Page 69 of Fractured Fear

“But he had confidence. There was no hesitation. I think he’s done this before,” I argue.

“Maybe. Or are you using this situation to fit your narrative?” Rio tosses back.

I clench my jaw. “I’m not. I’m analyzing the facts. She fits the killer’s preferred victim profile, her attacker has done this before, and he sent her purple hyacinths.”

“We don’t know for sure who the flowers came from,” Zane says and stops typing. “I got him. Anthony Cole. Age thirty-four, six foot two, hundred seventy-four pounds, born in Austin, Texas. His parents were old money. They died right after his eighteenth birthday, and he inherited everything. After that, he attended UT and graduated with a degree in accounting, and later a masters in finance and data analytics. He finished all his schooling by age twenty-four.”

“So he’s smart. Good for him,” I spit sarcastically.

“He currently resides in Katy, Texas. Looks like he bought that home eight years ago and he has a summer home in LA,” a few more keystrokes. “He’s big. Not huge. Could be strong enough to carry Spencer.” Zane turns his screen so Rio and I can see him.

“He’s an okay looking guy I guess. I’m hotter though,” Rio criticizes.

“This isn’t a dick measuring contest,” I bark. I scrutinize the photo and commit it to memory. “He’s good looking and he’s probably charismatic. He has to be to have landed someone like Spencer.”

“You got something else you want to share with the class?” Rio asks with a raised brow.

“No.”

“Do you find the sexy artist hot?” Rio pushes.

“That’s not what I said.” I bare my teeth at him.

“You’re not denying it either,” Zane chimes in.

Changing the subject I say, “We’ve been here long enough. Let’s go.”

Instead of agreeing, they exit the car. Rio stretches his arms above his head. “No thanks. Time for some B&E.”

I somehow get out of the backseat and a deep furrow forms between my brows. Rio smirks, and the fucking lightbulb goes off in my head. “Please tell me you haven’t been breaking into her apartment every night,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose.

I will never admit it out loud, but I’d be doing the same thing for the woman if I was just as infatuated. I’ve never had a serious girlfriend, only fuck buddies and I use that term loosely.

“We haven’t been breaking into her apartment every night.”

I’m done with their fucking antics. “Z?”

Rio cuts Zane off before he can start. “Who do you think I caught with the creeper peepers in the first place?”

I level a glare at Zane, but he looks unrelenting with his arms folded and his own glare speared my way.

“She has nightmares, Ash,” Zane explains as if that’s a good enough reason to be camped outside his little crush’s home.

“Whoop dee doo. Who doesn’t? That doesn’t make her special.”

Zane’s scowl turns lethal. “Fuck you, man. If you don’t like it then go home. Call the cops. I don’t give a fuck, but you’re not stopping me from going up there and comforting her when the screaming starts.”

I refuse to let the shock of the moment show on my face. Zane never willingly touches anyone. We’ve hugged maybe five times since I’ve known him. The only exception to his rule is Rio. They’ve been that way since I met them, but no one else.

“Fuck, fine. I’m in.”

“You weren’t invited,gruñón.”

“I’m still coming.”

“Good luck fitting in her bed,” Rio says with a wink.

Her bed? Fuck. I’d probably do that too.

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