t mind being there so long that he knew I was safe.

Bullshit.

I’ve been under this Peeping Tom’s magnifying glass for less than five minutes and already my skin crawls.

On top of that, he taunted Kaleb for loving me. Un-fucking-acceptable.

“You have to tell me.” Reynolds’s voice grows urgent. He leans forward in his seat. His desire to analyze and learn about our lives is now written all over his face. “About your connection. His motivations. Did you notice his violent nature before he murdered those two boys? Or was it his father’s unsolved death?”

Unsolved?

There’s pressure in my temples. A black spot in my memory that hides something. Something’s repressed back there. I focus, but it’s still black. Still hidden.

Whatever.

I school my features into what I hope is an unreadable expression. No need for Dr. Reynolds to see he caught me unprepared .

Fuck Kaleb’s dad. I never researched what happened to that bastard. I was young, and then I didn’t care.

Maybe I should’ve.

No. Absolutely not.

There are answers out there. I’ll have them.

From Kaleb.

“You’re out of line.” As soon as I get up, his eyes plead with me to reconsider. I point my finger at him. “You’re not welcome here anymore. Not in my home. Not anywhere near me. I’ll be seeing my father’s attorneys today. Leave now, or I’ll ask them to file a restraining order against you.”

“Miss Talbot. Please.” He presses his hands together as he rises from the couch. “Kaleb Blackwood is one of a kind. Some therapists will never encounter anything like him throughout their entire career. You must talk to me. You must let me stay here until he comes. I’m begging you.”

If catching fire was a real thing, I’d have gone up in flames at his words. I’m doing everything in my power to conceal my anger. Everything.

The burning righteousness sears my bones. It hurts. Oh, how it hurts to swallow it down.

For him. Everything for him.

“Get. Out.” I’m losing control. Before I can stop myself, I pull out the pocketknife, aiming the blade at him. “Get the fuck out. You ever come near me again, and I’ll kill you. Trust that I have plenty of money and pull around the city to cover it up.”

He must think that Dad asked for intel out of his love and concern for me. He must believe that he’d help cover up his murder. It’s evident in how he flinches and backs up in the direction of the door.

“Kaleb hasn’t been here.” I watch him like a hawk as he crosses my living room, walking backward. “If he shows up, I’ll be the first to tell him to get out of town. Out of the country. It’s bad enough that someone murdered my teacher?—”

“It could’ve been him,” he whispers, excitement flashing in his eyes.

“No.”

“You sure?”

I scoff at him. “I would’ve recognized my stepbrother.”

“It’s been years.”

“He isn’t fucking short, is he?”

That gives the snooping prick pause. “No, he isn’t.”

“Get out. Send me a selfie of you in front of Berkshire’s gates, holding today’s paper in the next ten hours, or I’m sending a hitman to kill you.” I rattle off my number, which he punches into his phone with trembling fingers.

Silence ensues.

His hand is on the handle of my front door. He isn’t asscared as I need him to be. Isn’t running away fast enough.

What would Kaleb do?

Oh, yes. That .

With the knife still held up in front of me, I cock my head to the side.

“I’ll text you, I promise.” Jackpot . He yanks the door open, his feet scuffing on the floor as he steps out into the hall. Reaches to the inside of his jacket. “Here’s my card, in case you ever change your mind. ”

I give him an impatient look, reminding him he could text me his number. I don’t want anything of his inside my home.

“Yes. Yes. You’ll have my number.” His lips quirk in a tentative smile. “Maybe one more question?”

“Out,” I say in a hushed voice that does wonders to get him out of my life.

Dr. Reynolds shuts the door in my face. I hear him running across the hall.

Good fucking riddance.

I wish I could say that the worst part of the day is behind me.

It isn’t.

My landline rings. Dad’s assistant is on the line, connecting the call to his lawyers so they can tell me the exact time I need to be at the police station.

Yes, I’ll be there in an hour. Fine, we’ll be in and out of there before I know it.

Dad’s orders, they say.

I won’t be made into a spectacle, they promise.

I tell them yes, sure , and I’ll see you there .

I’ll give my statement. I’ll go to my classes.

For Kaleb.

I’ll let him have it. Let him play cat and mouse with me.

After Halloween, we’ll be gone.

Until then, we’ll lie, cheat, and steal to get by.

Probably kill, too.

And I’ll make damn sure we’ll never get caught.

Ever.