Page 81 of Hell or High Water

“You look like you don’t want me to read them,” he said, studying me.

I shrugged and sat down. “There are just some that are…well, uncomfortable.”

His eyes narrowed. “How? Other than the fact that he’s been watching you.”

I twisted my hands in my lap, not wanting to talk about it. “There are detailed things about what he wants to do to me.”

There was a glint of something in his eyes that I didn’t understand, but it made me nervous.

“Are they in order?” he asked.

I nodded.

He opened the first one, and I clasped my hands tightly in my lap as my stomach knotted up. I’d hoped I’d never have to show these to anyone. Sitting here while Than read them was going to be hard. He was the last person I’d ever want to read them.

Thirty-Seven

Than

Montana,

Do you have any idea how your eyes can mark a man’s soul? Change the course of his life? The plans he has for his future? With one glance, you rewrote my story. The dimples when you smiled found a soul I hadn’t known I had and awakened it. If I could hold you while you grieved, I would. One day, I will. But for now, I’ll stand back and watch.

I couldn’t shred this fucker’s words. We might need these letters. But the bitter taste in my mouth as I folded it back and moved to the next one was coupled with an odd clawing in my chest. Not looking at her, I opened the next one.

Montana,

You laughed today. It had been weeks since I heard that sound. I wasn’t close enough to know what it was that you laughed at, but I soaked it in. Until I saw your face completely, and your eyes told a different story. I can see your pain, and I want to soothe it away. And one day, I will. My touch will be something you crave, and I’ll give you whatever you need.

My fist began to wad the letter, and I had to breathe through my nose and focus on calming down. The clawing was now a burning. My fist closed, and the sound of it crumpling in my hand did little to ease me. I let it fall to the ground, and with my teeth grinding, I opened the next one.

Montana,

You’re the first thing I think about when I open my eyes and the last when I close them. You’re in my dreams at night and always in my head during the day. Until I find you and watch you, I’m unsteady. Lost. Aching.

Last night, you left your curtains open in your bedroom. As much as I enjoyed it, please don’t do it again. I’d have to kill anyone else who saw you like that. You were a vision. Your full, perfect, bare breasts and tiny waist with the flare of your hips, wearing only the pink panties that covered little, had my cock throbbing so badly that I had to stroke it while I watched you. Since the moment I first saw you, it’s only been you in my head when I come.

I didn’t read the rest of it before it, too, became a wadded-up ball, squeezed tightly in my fist as I seethed. He’d masturbated while watching her in her window. The sick fucker.

“That’s the one I didn’t want you to read.” Her voice was a raspy whisper.

I couldn’t look at her. Not yet. I was still struggling with remaining calm. There was some territorial beast waking inside me that I didn’t know what to do with.

“Are there more like that?” I asked.

There was a pause, then, “Yes.”

I inhaled sharply through my nose. There was a good chance I was going to break shit or put my fist through a wall. Linc had wanted me to read the letters and see if there was any connection to New Orleans or clues. But so far, all they were doing was making me morph into a crazed animal who wanted to rip off the writer’s head, then throw Montana down and slam my cock into her. Claiming her. Which was not fucking okay. She wasn’t mine, and I didn’t want to claim a female. I wanted variety. Didn’t I?

I wasn’t sure I could read the others.

“Do any talk about a different city or place?”

“No. Just me. Where he saw me that day or how he wanted to do things.”

Yeah, fuck no. I wasn’t reading more of that shit. I turned my head to look at her. Linc wanted to know some other things, but I wasn’t sure I should ask yet.

“What about ex-boyfriends? Any connections to one of them? Someone related to them?”

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