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My blood runs cold as the horrifying truth hits me like a bolt of lightning. How else would he have gotten these pearls if he wasn’t the one who took them? Hayden, the man who claims to want me safe, is in fact the stalker who terrorized me for months. Revulsion courses through me as I picture him stealing the necklace, breaking it, and then leaving a single pearl for me to find.
Tears blur my vision and sobs wrack my body as I sink to the floor, clutching the pieces of jewelry. The man I loved, who I thought cared about me, violated my trust. And for what? To manipulate me into being with him? This entire charade was unnecessary.
I would’ve been with Hayden because I’m already in love with him.
My heart pumps harder with every beat until I worry it’ll explode inside my chest. Given the pain zipping through my body, I almost wish it would. If only to stop the agony. I gave Hayden everything and he made me question my sanity while taking away my sense of security.
I knew he was too good to be true.
I just wish I understood why he did all of this when we could’ve had an honest relationship; why he chose obsession over love.
Taking a deep breath, I roughly wipe my eyes. The sadness churning within me hardens into icy resolve, a cold wall that’s impenetrable, similar to the one I created when my father died. Except this one’s more fortified. When Hayden gets home and walks through that door, the fantasy of him ends. And the real man—the stalker—has much to answer for.
I invited a genuine monster into my life. The only thing left to do is face him and hope I make it out with my sanity intact.
Because my heart is definitely a goner.
Chapter42
Hayden
I slammy fist on the office desk with a curse.
Calista is my only priority yet I’m no closer to finding the person responsible for her assault. Even with access to government databases, I can’t find anything that’ll point me in the direction of a guilty party.
At the idea of not enacting justice on her behalf, a growl rushes between my clenched teeth. I’ve already failed my mother on that front. I can’t do the same with Calista. It could send me over the edge and into the pool of insanity churning in the recesses of my psyche.
I retrieve the pill that caused my mother’s overdose from the drawer and set it before me. The starburst symbol in the middle is worn from the number of times I’ve touched it. For reasons I can’t explain, staring at it helps me center my thoughts.
If only it wasn’t a tangible reminder of my shortcomings: First to protect my mother, then to avenge her.
I pick up the pill and roll it between my fingers, the action soothing to the tumultuous energy coursing through me. The symbol and composition were the only clues I had to go on after my mother’s death, but no amount of research provided answers as to where it came from. The police wrote it off as another illicit street drug. I didn’t give up then, and I won’t now.
It’s not an option. Not when Calista is counting on me. Maybe I’m the one who needs this absolution, this chance at redemption as much as she needs the closure.
Setting down the pill, I start a new search. The cursor blinks accusingly as I hover over the keyboard. There has to be something I’m missing, a small detail that’ll provide a breakthrough on this case. With that in mind, I start at the beginning, recalling my conversation with Calista.
My skin grows heated as my anger rises. The mere thought of her assault has me sweeping my arm over the desk’s surface, tossing and scattering every scrap of paper to the floor. With the area bare, I retrieve a legal pad from the drawer and write down everything.
Where: Hopeful Hearts Children’s Shelter
When: June 24th
Who: Calista Green
What: Victim was present at the location around 4pm, but the timestamp of the photo showcasing her injuries was 8:30pm. By that time, the bruises were plain to see on her ivory skin and she was conscious.
I squeeze the pen until my fist shakes. What possibly happened in those unaccounted for hours has my stomach heaving. Calista was hesitant to talk about that night and there are times I wish I hadn’t pushed her, but I needed to know everything. And now that I do, blood will flow.
The law has limits. I don’t.
Not when it comes to protecting the woman I…
My breathing halts. I’m not sure how to finish that thought. The only thing I know for certain is Calista’s mine. Forever.
I return my gaze to the legal pad, taking in the sharp lines and bold strokes of my writing. It taunts me, provokes me. There’s still another question to be written, the one that haunts me: Why would someone hurt Calista?
Motive: An indirect attack on her father? Lust? Mental instability? Opportunity?
