Page 51 of His Sinner

This must have something to do with what he said last night about April. How apparently Saint believes she isn’t my stalker even when the evidence is so blatant. Even after I’ve literally caught her following me around.

My ringtone blasts, making me jump. Trevor.

For a moment, my heart drops. What if this is Saint calling me from Trevor’s phone after he killed him? He hates any man who glances my way, let alone a man I call a friend. A man who’s been trying to help me get Saint thrown behind bars.

“Hello?” I croak into the phone.

“Hey, sorry. Did I wake you?”

I nearly collapse with relief at Trevor’s voice on the other end. “Hey! No worries. I was already up.”

I get that Saint wants to protect me, but Trevor’s always been on my side. He has nothing to worry about.

“Oh, good. I needed you to hear this as soon as possible.” A note of urgency tinges Trevor’s typical easygoing tone. “Remember the footage you wanted me to get from the parking lot to see who vandalized your car?”

I sit up, tucking the blanket to my chin. “Yes?”

It must’ve been April. If we have video proof of her smashing the window on my car, I can take that to the police when I file a report about her stalking me. There’s no way she’ll get away with it now.

Trevor sighs like he knows I’m not going to like what he has to say. “It was your student. Saint de Haas.”

My heart stops. I can’t hear anything for a moment as a buzz drones in my head. “What? No. It can’t be him. You must have the wrong guy.”

Maybe the footage shows the vandal at a distance. A tall man who happens to share a similar stature to Saint. But it can’t possibly be him because the Saint de Haas I know would never do something like that.

“I’m sorry. I know he got to you.” Another sigh. “I hate that I have to be the one to tell you.”

I shake my head. I don’t care what Trevor thinks he saw—he’s wrong. “There’s no way the person who smashed the window was Saint. He wouldn’t do that. He wants to protect me, not hurt me.”

“Is that what he told you?” Trevor’s tone is sympathetic now. “A man doesn’t break into a woman’s house to keep her safe, Briar. He’s there to take. Whatever he wants.”

My cheeks are burning even as I know in my gut that Saint can’t be responsible. “I need to see the footage.”

The distance probably distorts the image. Maybe it really is April, but the footage is too grainy. Even if Trevor can’t properly identify her, I can.

“I’ll get it to you as soon as possible,” he promises.

My phone buzzes. A message from my stalker. My heart sinks. April is still after me, and I’m no closer to stopping her.

She sent me a video.

“Hey, can you hang on a second? My stalker just sent me a video.”

“Oh, fuck. Maybe you shouldn’t watch it.” A note of wariness in Trevor’s voice. “Who knows what it is.”

He’s right to be wary. My stalker has never sent me a video before. If I watch this, who knows what I’ll see. But I can’t ignore it. She sent me this video for a reason.

“I have to. Hang on.” I mute myself before I click on the video.

The video displays a dark room, and when I turn up the volume, I regret it as the huffs and moans of a couple fucking in a chair fill my ears.

The man is filming, proudly displaying the woman straddling his lap and riding him. A blonde woman with her hair in a ponytail. A Roman nose, delicate jawline, slender build.

April Emmons.

Revulsion twists my stomach. She tips her head back to let out a whiny moan.

Did she fuck a man and ask him to film it just to send it to me? Why?

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