Page 17 of Depraved

“This isn’t about money.” He leans forward slightly, menace rolling off him in waves. “This is about Ragnarök.”

Confusion muddles my mind. He’s talking about the Viking myth of the apocalypse. Is he making a reference to the fact that he’s threatening to blow up my new life?

“I don’t understand,” I plead.

He scowls. “You don’t have to understand. All that matters is I know exactly where to find you.”

He shakes his head, rueful. “I try not to harm women. This is your one chance to save yourself. If we meet again, I won’t be so nice.” He flicks his fingers in the direction of the exit. “Run, little lamb.”

He still has my phone. I can’t call Rand.

I don’t waste another second asking questions. The threatening stranger is giving me a chance to evade him. I won’t linger when I’m clearly in danger.

I snap my laptop closed and shove it in my bag. His low laugh follows me as I dart out of the café.

Once I’m on the street, I break into a run.

I have to find Rand. He’s the only person I can turn to for protection.

Even if I were willing to go to the police at this point, that stranger can show them evidence that Karolina Taylor is a killer. I won’t just be deported; I’ll be arrested.

My feet pound the pavement as I race to Rand’s house across town. I’m there in a matter of minutes. I haven’t been sprinting for long, but my brow is damp with sweat.

I slam my fist against the door. “Rand!”

He appears in seconds.

I throw myself into his arms, and the door snaps shut behind me. The lock slides into place.

“What happened?” he asks, voice rough with panic. “Are you hurt?”

I can’t stop shaking. His hands rove over my pebbled skin, attempting to melt the icy shards that score my veins. Cold terror is shredding me from the inside.

“I’m not hurt.” I force out the reassurance. “But there was a man…”

Rand’s arms flex around me in an iron cage. “Where is he?”

I shake my head. “He found me at Brownie Bakehouse. He took my phone. I don’t know if he’s still there.”

“Did he give his name?” His face is like thunder.

“No. But he knows my name. He knows I’m a killer. He wasn’t blackmailing me. He said it was about revenge. He must know…”

I choke on Brandon’s name. I’ve been trying to hide my deepest sin from Rand, but I have to tell him. Maybe he can help me figure out how to get rid of the threatening stranger if he understands why I’m being targeted.

“I didn’t only kill Carter,” I admit, stomach churning. “I shot Brandon. I murdered my first love. The man who threatened me said he found me because of Brandon. He knows what I did.”

Rand’s hands flex on my lower back, drawing me closer. “Why did you shoot him?”

My eyes burn. “Carter said they planned to…share me that night. I had to protect myself, but I didn’t mean to.”

The same useless, hollow excuse.

“And you believed Carter?” Rand’s voice is rough, but his face is carefully blank.

I can’t read him at all. Is he hiding his disgust over what I did?

“Brandon told Carter where to find me in the woods that night. He knew how I liked to be chased.” Even now, my heart aches at the betrayal.