Chapter 8 Knight #2
“My thoughts exactly,” she mutters, sounding sick to her stomach. “But I kept going, and when I reached his hands, I found more carvings on each of his knuckles. Ten fucked-up little jagged letters. And shit, Knight. It spelled out my name. Harper-Rayn across his knuckles.”
I fly to my feet, my eyes wide as I gape at the beautiful woman sitting in horror on my couch. “Your fucking name?” My stomach knots with unease, and I quickly realize this is more than just another bad case. This is related to the bullshit that went down during her last shift. Her stalker.
Harper nods. “That’s not even the worst part.”
“How the fuck is that not the worst part?” I demand, beginning to pace my living room, desperate to get to the bottom of this. The idea of some asshole targeting her like this makes me want to break.
“When I started the internal portion of the autopsy, I found a black rose,” she tells me on autopilot, trying to distance herself from the horror of it all.
“Just like the one that was left on the table the other night. It had been shoved up in the ribcage. All the organs had been disturbed, and the heart—”
Harper whimpers and cuts herself off, and I drop down on the couch beside her, taking her delicate hand in mine. “Tell me, Harper. You’re safe now.”
She clutches my hand like it’s her only lifeline, and I don’t dare pull away. “There was something off about the heart. It had been disturbed in a different manner, and when I started to inspect it, I found more carvings.”
“What did it say?”
Harper visibly swallows. “Tag, you’re it.”
“The fuck?”
“Yeah,” she mutters. “I didn’t hang around much longer.
I closed up as quickly as I could and came straight here.
I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before.
I just—I don’t know what to do. The other night they were just watching me and leaving a black rose, but this .
. . Whoever this is has escalated, and now some poor guy was brutally murdered just for the sole purpose of this asshole sending me a message.
I can’t be responsible for that. I never asked for this. ”
“I know,” I say, pulling her closer to me. “It’ll be okay. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you’re sure as hell not responsible for this. We’ll get to the bottom of it, and I’ll find this asshole. I swear, Harper, I’m not going to let him hurt you. You’re safe with me.”
“You can’t promise me that,” she says, her big eyes filling with tears. She hastily pulls away from me and wipes her eyes on the back of her hand before getting to her feet. “I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m all kinds of fucked up right now.”
I stand and take both of her hands, demanding her full attention, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how her body immediately calms at my touch.
“We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” I vow, holding her stare until she understands how deeply I mean each word that comes from my mouth. “I will not let you get hurt.”
Harper holds my stare. “I’m not cut out for this having a stalker bullshit.”
“No one ever is,” I tell her, reluctantly releasing her hands. “Have you spoken to anyone about this? Detective Gray?”
She shakes her head. “No. I wasn’t sure if I should. I want to, but what if all I do is aggravate this guy and make it worse? I don’t know the procedure here.”
I nod, understanding her worries, and if she were anyone else, the first thing I would do is go straight to my team, but the idea of aggravating this asshole only to have him escalate even more doesn’t sit well with me.
“Look, leave it with me. I’ll swing by the morgue tomorrow and check it out. Gray should have some leads by now. I’ll see what they know. In the meantime, I think you should stay here tonight. You’re in no condition to drive.”
She shakes her head, and I see the refusal on her lips. “I—”
“Don’t even think about arguing with me, Harper-Rayn. You’re staying in my spare room whether you like it or not.”
She cringes. “Are you sure that’s really a good idea?
” she questions, guilt flashing in her eyes, and suddenly I don’t think it’s her current situation she’s referring to.
It’s the intense sexual tension she feels between us.
The same one I’ve felt since the moment I met her.
And she’s fucking right. Having her sleeping under my roof isn’t a good idea, but I’m not about to turn her away.
“What seems to be the problem, Morticia?” I ask her, my lips quirking into a wicked grin. “Don’t think you can keep your greedy little hands off me?”
Harper sputters in shock, her eyes widening with surprise. “I, ummm . . .” She scoffs, clearly not having expected me to voice the one thing we’ve both shamelessly ignored for years. “I’m glad you think so highly of yourself, but that’s not going to be a problem for me.”
“Right,” I say, stepping past her. I make my way toward the hallway while calling over my shoulder. “I’ll grab you some dry clothes. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Wait. Knight,” she rushes out, hurrying a few steps after me.
I pause at the opening of the hallway and turn back, meeting her haunted stare through the darkened room. “What’s up?”
“When you speak to Detective Gray tomorrow . . .” She cringes and lets her words fall away.
“Don’t worry,” I murmur, eating up her innocence and knowing that with one touch I could shatter that innocence like glass. “I’ll keep your name out of it.”
Harper nods, and her eyes fill with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Get some sleep,” I tell her.
And with that, I make my way down the hallway, wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to go all night without putting my hands on this girl and fucking her out of my system. One thing’s for sure, it’s going to be the hardest night of my life.