40. Got Him
40
Got Him
Victor’s voice was my light in the dark. “Keep driving. Has he seen you?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell.” Shining my headlights over there would only create a glare.
His phone picked up the clip of his hurried steps. “Drive through without slowing down. Exit onto the main road, and let me know if he follows.”
I leaned over my steering wheel. “Which way do I go?”
“Turn left,” he said.
God, I loved the rumble of his confidence. Was it terrible to be turned on in a crisis?
I flicked the turn signal and glanced in the rearview mirror. Nothing. The car was still chilling. “Maybe it’s not him. I’ve got a complex about red cars now.” I chuckled without conviction.
His keys jingled in the background. “Trust your instincts.”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and nodded. The car crept out from the parking lot. “He’s coming,” I said. “He must have seen me.”
Victor exhaled sharply. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. We can meet at the police station. Unless—would you be comfortable coming here?”
I wasn’t sure. “I…I don’t want to put you at risk.”
“I won’t be.”
It was a promise. Or a threat to whoever was following me.
I accelerated, turning left on a stale yellow light. The red car stalled at the intersection. Good. My blood raced. A minute of buffer was better than none.
Victor’s voice rumbled through my adrenaline spike. “We have security.”
“You mean Officer Holland?” I balked. That man was never in a hurry.
“No.” Humor tinged his tone, though he sobered quickly. “We live in a gated community. We can put you on the list to get through and have the police ready to take over.”
“Okay.” How the hell was he so efficient in a crisis?
“I’ll text you the address, although I’m happy to provide directions to the station if you prefer. I’ll meet you anywhere, Kat,” he said.
In my bones, I knew he meant it.
“I’m coming to your place,” I decided.
“Glad to hear it.”
A combination of his steady voice and my GPS led me to a clean, shady grove on the other side of the suburb. Private Property. No outlet. A security office manned a full-length iron gate and a camera pointed at approaching visitors.
Fuck me if I couldn’t get in. The red car’s headlights peeked around the corner in search of my destination.
A buff guy with pale blue eyes regarded me from a security station. “Name and business?”
“Kat Silver. Er—maybe Katherine? I’m here for Victor Sterling.”
The guy glanced at his screen, then clicked a button. “Go ahead.”
I half-expected the gates to screech upwards like a rusty guillotine, but they hummed with electric current and glided apart. If only Victor’s emotional walls were that easy to open.
I followed a paved road past mansions with huge hedges and manicured lawns. Victor stood outside a white brick house with black, angled panels on the roof and tinted windows. Little black orb cameras hung from every corner of his home. He waved me into a two-car garage. His car was on the street, so he must've made room for me.
My hands shook as I parked and grabbed my phone. “Was that bulletproof glass out front?”
He jogged to open my door. “Yes.”
“Congrats on your purge-proof house, I guess.” I cracked a smile.
He slow-blinked and offered his hand. “You never know who you’ll need to protect.”
Fuck this romantic man.
I slipped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest. Sage and sweat wafted off his clothes. Part of me wanted to rub my face all over him just to feel safe again.
He barely had time to hug me back before a girl’s voice snapped through a speaker. “He drove off, but we got him on camera.”
I clutched Victor and looked around. “Who said that?”
“My sister’s on the intercom.” Victor saluted the camera.
I summoned an awkward smile and waved. “Hi, Victor’s sister.”
“You already met her. The spider tech. Goes by Zero in public,” he said.
“In public?” I tilted my head. Why wouldn’t he introduce us properly at the theater?
Her voice buzzed into the night air. “Running the plates now. Looks like they match what you have on file for Sam. I’m not sure it’s enough evidence for harassment charges.”
My phone pinged. I flinched and checked the message. It was from a random number.
I just want to talk
Victor stroked the back of my neck. “Who’s that?”
“I think it might be Sam.” I showed him the message chain. “I turned my phone off while I was at my parents. When I turned it on and saw the preview amid a bunch of messages, I thought—” My breath hitched. “I thought maybe you wanted to talk to me.”
“I did.” On his phone, he showed me our message thread.
Victor: You didn’t stay for a movie?
Victor: I have a million things I’m supposed to be doing and all I can think about is you. I want to hold you. I want to make sure you’re okay.
Victor: Are you okay?
Victor: I’m sorry. I can try to open up more. Can we talk?
I smiled and nudged his side. “Wow. Four messages in a row. I’m sorry I missed them.”
He swiped through his phone. “I was about to camp out at your apartment.”
“I would’ve preferred it be you.” I shivered. The night would’ve been a lot more pleasant.
“I’m here now.” He rubbed my arm and hugged me close.
His cold fingertips anchored my racing thoughts. I wanted to come home to him every day—warmth seeping between our bones, our kisses summoning sparks. Would he ever let me into his mind, though?
He stroked my hair and compared our phones. “We should head inside. The number texting you matches Sam’s contact information.”
I groaned and glanced over my shoulder. “What are we supposed to do? T.P. his house? File for a restraining order?”
“Whatever you want. I can think of several punishments I’d love to enact on him,” he growled.
My mouth watered at the idea of Victor donning a leather trench coat and stalking through blue-lit alleyways for his target. Sam didn’t factor into my fantasy. In my mind, Victor would be focused on me. He’d run his fingers—or maybe a knife—up the backs of my knees. He could cut the clothes from my body. He would take me from behind, my tits and palms scratched on the exposed brick. He’d mist against my neck, his grip tight on my hips as he purred sweet nothings into my ear like, “You’re so tight, Miss Silver.”
In the fantasy, I’d clutch his hand. “Tell me what you are.”
He’d nip my neck, his voice a ragged gasp. “Yours.”
A pleasant tingle shot down my spine. I shivered and shook my head. Now was not the time to mentally fuck my Spider-Man, no matter how tempting it was to slip into another reality.
I raised my chin to meet his dark gaze. “What happened with the stalkers you dealt with before?”
Victor frowned, his thumb gentle against the crook of my neck. “They got dismissed from their programs and slapped with restraining orders. Not that it helped.”
I glanced at the mansion. “Did they ever show up at your house?”
“They sent stuff to our old place,” he said, his voice hollow.
Shit. I could only imagine horse’s heads hidden in bed sheets and creepy magazine-cutout style letters. “Were you able to intimidate them away or did ignoring them solve it?”
He shook his head. “It was difficult. Half the time, they were anonymous strangers on the internet.”
I grimaced. Poor Sterling fam. “What about the other half?”
“Assholes in tech.” He glared at the road and clenched his fist. “Apparently, the field is rife with sexual harassment. More than one man in the robotics program spammed my sister with dick pics, then threatened her when she denied their advances. Others tried to figure out her schedule to corner her after long labs. I would walk her to class as often as I could to deter them.”
“My sweet Spider-Man.” I squeezed his hand.
He ruffled his hair, and color crept up his neck. “You'd have done the same for Tori. I’d watch movies or hand my sister tools until we could leave. But her program said I was a liability. So, I stayed home, and she built a taser into our key rings.” He showed me a USB-looking thing amid his keys.
I touched the prongs hidden on one end of it. “Wow, that’s badass. Security is okay with this?”
“They don’t notice it. But her team did. Her higher-ups threatened to take her off projects because of the hostile work environment,” he said, clutching the keys until they splayed out between his fingers like knives.
I gaped at him. “They didn’t punish the guys at all?”
“Slaps on the wrist. They didn’t want to ruin morale with reassignments or firing people’s friends. So, they did an electronic sexual harassment seminar and asked my sister to deal with it.” He flexed his shoulders. “She got a restraining order on the worst offender, but not all of those degenerates were deterred. In fact, they doxed her.”
I gasped and clutched his arm. “They leaked her address?” They probably went to online forums and invited others to harass her.
He nodded and clenched his jaw as we headed into the house. “She left the program. Sued their asses. Afterward, we moved here, and she changed her name. We kept to ourselves. Built programs. Watched movies.”
I imagined the two of them locked in this fortress with only the flicker of projections and welding guns to light up their days. They were isolated but safe. The garage door groaned on its way down to seal us within.
Victor lowered his voice and glanced at the cameras as he unlocked the door. “I hired her to make The Widow animatronic in the hopes she’d find her love for robotics again.”
“You’re a good brother,” I whispered, running my fingers down his chest.
“I’m not entirely altruistic,” he rumbled, stepping closer until our bodies were flush. “Although it would’ve been a triumph in her career as Zero, I hoped her creation would breathe some life into the theater—life I didn’t feel until you walked in.”
My body thrummed with wonder. No wonder he’d been so closed off. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Are you okay? This stuff with Sam has to bring up bad memories.”
He looked down, his bangs falling over his face. “I don’t want to lose you.”
I grounded my hands in the scruff of his hair. “Sam’s not going to chase me off or get to me. I’m strong. And we’ll be a team.”
He shook his head. “I failed to protect my sister, and I know I may not communicate as easily as people in the movies, but I’ll keep trying. I’ll do anything. I…I…” His eyes flashed and his keys bit into my back. “Will you move in with me?”
The door creaked open with a cool breeze, and every hair on my body prickled with possibility.