Page 65 of Death Raiser

“Why did you go after Odette?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “Odette?”

“Amelia’s sister.”

He snapped his fingers. “That’s right. God, she was so annoying. She kept coming back to the café hoping to retrace her sister’s steps because Amelia’s last post on social media was a picture of the cappuccino I made her. She used the hashtag blessed.” Steve snorted like he found the whole thing funny.

I didn’t.

My heart ached for that girl, for that young woman who was enjoying her life and celebrating the little things in life, only to have that beautiful simplicity ripped away from her and have her last moments filled with Steve’s company and undoubtedly sheer terror.

“So Odette came to your coffee shop looking for answers and you decided to hire someone to kill her?” Why would a killer hire another killer? “Why not take care of her yourself?”

Steve narrowed his gaze. “I didn’t have time to deal with her—not when I had plans for you. I would’ve just left her alone, but she liked to think of herself as an amateur detective. She still hoped to find her sister and started poking around where she shouldn’t. The guy I hired to kill her might’ve been caught but even if he talked, he doesn’t know anything. So if you’re hoping that cop boyfriend of yours will somehow figure out where we are and save you, you’re going to be disappointed.”

“The assassin had Grant’s number.” A thought slammed into my head, making me wince. “Is he in on this, too?”

“Grant?” Steve smirked. “My business partner is too busy snorting lines of coke and trying to use his position as a club owner to rail young, impressionable women to realize what I’ve been up to. He doesn’t know about this place either.”

“Business partner?”

Steve nodded. “I’m a silent partner at Spiral. I don’t go there often, but when I saw you in my coffee shop with that cop, and then later make an appearance with those vampires, I couldn’t help myself. I snuck into the security room. Almost got busted by a detective, too.” Steve licked his lips and smiled. “It was such a rush. Almost as much of a rush as grabbing you. And not a moment too soon, apparently. If I waited too long, your stalker might’ve beaten me to it.”

“My stalker?”

“The person leaving the roses.”

“So you know who it is?”

“Not at all, nor do I give a fuck.” He reached into the truck and pulled out a rifle. I didn’t know much about guns, especially rifles, but it looked like the kind my brother used in his online games to snipe opponents from a distance.

Steve smiled at the rifle and held it up for me to get a better look. “It’s a 0.308 Sako 85 Finnlight.”

I pursed my lips, hoping my disinterest in his murder weapon of choice would show.

“It won awards because it’s reliable and accurate while being lightweight. Bolt action. Mild recoil, proven killing power, and I can hike with it for days. This is a superb hunting rifle.”

The memories of the women I’d recently raised flowed through my thoughts. Flashbacks to how they kept trying to run away. Steve had cut out their tongues, but they had been trying to tell me what happened this whole time, and now I was finding out the truth the hard way.

The sick bastard intended to hunt me like a fucking deer.

Ice flowed through my veins and my stomach twisted some more. “Why do you do it?”

He cocked his head.

“Hunt the women. Do you get off on it? Did you not have enough power growing up? Did they reject you? Mommy issues?”

He flinched at the last one.

Bingo.

He didn’t hit me again, though. Instead, he slung the rifle over his shoulder using the strap and pulled the knife from his pocket again. Without a word, he roughly spun me around and cut through the rope chafing my wrists. It fell to the ground and my shoulders screamed from the release and instant increase in blood flow.

Before I could stretch or react, his boot connected with the small of my back and pushed, sending me sprawling forward to the ground. My knees hit the dirt first. Pain shot up my legs. I flung my hands out to break my fall. The rocky ground scraped and dug into my palms, slicing the skin open. My head snapped forward, smacking the dirt before rebounding. My mind spun.

“It’s time to run,” Steve taunted.

I pushed off the ground and stumbled to my feet. My vision wavered. I turned to Steve and found myself looking down the barrel of his favourite hunting rifle.

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