Page 20 of Stalked By Raiden

“R-Raiden…”

Everything inside me stops. Her voice is barely recognizable. Shaky and panicked. She’s crying.

“Elodie?”

A sob breaks through the line. “I came home, and… my apartment…”

The darkness I’ve been keeping at bay rushes to the surface. “What happened?”

“Someone broke in. They d-destroyed everything.” Her voice is shaky.

My grip tightens around the phone. I know it’s Drake. Royal has been working overtime keeping an eye on him, and I know that Drake’s obsession with Elodie has only been growing into a sickness inside of him. But I didn’t know it had escalated.

Ice floods my veins before it’s swallowed by something much hotter. Rage. White-hot, all-consuming rage. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no.”

“Okay. Listen to me.” My voice comes out calm, even though I can barely hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears. “I need you to lock the door and stay exactly where you are.”

“O-okay.”

“I’m on my way.” I end the call before she can hear what I really want to say.

I’m going to kill him. Years of planning. Years of patience. Gone. Every instinct screams at me to drive straight to Drake Krane’s mansion and put a bullet between his eyes. To hell with evidence. To hell with plans. To hell with consequences. The only thing that stops me is Elodie.

She’s scared. She needs me. Nothing matters more than that.

I take a precious few minutes to calm my rage, but soon, I’m climbing the stairs to her apartment. The front door opens before I can knock. She throws herself into my arms. Relief crashes through me so intensely my knees nearly buckle. She’s shaking. Her fingers clutch the back of my shirt as though letting go might send her crashing to the floor.

“I’ve got you.” I wrap both arms around her. “You’re okay.”

“I’m so scared.”

“I know.”

I hold her until her breathing begins to slow. Only then do I look over her shoulder. The apartment looks like a tornado tore through it. Furniture overturned. Picture frames smashed. Glass everywhere. Then I see the roses.

My jaw clenches.

“How did you get here so fast?” she asks, wiping at her eyes.

Damn. I should’ve taken longer. “I was nearby.” The lie comes easily. “Running a few errands.”

She nods without questioning it. Guilt twists in my chest. If only she knew how twisted and jaded I am when it comes to her, she’d assume I’d lost my mind. Maybe I have. She notices me staring at the room.

“I think it was Mr. Krane. Drake.”

I wait quietly for her to talk to me.

“He started with notes. Then he asked me to dinner, and I declined. But for some reason, he refuses to accept,” she explains. “Then, he sent roses to the school with a card. I threw those out, though. Someone put another bouquet in the middle of my living room and stood on it.”

I look at her. I can barely leash the brewing rage and darkness inside me. I know she can see it, but she keeps staring at me without fear. “When did he send the flowers?” I ask.

“Friday.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“At first, I didn’t want you involved with him. And later, I didn’t want to ruin dinner.”