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Marius Goltz isn’t the kind of guy who hesitates, yet he’s doing just that.
“Come on, let’s go to the lounge.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. Tell me what the matter is.”
Whatever it is, it must be bad if he’s in such a state about it.
He sighs, scratching the back of his head. In this moment, he almost seems like a normal guy—if normal guys could look like Greek gods reincarnated.
“I’m still trying to figure out your blackmail situation. Here’s what we know: someone started to stalkyou. You came across a Heritage party. They saw the video, and they used it to blackmail us. But Sarah, it starts with you. People don’t have a couple dozen cameras in someone’s room for no reason.”
A shiver travels up my spine, like it usually does when I think about those cameras and whoever’s behind it. Somehow, Marius thinks it’s not Brandon. But who else could it be? I try not to dwell on it too much. It’s definitely ruining the happy, tired, contented buzz I had going on before he brought it up.
“So?” I grumble irritably.
“So, whoever it is, they’ve been very clever, calculated, up until this point. Can you think of a way to make them act differently? Impulsively, so they could mess up. Be rash.”
I see his point, and I can’t say I like it. “You want to provoke them. Do something to upset them so they act out.”
We’re both fully dressed now, so Marius leads us out of the spa.
Like at the restaurant, he doesn’t stop anywhere to pay, or ask for a bill. I wonder if they’re going to charge him automatically, or if the food, the sauna, everything are all perks included in their membership. No one gets as much free shit as the rich.
“Yes,” he confirms, and my stomach roll.
Someone disturbed enough to put full-on surveillance on me…what would they do if they felt provoked, driven to it?
I don’t want to find out.
“And I want you to be safe, too,” Marius says, likely because I look like I’m ready to bolt.
My life is so fucked up right now, if I could just grab a plane ticket to the other side of the planet and start over, I would. But I can’t afford that kind of trip.
I have very few ties locking me down, and my dream was always leaving the state behind, going somewhere where they don’t have my file, somewhere no one knows me. Start over without the baggage. Then I got the scholarship. I still have that vague plan in mind, but it wouldn’t hurt to start over with a shiny new pre-med degree and enough cash for a little nest egg. My scholarship covers all my living expenses; I save up almost everything I earn at work.
I could disappear. But I’d lose this. I’d lose Rothford. And Vi, and Rhys, and Dez, and even Riley.
Not to mention Marius.
What am I saying? He’snotmine to lose. We’re not friends. We’re not anything. Just two people who worked out that our kinks match. We’re both fucked up in different ways, and somehow those ways seem to fit, his sickness calling to mine.
I remember what it felt like to be held under the water. Terrifying. Excruciatingly painful.
Exhilarating.
Powerful. This last one doesn’t quite make sense, and yet I felt just that after realizing that a single move on my part could end the nightmare.
Most of my nightmares never ended, however much I tried.
And I could call his one off with a slight twist of my fingers. It was positively magical to do it and see that he stopped immediately. Hell, he coddled me, checking on me.
I know better than to think it means anything.
He might say I’m his, but that’s because he’s a control freak and doesn’t like other people playing with his toys. He doesn’t really care. I’m not truly his. He’s certainly not mine.
“So how do I egg on a stalkerandstay safe?” Provoking someone crazy enough to stalk me sounds like the opposite of safe.
He hesitates. He needs to stop doing that because it scares me more than being held underwater.
