AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fuck you.”
“Well, I thought that’s where we were headed.”
He doesn’t have anything to say to that, so when he keeps walking, I pull over as far into the grass as I can and get out.
“We’ve dragged this out long enough,” I tell him. “I know who you are.”
His steps come to a halt and he spins around. “And who is that?”
“It’s definitely not Ezra Hamilton, as you’d have everybody in Soledad Square believe.”
He doesn’t say anything, unwilling to confess. Which I get. It’s what we’ve been doing since we met. We both know more about each other than we’d like to believe, but until now, we’ve only danced around that fact.
“Why did they call you Heart Stopper?”
He’s silent, his eyes focused on me as his jaw ticks. I realize I’m probably standing too close to be lobbing such accusations, but I’m not about to show him any fear now. As he stands, illuminated by my headlights, the trees tall and looming behind him, I feel like I’m in a horror movie. His fists are balled at his sides, and then he takes a step toward me.
I almost move backward, but stand my ground. When he’s toe to toe with me, he brings his arm up, pushing up the sleeve to reveal a black bracelet. With a squeeze to the side of the rectangular metal clasp, the bracelet comes apart, and I realize it’s not just a bracelet. It’s a knife. The blade is just over an inch, but it’s sharp, and in the right spot it can get the job done.
Ezra drags the tip of the blade down my chest, stopping at my heart. “Because I always pierce the heart. His other hand comes up, his fingers pressing against my ribs. “One, two, three, four.” He counts them quietly, watching my face. “Right here,” he says, pressing hard between two of my ribs. “You gotta angle it right and have a long enough blade that’s also thin enough to fit between the ribs. But with some practice, you can penetrate the left ventricle. Heart Stopper is both catchy and accurate, though any murderer stops the heart.
“Fortunately for you, this blade I have now is way too small to reach your heart.” He pulls it away from my ribs and brings it closer to my neck. “But I’m finding a new thrill in this right here,” he says, pushing it flat against my carotid artery. “Feeling the blood pump under my hand, aware that one cut would split the skin and that beautiful crimson liquid would pour out. The warmth of it would coat my fingers and run down my wrist in rivulets.” He inhales deeply, the tip of the blade pricking my neck. “Knowing I could end your life if I wanted to.”
“But you don’t want to,” I say softly.
He looks down at me, only two inches taller, but now that I know, and now that he’s confessed, his whole demeanor has changed. He seems larger than he is. Harder. Colder. His face is chiseled, sharp lines at his jaw and cheekbones. He’s almost transformed into a different person, and now as he peers down at me, fear prickles along my arms for the first time.
His deep-set brown eyes narrow under his brows, his nearly proportionate lips coming together as he clenches his jaw. It feels like he stares at me for hours, the silence growing around us.
“How do you know who I am?”
“Because I’m a hunter.”
“I’d say stalker.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“And you hunt…who? Killers? Not the smartest thing to do.”
“No, not killers. Not until you, anyway.”
He rubs a thumb across his bottom lip, glancing to the side before aiming his penetrating gaze at me again. “I’m gonna need more information, because if you know who I am, then you’re a threat, and I have a certain way of handling threats.”
I step back. “I’m not going to say anything. Let’s go talk.”
“At your house,” he says, giving me a look that says there isn’t another option.
* * *
“Explain,”he says as soon as his ass hits my couch.
“Uh, okay.” I sit down in the armchair to his left, but his eyes are bouncing around the room, looking for anything he can.
This place holds no personal photos. He won’t find pictures of family or childhood friends. He won’t find anything that tells him anything about me. It’s a modest place. I got it for a really good price because it was in foreclosure. It came with issues, but nothing major. It’s a converted barn house surrounded by land and trees.
“I saw you well before you ever spotted me. It was months ago, shortly after I got to town. Something about you drew me in. I watched you. Followed you. Asked people about you. Nobody knew much, and something about that was weird, especially in a town like this, so I did some digging.”
“What does that mean? Digging?”
