Chapter 12 #4
She’d already strung him along, then tried to dump him.
Which was unacceptable. Women didn’t end relationships with him, he ended them.
When he was done, when he took what he wanted, he got rid of them permanently and moved on to the next.
Women were trash. Not worth the ground they walked on. They existed only to serve men.
And there was no way he was letting Kara Guthrie get away before he was done with her.
He’d spent the week after the flooding in Asheville trying to track her down, only to be met with one dead end after another.
Until he’d sweet-talked a woman who’d worked at one of the recovery centers after the storm.
She’d gushed about the hot helicopter pilots from Norfolk who’d come down to help rescue stranded flood victims. Going on and on about how amazing they were. How impressive.
How, when one of their own had gone into the floodwaters to rescue a woman found clinging to a tree, the other men stayed until they’d found them both…alive.
It was Kara. Nolan had no doubt. And the asshole pilot had stolen her right out from under him!
No one left him. She was his to do with as he saw fit, and he wouldn’t rest until he taught her that lesson. He’d find her, make sure she understood the error of her ways, then watch the life fade from her eyes as his hands tightened around her neck.
And he was close. So close.
His dick hardened as he thought about how scared she’d be. How she’d fight as he choked the life out of her. Maybe he’d fuck her while he was killing her. That would be a new one for him. The idea made him harder than he’d ever been before.
He’d gone to Norfolk the very next day and staked out the naval base.
Watching and waiting. And as he had while searching for Kara in Asheville, he wore a simple disguise, just in case—a fake mustache, colored contacts, a pair of glasses with plain glass lenses.
Even a stupid fucking wig. He also visited a few local bars, asking questions about the helicopter pilots stationed nearby.
He’d learned the hotshots were called Night Stalkers—and it pissed him off to hear how everyone seemed to be in awe of the assholes.
Fuck them.
Then by pure chance, after just a few days in town, he’d spotted a man in a flight uniform leaving the base…and decided to follow him and the bitch he was with. They led him to an apartment complex, getting out of their old-ass Ford Taurus. The woman was hugely pregnant. Gross.
Over the next two days, he followed them, noting where they went, who they talked to.
Then he finagled a run-in with one of the women they’d visited in another apartment complex.
She was out walking her stupid mutt one morning when he “just happened” to be walking by.
They struck up a conversation, and after he smiled, flirted a little bit, he could see the interest in her eyes.
He’d asked her out for coffee, and she’d accepted.
He’d met with her a few times now, and like with all bitches, all he had to do was turn on the charm and she practically rolled over. She was another easy mark, and Nolan was thrilled to learn she was friends with some of the very helicopter pilots he was stalking.
Even better—she knew Kara. His Kara.
Nolan smiled. He was closing in. And it felt fan-fucking-tastic.
He could practically taste the fear Kara would experience when he confronted her.
But first, he needed to do recon. The bitch he’d targeted was extremely chatty.
He knew all about her job, finding people who were stupid enough to get lost. Knew how much she loved her damn dog—he was definitely taking that fucking mutt out before he left with Kara, because he hated dogs—and everything about her girlfriends.
And thanks to trailing his mark, he knew where those girlfriends lived, the names of their boyfriends and, most importantly, where his Kara was staying.
He was in luck, because she’d holed up in a house, not an apartment complex.
Ultimately, it would make it easier to get to her…
but he wasn’t ready. He needed to set up the place where she’d spend the rest of her days.
Once that was prepared, he’d make his move.
Until then, he’d watch and wait.
The door to the house opened—and seeing her standing in the doorway suddenly had anger rising in Nolan.
She looked good. Really good. She should be fucking miserable without him!
Should be homeless and dirty and destitute after he took everything she owned.
At the very least, scared shitless of when he’d find her again. Because she knew he’d never let her go.
Yes, she might think he was dead. After all, he’d killed the man he’d picked up on the road while fleeing the cabin, then made sure his body would be found burnt to a crisp.
He’d purposely put the man in his own car to make it seem as if he’d died.
He’d had no doubt Kara would snitch on him if she had the chance, so he’d done what he could to cover his bases, and hopefully Nolan Colins would be declared officially dead soon enough.
But it didn’t matter. He’d already been reborn, using a new name, a disguise, and money he’d stashed in an account under that alias…just in case. He was always prepared.
Yeah. Kara probably looked so happy because she thought he was dead.
Well, the bitch was wrong. He wasn’t dead, and he was coming for her.
It didn’t matter that she’d probably whored herself out to the pilot in return for a place to stay.
Nolan would kill anyone who got in his way. Who got between him and his property.
The door shut, and he frowned, not liking that he couldn’t see Kara anymore.
But her time would come. She’d beg for her life, and he’d laugh in her face as he killed her.
Though not before making sure she understood that she was nothing.
Expendable. Then he’d add another tally mark to his chest and move on. Just as he’d done before.
One day, he’d find the perfect woman for him. Until then, he’d keep trying…and dispose of those who were lesser, who were unworthy. Which was almost all of them.
He’d play the game he’d started, use anyone necessary for intel, and strike when he was good and ready. When Kara least expected it. He couldn’t wait.