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I drop my hand so I can get some answers before he attacks me again. “What did you find?”
Mitch seems confused. “Huh?”
I can’t help but laugh. I know exactly what’s going through that filthy mind of his. He was imagining marking me again. “I asked what you found over the last few days. With the stalker?”
“Right.” His glazed eyes snap back into focus.
Hello gorgeous. Back with us from the land of lust?
“I went through all the notes, gifts, interviews—all of it—and sorted out what I believe to be from the actual stalker and what I think is from the second, less threatening person.”
“You were able to tell the difference?”
Mitch’s face lights up, obviously excited to talk about his work. “Yeah, it’s pretty easy if you know what to look for. What took me so long was the sheer amount of notes, plus the fact that most of them were thrown out. That meant I had to comb through all the interviews to find witness descriptions. Mostly from Ross.”
“Okay, so are we looking for two stalkers then?”
“No. One of them isn’t dangerous. At least, for now,” he clarifies. “Sometimes these guys can escalate their threats and we’d have to take him more seriously. But so far, in my opinion, the second person is all talk.”
“What did you find on the real stalker? He’s the one who left the dead animal in New York, right?” I swallow, nauseous from the memory.
“Yes. That one.” Mitch blushes deep red, fidgeting in his chair.
“What? What did you find?” Why is he suddenly embarrassed?
“Ummmm, after reviewing the content, the patterns, the way the notes and items became more explicit and angry…” Mitch hesitates, glancing up at me before dropping his gaze back to the table where he becomes fascinated with a small scratch on the surface.
“Just say it, Hale,” I snap, impatient and now a little worried about what he found.
“Many of the things I found lead me to believe that you may have crossed paths with this man before or have some kind of a tie to him.”
My heart skips a beat.
“What?” I whisper.
Mitch still doesn’t look at me. “I had to go back to when the notes first began and start my search there. Which includes any employees, friends, um…” he blushes an even deeper shade of red. “Doctors or patients you may have been in contact with.”
My stomach does a painful flip as my lungs punch out a heavy breath. I reach for my pocket, cursing when I realize I’m wearing sweatpants without pockets and left my stone upstairs.
He knows.
“I’m sorry, Gavin.” Mitch does in fact look sorry for intruding on my past, but that doesn’t help relieve the shame.
No one knows. Not Ross, not Adam, not Dax… only my mother, Ellie, and Hawke. And now Mitch. Mitch Hale knows that I tried to kill myself when I was seventeen and spent three months in a children’s psychiatric ward, released only because I turned eighteen and they couldn’t keep me against my will any longer.
I shoot to my feet, humiliation washing over me. Nausea and shame churn in my stomach, making me light headed.
“Gavin, it’s okay—”
I start backing away from the table. “I-I need…uh, I have to…”
Fuck it. Without explanation I turn on my heel and flee for my room, locking the door behind me. I rummage through my nightstand and pull out the smooth, cold rock, rolling it around in my fingers.
My eyes zero in on the bed, disheveled and covered in Mitch’s scent. I can’t stay here. It feels as if the walls are closing in on me, making it difficult to breathe.
Mitch knows that I’m a coward. That I’m weak and gave up. That I allowed my father to bully me into suicide because I couldn’t or wouldn’t stand up to him.
Big, strong, fearless Mitch Hale won’t ever look at me the same again. A wave of panic crashes over me, threatening to drag me under. My knees buckle and I have to grab the edge of the bed to keep from hitting the floor.
