Chapter 26 #2
Christian took a deep breath. “Trust me in that he’d done much worse.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. And my troll?”
“Once again, trust me when I say that everything he said to you was a precursor for what he had planned, including with other women he stalked online.”
It took me a minute to realize what he’d said. “Wait a minute. You really did stalk me, didn’t you? You were inside my house.”
His deep breath was the only affirmative I needed.
“Wow. All the time I felt someone was watching me, that was you, wasn’t it? No, Carrington did at least once. Are all men stalkers?”
“I spent time getting to know you, Penelope.”
“Does that mean you have listening devices? Cameras?”
He chose now to remain silent.
“My God. I don’t know what to say.” I half laughed while a knot formed in my stomach. This was crazy. I was both excited and horrified.
Apparently, neither did he. For whatever crazy reason, I accepted the lengths he’d gone to under the guise of protecting his business, including unaliving another human being. But I couldn’t handle the fact he’d used stalking methods to keep me under surveillance.
As if a light bulb went off, I realized I just couldn’t handle the invasion of privacy. I backed away, holding my arms because I was shaking.
“Penelope.”
“What, Christian? You know that’s not normal behavior. That was all part of the game. Right? Get to know all my secrets, my dark fantasies to use so I’d surrender to you. Right?”
“I told you about the game, but everything has changed between us.”
“Oh, my God. I am such a fool.” I backed away once again, but I was laughing so hard I doubled over.
“You and your buddies were playing not just with me at the conference, but two of the other girls there. Right? Wait…” I thought about Jasmine and Chantal.
“The publisher. The media guy, both who suddenly appeared. The three of you sent the note to our table. I’m watching you.
Those were the words. Each one of us wasn’t certain who sent it. All part of the game.”
At least he didn’t try to deny the lengths he’d gone to so he could be the winner.
At all costs.
Now I was hot. “Answer me this. What was the prize? Bragging rights? Do you have some black book you guys write down who wins? Or was money exchanged?”
“Money? Of course not.” He acted insulted.
Well, fuck him. I reacted. I took two long strides toward him and let loose, cracking my hand across his face. The sound reverberated through the trees.
“You asshole. Here I allowed myself to believe fantasies really could come true, even if you are a little deranged. Take me home.”
“Penelope.”
“No,” I hissed, throwing out my hand. “Take. Me. Home.”
* * *
Was this what wallowing in self-pity was like?
I’d come home exhausted, but unable to sleep, furious with myself for a couple of things. One being that I’d fallen into another trap. Granted, Christian had been very creative in his game, which of course would make some women feel honored.
Had I felt he was playing me? Well, the dance was certainly more of what I liked to call a show and glow, but after that, everything had felt so real.
The heavier load on my heart that was keeping me crazy was that I really had fallen for him. Like some silly lovesick girl.
At least he hadn’t argued with me, taking me home. In fact, he’d done so on the bike, which had controlled our conversation. I’d walked away, slamming the door. And so far, he hadn’t tried to contact me.
The worst part was that I missed him. But he’d killed people because of me. Who did that? A crazy man. A man with no conscience. A man with no heart.
Only I’d seen his heart in action.
And I knew what we’d shared hadn’t been fake.
I paced the floor in my kitchen, struggling even to swallow a cup of coffee. I should be getting back to work, but I couldn’t bear the thought of doing so, and it was already eleven in the morning.
“Oh!” The anguished cry didn’t make me feel any better. Should I finally call the police? And say what exactly? That he’d killed a couple of people? Yeah, right. My guess was the handsome killer knew how to hide all evidence if he’d even been anywhere close to where the murders had occurred.
Plus, there didn’t seem to be any love lost regarding Thomas Atwood. He had been a horrible man.
“Girl. You’re losing it.” My words echoed in the room. Should I tell him how I felt again?
Wait. Hold on.
He’d all but admitted the surveillance. Okay. How? Where?
I glanced around my kitchen, taking a deep breath while I realized I couldn’t tolerate the thought of anyone watching me.
So I decided to tear apart the house.
I flew through the kitchen, opening every cabinet and drawer, searching under the table and on top of the refrigerator. Nothing.
Next was the bedroom, even more furious. I even dumped clothes everywhere searching for cameras or plain old listening devices.
Finding nothing. But the creepy-crawlies were all over me.
The living room had several places where a camera could be hidden. It took me a few seconds to realize the most logical place was in my office.
I tore through every nook and cranny, finding nothing at first. Frustrated as hell, I moved to my desk, leaning against it. The ache inside was worse than before. Was I truly wishing Christian would call? Maybe I was wrong.
After rubbing my eyes, I shifted and the sun was able to pop over my shoulder. Wait a minute. What was that? Very slowly I walked toward a large bookshelf that was on the opposite wall. I had a little dolphin statue on the top shelf and there was something odd about its placement.
As soon as I lifted the metal piece, a small wireless camera slipped to the floor. I’d be damned. I pulled it into my hand, glaring at it for a few seconds while I allowed the rage to increase.
I held it out, plastering a smile on my face. “You think you’re so clever, huh? To hell with you.” Thankfully, I was wearing shoes. I threw it to the floor, enjoying stomping on it several times until the tiny instrument of surveillance was in several pieces.
After that, the painting caught my eye.
Another shiver was unwanted, but so was most of my life at that moment. I slowly walked toward it, glaring at the beautiful piece.
That Christian had wanted me to own.
Why?
Part of the damn game?
I’d had enough, racing into the kitchen and grabbing a knife. As soon as I was back in my office, I raised it high over my head and stormed toward the offensive… incredibly beautiful, heartfelt… work of art.
All my good intentions of destroying it were tossed aside. What was wrong with me? What? The answer was just as simple as before. I loved him. I loved a man capable of vicious crimes.
Wow.
A maniacal laugh erupted and I moved toward my desk, managing to place the knife on the edge without inflicting bodily harm.
With a deep exhale, I opened my laptop lid and shifted my finger across the trackpad. As soon as the screen pulled up, I started to flick on Instagram when a thought entered my mind. The information I’d basically stolen from Carrington before I’d been locked out of my office was on a jump drive.
I’d had full intention of using it against him but had chickened out. In my rush to collect something incriminating, I’d forgotten what I’d snatched off his computer.
It took me a few seconds to find what I was looking for buried in my drawer.
When I pulled up the files, now that I knew what I was looking for, it didn’t take long for me to find it.
“Wow. Carrington. What the fuck?” I sat back, tapping my fingers on my desk. Why should I want to help Christian?
Are you crazy? Do you really need to keep asking yourself the same question over and over again?
My little voice was going to drive me nuts, but she was right.
Our relationship might be over, but Carrington’s intentions were disgusting. I’d need to handle George more delicately, but Christian? He was a big boy. He’d know what to do.
I grabbed my phone, looking up Christian’s contact information.
Then I debated one more time before starting an email.
Yep. I was one crazy girl who was head over heels in love with a real-life monster.