Page 38

CHAPTER 38

Tristan

Birdie gasps. “I can’t believe I’ve only now connected the dots. Aaron and Saldana died the same way.”

I peer at the stalker’s notes for the millionth time. “And we know Saldana didn’t off herself.”

“That means it’s possible Aaron didn’t accidentally kill himself over an OD either. His suicide could have been staged just like hers.” Her jaw hangs low, and she shakes her head infinitesimally. “Oh my God. Saldana isn’t Butterfly Man’s first murder in my name. He killed for me before. Butterfly Man killed Aaron.”

“Aaron hurt you. He took care of it, looking after you…or so he thought.”

“But wh… What if the creepy calls and messages were from Butterfly Man, not from Aaron? What if that was when it all started?”

I mull it over. “The timeline makes sense. He began watching you, got obsessed, stalked you and found out about Aaron.”

“Yes, because if it started earlier, he would have known about Shane and taken my first husband out of the picture, too, but he didn’t.”

“This is very valuable information, Birdie. Now we know he lived in Miami, and he started stalking you after Shane but before Aaron’s death. I’ll pass it along to the team conducting the background checks for cross-referencing. This helps narrow it down immensely.”

“I still can’t wrap my mind around all of this.” She stares at me in disbelief. “Could this be true?”

Has her stalker’s obsession been twisting for years into an ever-darkening malignancy? Yes, it’s true. I gaze back into her haunted eyes. She’s terrified out of her own skin, as if the monster is here, manifested in the flesh, coiling his evil around her. “There is only one way to find out.”

Her eyes turn into a question, and I point at the proof of infidelity photos. “He thinks he’s taunting us, but I won’t let him win. He’s marked his next victims. All I have to do is watch them and wait for the bastard to make a mistake. One is nothing. Two is a coincidence.”

“Three is a pattern,” she murmurs.

“If either of them dies with a shit load of drugs in their system or in a car crash, we’ll have our answer.”

She gives a grim nod. “I’m scared of finding out.”

I sit beside her. “As long as I’m here, I don’t wanna hear that word from you. I’d die before anything dared touch you again. This is good, Birdie. You should feel safe because that’s how we get him.” I chase her eyes until I’m certain she can see the determination in mine. “That’s how I end him.”

Her breath shudders on her lips. “What if you can’t? What if he kills Gia and Blake and you still haven’t caught him? You know who will be next on his list.”

The last line of defense that keeps him from claiming his prize. Me. “Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold. I’m gonna head out for a while, and when I return, we’ll have to fill Marcus in about the updates. He’ll be your number one as you requested.”

“What? No.”

“Birdie, we agreed that solution would be for the best. We need clear heads to be at the top of our game to beat Butterfly Man. You can trust Marcus.”

“I can’t, not with this.” Her gaze beseeches me. “Tristan, you can’t just take a backseat, not after everything I’ve told you. Those secrets… They must stay between us. Please.”

Her pleas bind me to her side despite every instinct screaming to put space between us. She trusts me, and only me, with her darkest secrets. I am the vault for the demons that haunt her past. How can I deny her my solace when she needs it the most?

I can’t. Even when I’m hyper-aware of the scant distance between us but can’t stop myself from tracing the delicate slope of her jawline, the facets of her face and the terrain of her lips. Even when every moment passes in her proximity, all my energy goes to fighting the urge to do something that could ruin everything between us.

“I’m imprisoned by the tangled impulses that war constantly within me. Protect you from the monsters outside, yet somehow keep you safe from the one I carry inside, stitched into the fabric of my very existence.”

Her gaze holds me transfixed, imploring me to be there for her. “I don’t need protection from you, Tristan.”

I suffocate with everything I can’t give voice to. I’m afraid if I part my lips, every ill-restrained need and unhallowed longing will come barreling out.

Holding my gaze, she flexes her fingers slowly next to mine, and her knuckles feather against my skin. A tremor goes through me, the ghost of a flinch before my body remembers it’s her. The only human whose touch wields comfort instead of pain.

Her eyes drop to our hands, and when she realizes I haven’t moved away, she searches my face for encouragement. I inhale deeply, leaning into the tendril of human connection grounding me, and twine my smallest digit with hers.

I bite my lip on the scorching wave of fire engulfing me at her touch. My heart bangs violently as her lips move with a flicker of a smile. I let my palm meet hers slowly, allowing her delicate fingers to weave between my calloused grip like a lifeline pulling me back from the precipice.

I squeeze her hand gently and carve the feeling on my soul. A memory that can last forever unlike this moment that has to end too soon. My eyes close as I wish to speak out my heart, but I mutter only what she can understand—her own words.

“In that breathless moment, I shored myself against the tide of my own damaged spirit. I would endure and weather any storm to be her sanctuary when the world grew too dark. Her protector, her source of courage in the madness.”