Page 83 of Sangre
“Yeah. I left it in the trunk when I was at my parents’. In my world, you can never be too sure about what’s going to happen from one minute to the next. I’ll be back.”
After a thorough check of the whole house, he climbed the basement stairs then froze when he heard Isla scream. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he raced up the rest of the way and dashed into the living room, gun in hand.
She sat on the couch, her face a mask of fear, a piece of paper on the rug by her feet.
“What the fuck’s wrong?” he asked, sprinting to her. He bent down and picked up the paper. He saw an envelope on the coffee table addressed to her.
“I found it on the floor under my mail box. He’s going to kill me. I’m going to die,” she muttered.
He pulled her to him and wound his arms around her trembling body. “I’m never gonna let that happen. You have to trust and believe in me. Okay? Do you trust me that I’ve got your back? Look at me.” He pushed her away slightly and cupped her face between his hands. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes. I do,” she whispered. “Oh, Sangre.” Isla smiled weakly and put her hands on his thighs, and he crushed her to him, rocking her back and forth until she stopped shaking and relaxed in his arms.
As she sat pressed to his side, her head resting on his chest, he looked at the letter.
I see you. I watch your every move.
I know your daily routine. Where you go.
I stalk from behind the trees, the rocks.
I lurk in the darkness. Face hidden. Knife gripped tight.
I’m your shadow… your constant companion.
No one can save you.
I creep closer and closer. Waiting for the kill.
If I can’t have you, nobody will.
♥♥♥Your Best Fan♥♥♥
Anger seared his nerves, curled tightly around his muscles, and bubbled under his skin; it was like acid—burning, slicing, potent.I’ve got to find this psycho and give him everything he’s given to Isla and the other women. I need to talk to Steel, Paco, and Diablo tomorrow.
“Isn’t that creepy? This is the worst one yet.” Isla said in a hushed voice.
“He’s a fuckin’ bully who gets off on scaring you.”
“But he’s killed four other women.”
“You don’t know if it’s the same person. It could be someone obsessed with you who wants you to believe he’s the killer.”I don’t believe that shit one bit, but I’ve got to ease her mind.
She sat upright. “I never thought of that. That actually makes sense. Should I show the letter to the sheriff?”
“No harm in doing it. I’ll go with you in the morning.” He brushed his lips across hers. “We should get some sleep.”
After turning the lights off on the main floor, they went up to her room. As she washed up, Sangre stood by the window looking out at the street. The neighborhood was quiet, and all the houses were dark.Are you out there, motherfucker? He stared at the trees in front of her house and the ones in front of the neighbors’, but he couldn’t see anything. It was quiet as a graveyard.
“See anything?” Isla asked.
Giving the street one last look, he closed the shutters and moved away from the window. “You live in a quiet neighborhood.” He went over to the bed and stripped off everything except his boxers then slid between the sheets.
“That’s why I love it here.” She joined him under the covers.
He tugged her to him and held her close. She snuggled deeper into him, and he lightly ran his hand up and down her arm, smiling when he felt her skin pebble underneath his fingertips.
“I feel so safe in your arms,” she whispered.
He squeezed her tight and kissed her hair. Her breathing deepened as she fell asleep. Staring up at the ceiling, he knew sleep wouldn’t come as easily for him. Thoughts whirled around in his mind: Isla, Carrie Nolan’s murder, the threatening letter, Jefferson High, the killer. He couldn’t let her get hurt. They’d finally found each other after all those years apart. He couldn’t lose her.
All at once, she had become someone very special to him.
And he meant to keep it that way.
