Chapter 10
TEN
KAT
‘There you are,’ the masked man says, and the way his voice thickens catches me off guard.
When I’d seen a shadow moving past my window earlier, I’d armed myself, ready to confront the fucker once and for all, but whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t for three words to so thoroughly uproot me.
The figure lurking in the alley is tall and broad and could definitely kill me if he wants to do so. My throat goes dry as I hold the knife tighter.
It takes me a minute to see the bright pink hearts painted on the black balaclava. Everything from his jaw to his hairline is covered. Two pink, uneven hearts.
My stomach tightens.
I’d spent two weeks convincing myself was paranoia that I am being followed, that it’s more than just notes. I’d lain in the dark with a stone in my hand and let Ellie talk me out of believing my instincts.
I wasn’t imagining anything.
‘Who are you?’ I whisper.
He still hasn’t moved. Just stands there, those painted hearts circling dark eyes that stare at me with a stillness that makes my skin crawl.
‘You know who I am, Kat.’
He’s not frightened of the knife. Or me.
He takes a step closer, the light from the doorway falling across his masked face, those deep brown eyes glowing with a warmth that I remember.
But the notes. The stone in my hand while I slept. You’re next scraped into my car. Him, outside my window. How many nights had I lain there thinking I was safe because the door was locked, while he stood in the alley like a fucking weirdo?
The fear tips over into anger.
‘Take off the mask,’ I demand.
‘No.’
‘Take. It. Off.’ I attempt to sound fierce, but I’m not convinced I do. ‘Show me your face. Why are you doing this to me?’
‘What do you think I’m doing?’
‘Stalking me. Writing me threatening notes. Marking up my fucking car.’ I take a step toward him and steady the knife. ‘You’re next scraped into my door.’
My throat feels tight as my eyes sting, the stress of the past few weeks bubbling up.
‘Do you find it fun? Making me freak out. Did you enjoy it?’
Those eyes shift behind the mask, one gloved hand flexing.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he says.
‘Don’t you lie to me.’
‘There was a man in your alley tonight,’ he says. ‘I lost him in the industrial estate. He knows the area. He’s been here before.’
I stare at him. ‘And who the hell gave you permission to watch over me?’
‘I couldn’t help myself. But the notes weren’t me. Or the car. I promise, Kat.’
The way he says my name sounds almost reverent. Not like a guy looking to scare me. For the first time, I let myself wonder if it could really be him. The boy from the woods…
No, Kat. Don’t be a pillock. You can’t just believe a lunatic in a mask.
‘Then take off the mask,’ I say. ‘Show me who you are.’
‘Not yet.’ His focus settles on my face. ‘But you know who I am.’
‘I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want or how long you’ve been outside my flat or how you got into my—’ I stop.
My denial of him registers in his eyes, and the way he sets his shoulders.
‘The summer you were eight. I first held your hand after I gave you the stone you wear around your neck.’
It feels like the world lurches and the knife loosens in my hand.
‘You used to bring me sandwiches and wash my hair in the stream.’
My hand moves to the stone at my throat to steady myself, but I freeze when I see the way he stares at it.
‘You found it in the water,’ I whisper, my mind going back to that moment. To the way the gap-toothed boy held the wet rock out for me.
‘I’ve looked for you so many times.’ The throaty voice makes my stomach flip.
The knife clatters to the floor as I stumble back, bracing against the brick wall. Before I know it, my knees go, and I’m going down. He’s there in a moment, catching me with an arm around my waist. I want to pull away, but it’s like someone’s stolen all the bones from my body.
It can’t be him.
Can’t be.
Here in the flesh with his hands splayed over my spine after so many years have passed.
I look up at the mask. To the eyes beyond. The deepest brown flecked with amber in the light.
It’s him.
There’s no denying it. But it doesn’t mean I can trust him. If what he says is true, then someone else is after me. And I’ve no idea who. Not a single suspect.
Up close, with his hands on me, the fear has dissipated. Replaced by the warmth of him. It’s affecting my ability to think clearly, and I am very aware of how close he is. How gently he holds me, and the way my heart gallops.
‘I’ve never heard your voice,’ I say in the end.
‘I didn’t have one. Not until… after.’
I raise my hand, and he stills the same way he used to. Like a cornered animal, if you moved too quickly near him. Bracing for something bad to happen. I graze my fingertips over the cloth of his mask, marvelling that he’s really here.
‘What’s your name?’ I ask.
‘Not yet, Kat.’
‘I thought you were angry with me after what happened. I thought you’d come back to make me pay.’
‘No. You saved me.’ He doesn’t hesitate.
‘It’s been so long.’
‘Fourteen years. One month,’ he says, lifting me to my feet. ‘Two weeks. Three days.’
A quiet pause as he sets me right in front of him. ‘Fifteen hours and thirty-three minutes.’
The breath goes out of me.
‘Thirty-eight maybe,’ he shrugs.
‘You kept count?’
‘Every day.’
As I stand there barefoot in a freezing alley, with the masked man who has been counting every single minute of fourteen years, I do something monumentally stupid.
‘Come inside,’ I say.
He pulls out his phone, and his whole stance changes.
‘I can’t. Not tonight.’
It feels like a kick.
‘You’ve been stalking me like a freak, and when I invite you in, you don’t want to come? Oh, I get it. It’s only fun when I don’t know you are there?’
‘No. It’s not like that. I’ll be back soon, I promise. And I’ll be watching for whoever is bothering you.’
‘Oh great, you’ll be watching me. So reassuring.’
‘I’ll kill him if he tries to hurt you.’
‘You can’t kill people,’ I breathe, but the shock of his statement is followed by a rush of something hot. He’d kill for me? It should terrify me, but for the first time in weeks, I feel like someone’s in this with me. He knows about my past. And I know about his.
‘I can. And I will.’
I back up against the wall as he steps toward me, caging me in.
I shouldn’t let him, but I have little choice as he very much towers over me.
My breath catches when he cups my jaw in his gloved hands, leaning forward until his covered mouth is just an inch from me, those heart eyes blurring my vision.
‘I’ve dreamt about this moment so many times. I barely allowed myself to hope you’d remember me.’ His thumb grazes my throat, making me feel a rush of heat and vulnerability.
Then he steps back, cold night air filling the space between us.
He stoops, picking the knife up from the ground and holding it out handle-first. I take it.
‘Lock the door. Keep your curtains pulled. I’ll be back soon, and I want to see these notes.’
‘And if it’s you knocking?’
He looks at me for a long moment. Those painted hearts unsettling in the dark.
‘I won’t knock,’ he says.
And then he leaves me standing alone in the cold with a knife in my hand and my brain fucking scrambled.
I go in, locking the door behind me.
I take the knife to my room and slip it under my pillow. Just in case.
He’s back.