Page 58 of With Spite

For five years now, I’d looked at that photo of her and wondered about her.

For five years, I obsessed about a person that I would never meet.

But then she walked into a club party with her brother, and my entire life had rearranged itself. Around her.

I knew that one day she would be mine.

I also knew that I had to play this safe.

Creed was protective as fuck over his sister. When I’d approached her the first time, he’d pulled me aside and asked me to stay away from her.

I couldn’t say I blamed him.

Before she’d walked into my life, I’d been with quite a few women. Always searching for the one that I would never have. The women were like water to me. I used them because they were necessary to function, but there was nothing special about them. I didn’t want more past the quenching of my thirst.

And I hadn’t necessarily treated them all that well, either.

I never made any promises.

I never tried to take anything further than a night. What would be the point when my obsession lay around someone else?

I’d built my reputation brick by brick.

That was why, when Creed told me to stay the hell away from her, I had.

For a time.

But, because I was obsessed with her, I didn’t let her slip away.

In fact, I’d gone about ensuring that she was safe and protected, watching her every move.

Watching her, though, came with a downside.

I saw the way she suffered, and I fucking hated it.

Hence the medication in my truck that I kept there for her.

Just in case.

“Because there were several other people that were killed that looked like you. An agent that was tied to your case. And I don’t believe in coincidences. Your mom went missing.” I frowned. “You just internet searched her name?”

“I do a Google search of the town every now and then. To keep up with everything. Just in case I ever hear anything about the serial killer,” she explained. “I guess you’re right. But like I said. I made no apologies for how much I hated my mother. Why would he go after her when he knows that I won’t give a shit?”

“Because she looks like you?” I guessed. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know?” She pinched me.

My lips twitched. “Do you want to know the truth?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Of course I want to know the truth.”

I stood, dropped down to a crouch, and my hands went to either side of her hips. “I’ve wanted you for five years.”

She blinked. “You what?”

“I saw you on television when I was in the middle of Iraq,” I said. “Watched you plead your case to a news crew in front of the state capitol. Begging for them to give your brother a chance. Watched as you begged and pleaded, and no one did a thing.”

Her mouth fell open.