Page 35 of Silent Stalker

James doesn't take my hand. "I haven't seen you around Evergreen Falls before."

"Recently moved here for work. Finance sector." I let my hand drop, maintaining eye contact. "Clara and I met at the coffee shop at the mall."

"That right?" He leans against my car door, getting too close for comfort. "And what brought you to our little town? Plenty of financial opportunities in the bigger cities."

The urge to snap his neck floods through me. Instead, I chuckle. "Sometimes smaller towns hold the most interesting opportunities."

"James!" Clara's voice cuts through the tension, approaching the car. "Are you interrogating my ride?"

I watch James straighten up, his jaw tightening. The territorial display amuses me. If only he knew what Clara and I had done last night, how she'd begged and writhed under my control.

"Just making conversation," James says, but his eyes tell a different story. “Are you finished with your observations?”

Clara nods. “Yes, I’ve gotten enough to work with for now. It’s late.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white as James hovers near Clara. The familiar rush of adrenaline courses through my veins, but this time it's different. Raw. Uncontrolled.

"Thanks for looking out for me." Clara touches James's arm. A casual gesture that makes my blood boil. "I'll see you tomorrow at the precinct?"

James's eyes flick to mine before returning to Clara. "Call me when you get home safe."

The protective tone in his voice grates against my nerves. I've studied hundreds of potential victims, categorized their sins, and justified each kill. But James? He's genuine, honest, and a good cop who actually cares about protecting people.

And I want to tear him apart.

Clara slides into my passenger seat, and James steps back. The weight of his stare burns into my skull as I pull away from the curb.

"Sorry about that." Clara fidgets with her seatbelt. "He can be a bit... overprotective."

My fingers flex around the wheel. Images flash through my mind of James's throat beneath my hands, the light fading from his eyes. Not for justice. Not for my grand design. Just because he dares to want what's mine.

"It's fine." The words taste like ash in my mouth.

This possessive rage is new. Messy. Amateur. I don't kill without purpose, without careful selection and planning. Yet here I am, fantasizing about eliminating a man whose only crime is caring about Clara.

I force myself to breathe. To focus. James Marsden doesn't fit my criteria. He's not corrupt or cruel. He doesn't deserve death.

But watching him watch Clara makes me want to break all my rules.

I force my breathing to steady, pushing thoughts of Detective Marsden from my mind. Clara's presence beside me centers my focus. The streetlights cast shadows across her face as we drive through downtown Evergreen Falls.

"You must be hungry after working." I keep my voice light and controlled. “Would you like to grab a late dinner?"

Clara's shoulders relax. "God, yes. I'm starving." She shifts in her seat, turning toward me. "There's this amazing twenty-four hour diner on Oak Street. They make these incredible milkshakes, and their burgers..." She closes her eyes and hums. "Best comfort food in town."

The simple pleasure in her expression stirs something in me—not the usual predatory thrill, but something deeper and more dangerous.

"Sounds perfect." I adjust our route, taking the next right. "Lead the way."

"It's just past the old movie theater." Her hand brushes my arm as she points. "You can't miss it—it's has vintage neon signs."

The casual touch sends electricity through my skin. I grip the wheel tighter, maintaining control. Always in control.

"I could use something sweet after today." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Their chocolate malt is to die for."

I smile at her choice of words. If she only knew the irony.

I guide Clara into the diner, my hand hovering at the small of her back. The neon lights glow pink across her skin as we slide into a worn leather booth. Her knee brushes mine under the table.

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