Page 35 of Savage Seduction

Was it The Butcher? Had he upped his efforts to stalk me? Risked getting caught and revealing to the world he was actually still alive to get closer to me?

There is no response, not that I had expected one. I back up two steps and touch my door handle. The lock disengages, and I open the door, throwing the backpack inside to the passenger seat, all without taking my eyes off where I’d last seen my pursuer.

The scar, hidden under my shirt but never forgotten, tingles. I am sure then that it is The Butcher himself out there watching me. Without thinking, I place a hand on the very spot the madman had first stuck the knife, deep enough to kill, but not deep enough to end my suffering quickly. My knees feel weak, and my hands tremble. The palm of my right-hand itches and grows sweaty as I long to feel the hard, cool, textured handle of my service weapon.

Without another word, I break my stare and jump into the front seat of the car and lock the door behind me. I start the engine and peel away from my parking space with a squeal of the tires.

"Damn," I say. "Now what do I do?"

My brain races faster than my car as I drive aimlessly through the lamp-lit streets of Los Angeles. Home no longer feels safe. Now, work doesn’t either. If I contact London, would that put her in danger?

What else could I do and where else could I go? I think about driving to the police station and begging them for help, but I can’t bear the idea of seeing the pity on their faces.

No. Fuck him. I punch the steering wheel hard enough to split the skin on my middle knuckle. I am not going into hiding. I don’t have anywhere other than my normal life to go, so I’m not going to stop living. If The Butcher wants to come for me, I will just have to fight back. I need to be ready for anything, and I know it.

CHAPTER 16

Max

The next day, I sit in my car outside the restaurant, Delicate Sea, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under my eyes are unavoidable considering the last few days I’ve had. I wonder, would Ben even think I look halfway appealing in my present state?

I muss my hair and sigh. London would not be happy that I hadn’t stopped to get a quick trim before going on our first date. She always tells me, ‘if you don’t show you care, he won’t either’. Which reminds me that I need to reach out to her tonight. I tried giving her a call, but it had gone straight to voicemail. She hasn't gotten back to me about the mystery box and its gruesome contents and that isn’t like her.

The nerves are getting the best of me, and I start tugging at my shirt which seems way too tight around my muscular torso. It's been quite a while since I've last gone on a date—some stupid dating app London signed me up on. She even swiped right and left until she found the perfect match. The date had ended with me considering a restraining order. Never doing that again.

Better get inside before I chicken out, I think. I get out of thecar and walk toward the front door of Delicate Sea, stopping to inspect my reflection one last time in the glass door.When did my skin become so pale?Normally, I am the typical light-skinned Hispanic guy with smooth skin, dark eyes and hair. Now… it’s as if I’ve aged a bit, the dark circles under my eyes didn’t help either.

The restaurant is formal and requires a tie; not something I'm used to wearing. I smile at how my outfit has come together so nicely. The monochromatic look of my black tie on black fitted shirt and suit was London's brilliant idea the last time I went out. I straighten my tie and reach for the door.

The hostess beats me to it and opens it wide. “Welcome to The Delicate Sea.”

“Thank you,” I say as I pass her into the entryway.

The cute young woman hurries over to the computer. “I’m so sorry, sir, but we are full for the rest of the evening. Unless you made a reservation in advance?” Her expression is full of doubt, like she's already preparing to feign disappointment and send me on my way.

I read the clock on the wall. “I’m actually a few minutes late. My date is probably waiting for me inside.”

A huge smile crosses her face. “Oh, wonderful. What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Benjamin Cooper ,” I say, wondering if Ben would have used his first name or put it under Doctor.

She references the list of tables and taps the screen. “Yes, he’s already seated. Can I offer you anything while you wait to be escorted to the table? Your server will be here in a few moments, but if you’d like to start with a wine, I’d be happy to bring you a glass.”

“I’m okay to wait until I’ve been seated to order, but thank you.”

“Great. In the meantime, you are welcome to rest in theentry.” She motions to the plush leather furniture to the side of the front door.

“Thank you so much.” I turn and take a seat in the comfortable plush leather chair. I close my eyes for a moment and listen to the relaxing music playing; instrumental and soothing. After a few seconds, other ambient sounds begin to trickle into my consciousness—a bubbling water feature and the soft chirps of birds brought it all together for me. It was delightful.

“Mr. Salgado?” says a young gentleman wearing a black apron over formal attire, sans the jacket, as he approaches. “Please come with me. I’ll show you to your table.”

I stand and follow. The restaurant is filled to capacity, every table utilized, even the single seaters along the back wall. Servers quickly bustle from table to table but never appear hurried. We move deeper through the establishment, past a bar in the center of the room. Back-lit bottles of top-shelf liquor fill the glass shelves. Surrounding the bar itself are beautiful light panels depicting seventeenth-century Japanese scenery, replete with cherry blossoms, geishas, and samurais. The bartenders are dressed in fancy Japanese-inspired tuxedos. Even the patrons who occupy every padded stool surrounding the bar are in fine attire.

The place is great—splendid enough to almost allow me to forget my problems.

“Max,” Ben says as he stands at our approach.

“Hi, Ben.” I rush over and give him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

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