Page 26 of Devil's Thirst

“I dance on Broadway,” I try to explain. “Lately, I’ve felt like someone’s been watching me.”

What if the stalker really was sent by The Society? What if they think you’re calling attention to them?

A new wave of nausea roils through my stomach.

Unaware of my panic, the officer continues. “Can you tell me what they look like?”

“No, it’s more of a feeling than anything.” A lie because I’m not sure I should have said anything. I don’t want this guy to think I’m crazy, but I don’t want to stir up trouble either.

“And you think the person watching you was here in your apartment?”

“I think so. I don’t know who else it’d be.” I sound like a paranoid lunatic, and I know they must be thinking the same when the two cops exchange a glance.

The older man, who has yet to say anything, finally speaks up. “Is there any chance the worry about this person watching you from the theater gave you a bad dream that felt real?”

I open my mouth to refute him, but nothing comes out.

It was real, wasn’t it? Wouldn’t I know the difference between reality and a dream?

I think about the conditioner and my crackers—the odd slips in my memory. Then I think back to the agonizing months when I had amnesia nearly five years ago. My brain had hiddenmy entire identity away from me, and I was helpless to access my own memories—emotions and thoughts and everything that makes me who I am—they were all gone. That experience taught me to never underestimate the power of the brain.

“I don’t think so, but I understand what you’re saying,” I finally concede.

Hell, maybe it’s best to lean into that theory, no matter what I think. Aside from questioning myself, I can’t help but wonder if the older cop’s suggestion that I was mistaken is actually a message. Could he be involved? Is he warning me to keep my mouth shut?

It’s official. I’m completely losing my mind.

The handsome cop places a kind hand on mine, sensing my uncertainty. “Hey, it’s much better to be safe than sorry. Don’t worry about any of that, and just tell me a little more about this feeling of being watched.”

I nod and then jump when three sharp knocks sound on my front door.

“Amelie?” Isaac’s voice reverberates through the door.

I want to drop my head on the table and wish it all away. It’s too much.

Isaac will insist on knowing what happened. I can’t lie to him with the cops in the room. Once he learns the stalker was here, he’ll be that much more persistent. I’ll never be able to put distance between us.

But there’s little to be done about it now.

I’ve tipped over that first domino. All I can do is wait and see how they fall.

CHAPTER 14

SANTE

I must have walked backand forth to my door at least a dozen times before finally deciding to go next door. Making an appearance with cops present could make a mess of everything and is 100 percent an emotional decision. I know why they’ve come. I don’t necessarilyneedto check on Amelie, except that I do. The urge to be in there with her while some asshole cop questions her is so overpowering that my muscles literally twitch from the strain of holding myself back.

That whole be-careful-what-you-ask-for bullshit is true. I’ve been concerned about her reluctance to call the cops when she’s in danger. I’m glad she did it, and if I wasn’t so fucking obsessed with her, a visit by some overweight donut pusher wouldn’t be an issue. But I’m too far gone to let her deal with this alone. I need to be there.

When the door finally opens, a uniformed officer stands on the other side. He’s young but confident, immediately engaging me in a stare down. The manufactured bravado most cops flaunt usually flickers with insecurity when they face me, but this guy is steady and cool. His brand of unruffled self-control is the sort that can cause real problems.

“Can I help you?” he finally asks.

“I’m Amelie’s neighbor. I heard you guys knocking and wanted to make sure she was okay.”

The guy has the balls to narrow his eyes. Suspicion. If only he knew how right his instincts are.

“It’s fine, you can let him in,” Amelie calls from somewhere behind him.

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