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Ugh!
I quickly raced through his clothing first, looking for anything that resembled the Vigilante’s black outfit, mask, and combat boots.
But there was nothing.
The Vigilante wouldn’t be stupid enough to keep his suit in his own closet, though. Still, I rifled through the drawers, into the nooks behind his clothes, searching for a quick-change bag of some kind.
But there was nothing.
And the more I looked, the more I realized none of these clothes would even fit the Vigilante; he was bigger than Hunter. By three inches and twenty pounds, minimum.
The shoes were all the wrong size, too—far too small by three or four sizes, in fact. But I already knew all of this, so why had I questioned it?
Even if he was the right size, he was a prosecutor working all day on the other end of town. He wouldn’t have the time to play Vigilante and hold a woman hostage. Not to mention, he’d have no reason to come check on me in the first place.
I lived with him right now, so Hunter could see firsthand how I was doing. There was also no need to go through the trouble of warning me about Franco the way he did.
And you know what? There was a legitimate reason I was struggling to trust Hunter, and it had nothing to do with the Vigilante. It had to do with my trust issues in general, worried he’d let me down, just like everyone else had done in the past.
That’s what this was really about, wasn’t it? This was me panicking, because up until now, I hadn’t let myself get this close to anyone—this trusting of anyone—not even Sean. I was letting Hunter all the way into my heart, and clearly, my subconscious was so terrified that this would all crumble around me that my mind was coming up with possible scenarios of how it could come crashing down.
I was falling in love with him, I realized.
That’s why I felt so scared.
That’s why I was acting irrationally.
Hunter wasnotthe Vigilante.
I sighed, relieved, but also frustrated with this itch I needed scratched. That left two suspects—both of which were the right height and weight and both had motives. Rodney was wrongfully imprisoned and burned by the justice system. Sean, whose girlfriend had been murdered, was a true crime podcaster who focused on horrific crimes where no one was ever prosecuted. He’d have the right equipment and detective skills to find the types of victims the Vigilante targeted.
But it couldn’t be Sean. I couldn’t handle it if it were him—I cared about Sean and trusted him.
No matter who it was, though, I had a defining choice to make.
Despite the Vigilante’s desire to keep me safe, I couldn’t let a personal relationship cloud rational judgment. I wasn’t on board with allowing a serial killer to continue his reign of carnage, even in the name of justice. I couldn’t let his spell blind me to his crimes.
If I believed in justice, there was only one thing to do.
Before I could chicken out or allow any doubts to enter my mind as to how to proceed, I pulled out my phone and drafted an email.
Mayor Kepler,
I’d like to meet with you in person regarding the Windy City Vigilante. I am starting to suspect he might be someone I know, and I’d like to discuss the appropriate steps to vet this. And how to protect the integrity of your search if I’m correct.
Sincerely,
Luna Payne
I pushed Send, shivering at the Pandora’s box I just opened, but I couldn’t sit here and panic for long. I was snooping, and I didn’t want to get caught.
I shut off the lights in Hunter’s closet, and exited his bedroom…
And bounced off his hard, muscular chest.
Hunter righted me by holding my upper arms, and then his suspicious eyes glanced past my shoulder.
“Were you in my room?”
