Page 207 of Heart So Hollow

I narrow my eyes, “What are you getting at?”

“If he thinks I took your underwear,” he traces the arms of his chair with his finger, “he must think I did everything else, too.”

I blink, studying Colson, “Why did you do everything else?”

“He didn’t tell you?” he sounds slightly surprised.

“Why don’t you tell me,” I say with irritation, swiveling in my chair and bending down to pull my tote out from under my desk.

I dig into the interior pocket and produce the worn, folded up paper I’ve been carrying around since Bowen tossed it across the counter at me.

“I’m not the first person you’ve done this to,” I unfold the paper and hold it out in front of him, “Who were you stalking, Colson?”

Colson stares at the photo of himself, not moving a muscle.

Finally, he looks up at me, “Where’d you get this?”

“Bowen,” I lower my arm, letting the paper crinkle in my fist, “I know you’ve been arrested for stalking. And I know it was in Canaan. Why were you there?”

Colson’s eyes bore into me, a darkness slowly seeping across his face like a cloud moving over the sun. He remains motionless, like a marble statue. And, finally, after a minute, a malicious smile tugs at his lips.

“Oh, Bo…” he drags his name out in a melodic whisper and slowly turns his gaze to the photo frames sitting on the filing cabinet behind me.

My breath catches when he returns his attention to me, glaring across the desk with those eyes—the same eyes I saw four years ago.

Black…dead…

“Has he been telling my secrets?” Colson murmurs with a tilt of his head.

“Please,” I plead, “please, just tell me. Do you know Bowen?”

“Instead of asking what I know about Bowen, maybe you should ask Bowen what he knows about me. Because it’s a lot more than one arrest and no conviction.”

“You tell me,” I rise from my chair and drop his mugshot onto my desk, “tell me why you’re doing all this. Why are you painting the name of Bowen’s ex on the wall and putting knives through pictures?”

Colson’s eyes meander out the window as if he’s lost in thought, “Bowen’s the kind of guy who’s too pompous for security cameras, isn’t he?” All I can do is stare back at him in confusion until he continues. “He’d rather shoot anyone who comes onto his property without permission. Fortunately for me, to shoot someone, you have to be able to see them,” he emphasizes the last two words with pure irreverence.

“Is that where you hang out now—in the shadows outside my house?” I ask, “What’s your end game? I’d really like to know because a whole hell of a lot of good you’re doing me right now!”

Colson rises and closes the space between us, towering over me, “Seems I do you a lot of good, Brett. I take care of you all day—listening to you, feeding you, protecting you, loving you…” he pauses, letting his words sink in, “I give you everything you want. And that’s why you let me lay you out on this desk and shatter you into a million pieces, rules and regulations be damned.” He turns his head and leans into my ear, “Because I’m the only one you break the rules for. You’re a good girl, a loyal girl, but right now, you’re trying to decide whether or not you have the audacity to come back home where you belong.”

Colson’s standing so close, I have to tilt my head back to look at him, “You have a lot of nerve saying you love me when you’re doing everything you can to wreck my life.”

A smile spreads across his face, “You know I love you more than I love myself or anyone else in this world. You don’t understand it now, but later, you’ll thank me for putting you through all this. And, years from now, you won’t be able to imagine a time when we were apart.”

“My choices are not yours, Colson,” I seethe, “you don’t get to pop in whenever you want, fuck shit up, and then dip out for another few days. You don’t know what I want.”

“Of course, I do,” he murmurs coolly, “I know you’ve been chasing that high I give you. You might think you’ve found it somewhere else,” he cracks a smile, “but it falls just short, doesn’t it? You have his entire body at your disposal and you still prefer to fuck my knife until you come all over the handle like a filthy…little…cum…slut.”

My shoulder jerks forward and my hand flies to his face. But he catches my wrist before it can make impact. I try to tear it away from his grasp, but he only squeezes it tighter, the corner of his mouth twisting into a half-smile. A moment later, he turns and kisses the top of my hand, still clutched in his fist.

“Fuck you, Colson!” I spit with all the venom I can muster.

“Honeybee,” he drawls, his deep voice grinding into my chest, “I’m just waiting for you to say the word. Then we can stop pretending this wasn’t the inevitable outcome. And, when you do, I’ll be the one on my knees for you.” He tosses my hand to the side and turns to leave, “Meantime,” he taps my doorframe just like every other time he leaves my office, “maybe Bo will tell you some more stories.”

My breath catches for a moment, and then I do the most childish thing I can think of. I grab the paper bag off my desk and hurl it at Colson’s back. But he’s already gone and it hits my door, falling with a crunch onto the charcoal grey Berber carpet. I collapse onto the edge of my filing cabinet in defeat, listening to him chuckle as his footsteps fade away down the corridor.

I don’t leave my impromptu lunch laying on the floor. As much as I want to smack Colson, I’m not above eating my favorite sandwich, and I don’t think he did anything to it—poison or otherwise. I shut my door and tear open the bag of kettle chips as I stroll around the desk to the window. No sooner do I pop one in my mouth when I catch Colson’s familiar figure appear as he emerges from the building into the parking lot.

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