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But no… He was fucking with me, right? Murderers didn’t walk around announcing their crimes to people. Even so, the look his eyes made me believe him. Or maybe his eyes were so eerie, that it was making his lie believable.
“You expect me to buy that?” My mouth twisted in disbelief I wished I could really feel.
He didn’t jump to assure me he was telling the truth. He didn’t care if I believed him.
“Who did you kill?”
“You don’t need that information.”
“How many people?”
“Does it matter? How many murders does it take to prove a man is evil?”
“How many?”
He made a dismissive sound. “The correct number—for now.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” His laugh was a wild sound almost completely devoured by the rush of the wind weaving through the trees.
He was closer now—too close.
“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep Tarryn. Would you say the same?”
Oh god.
I tripped off of the paved path, not realizing I was moving backward until I’d found gravel beneath my feet. Grass was next. Twigs. I whirled and fled into the woods, not sure what else to do.
He knew where I lived, where I worked.
He knew where my wife lived.
Was this some ridiculous mindfuck?
Wait.
Why would he tell me he was a murderer if he actually was one? It made no sense. It had to be another of his weird games.
Right?
Calling his bluff while we were alone in the dark felt like a bad idea.
I crashed through the underbrush, not sure where I was going, not able to hear him following me—but then, I was making so much noise I probably wouldn’t have heard an angry bull charge. I ran headlong, dodging through the trees, wading through thickets, ankles and face scratched by unforgiving twigs and tree limbs. My breath heaved, and I regretted not taking up running as cardio.
If he caught me out here…
Before, I’d been running from my own lust…but now, if he caught me, would he kill me? It seemed ridiculous to believe him, but it would also be stupid for me not to take him at his word.
What was it Tarryn always said? Believe people when they tell you who they are. Usually, she meant it in a less literal sense, but in this case, there was no harm in believing he was capable of murder. It made my leeriness of him make sense.
Or maybe he was hoping to intimidate me so he could steal my wife.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and fear skittered through my veins. If he murdered me in this park, it might take days before someone stumbled across my body. Tarryn might never even find out what happened—at least not who had killed me. The police might chalk it up to a mugging.
I wasn’t alone. I could feel him in the woods, watching.
Was that his breathing or was it the wind?
