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“What I said in the park… You must remember.”
I thought back to our conversation that night, such as it was. The only thing that sprang to mind was when he’d told me he was a murderer. I opened my mouth to ask him outright if that’s what he meant. It couldn’t be true, could it? I’d thought for sure it was a mindfuck—some absurd Loïc joke.
What if that was what he was referring to?
I stared at the ceiling. It was exactly what he was talking about. A chill ran the length of my spine and made my fingers tingle.
No.
He was so full of shit. Somebody who was a murderer wouldn’t go around casually telling people.
“I did the world a favor.”
Fine. He wanted to keep going with this farce? I could play along. I sure as hell wasn’t going to give him the reaction he was fishing for. “I’m sure a lot of people who do that sort of thing believe that.”
There was a long silent pause.
A floorboard creaked.
I gasped and sat up, only to find him standing at the foot of my bed.
I shrieked. There was no other way to describe the sound that came out of me. If I’d needed to pee, I would have pissed myself.
He wasn’t smiling. “I was in your basement.”
Fucking,fuckingcocksucker.
He braced his hands against the foot of my mattress and swayed slightly. Tonight, he was dressed in jeans and a sheer, button-down shirt that showed off his enviable body. His long hair was mussed, and he wore eyeliner that made him look sinful. His lips…
He took a swig from the flask he was holding. Had he come here straight from a club? He looked damned hot.
I’d frozen where I was, sitting up in bed, the sheet draped over my hips, all too aware of my nakedness. My heart was beating so hard it felt like it would squeeze out through my ribs. I pressed my hand over the rapidly beating organ, as though it had brakes on the outside.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house, Leduc?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t plan on letting you know I was here, but this isn’t the kind of conversation we should be having over the phone. Who knows who could be listening?”
I looked down at my phone and realized he’d hung up. There was a notification from Tarryn—a meme, it looked like.
“You’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not.”
It seemed a lot less like a joke with him standing a few feet from me.
His eyes seemed to almost reflect light, like an animal in the dark, ready to rip out my throat.
I’d set the security alarm when I got home. I’d locked the door, too. As for the windows—I rarely opened them and always made sure to secure them when I closed them again. How the hell had he gotten in?
“If you hate me, why confess this to me?”
“You should know who you’re dealing with.”
“So, this is a threat?”
He made a moue of displeasure. “No. I thought you deserved to know what kind of man you’ve brought into Tarryn’s life.”
A bizarre man, that was for damned sure.
