Page 62 of Hide and Seek
I move across the room, positioning myself beside the second body as I hastily grab the zipper and pull it down, desperate to reveal the face hidden beneath, and just as I thought, horror blasts through my veins, making me sick.
The second man I was dancing with stares back at me, his cold, lifeless body covered in the same vicious cuts, and I know without a doubt that somewhere hidden beneath his clothes is another foul message that I don’t have the strength to look for just yet.
“No. No, no, no,” I cry, the weight of their lives resting heavily on my shoulders. I didn’t use this man in the same way that I used the other, but apparently that doesn’t matter. He danced with me, so that must mean his life should be taken from him.
Big fat tears fall down my cheeks, and I drop to my knees, wondering how the fuck I got here. I knew my stalker was capable of this. Of course I did. I saw the body with my own eyes, but a part of me hoped that if I played his game and followed his rules that nobody else would get hurt. But I’m playing a game of checkers while he’s playing chess. There are rules I didn’t even know to look out for, and now two more men have lost their lives.
A thick lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe, and I realize how foolish I was to assume that Knight had anything to do with this. This isn’t the act of a highly respected SWAT officer at the top of his game. It’s the act of a cruel, callous man who’s sick in the head.
The thought of Knight has me scrambling to my feet, and I move across the morgue on autopilot, tears still welling in my eyes as I reach for my phone. I find his number and immediately put the phone to my ear, not even taking off my latex gloves first.
The call rings once before Knight’s deep tone comes through the line. “Oh, now you suddenly want to talk to me,” he rumbles, a slight hint of amusement in his tone. “Don’t act as though I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding me, Morticia. We still need to talk.”
I suck in a breath, the sound coming out as a whimper, and there’s no masking the fear in that little noise.
“What’s wrong?” he rushes out. I can hear his keys jingling in the background, and I know he’s already on his way to me.
“I need you to come to the morgue,” I say, turning around to take in the bodies. “You need to see them before he takes them away.”
“Sit tight, doll. I’ll be there soon.”
22
HARPER-RAYN
The second Knight walks through the door, my panic begins to ease. Then before I can even tell him what’s going on, he steps right into me, pulling me into his warm arms and holding me tight, his hand drawing soothing circles on my back.
“You’re okay now,” he murmurs, that deep tone calming me in a way he will never truly know. “Everything is okay now. You’re safe.”
I suck in a shaky breath, wishing I could stay right here in his arms for the rest of my life, despite knowing how upset he is with me right now. I was so wrong. Knight can’t be the stalker. There’s no way that a man who can offer me this type of safety and comfort could be the man responsible for the two bodies on my table.
“What’s going on?” he asks, slowly releasing me, his gaze locked and loaded on mine, waiting for any sign I’m about to break.
Taking a step back, I try to pull myself together, hating how weak all of this is making me feel. “Two bodies just came in,” I tell him, indicating toward the autopsy tables and watching his brows furrow, wondering where the hell this is going. “They’re dead because of me.”
He steps a little closer to the bodies, his gaze sweeping over them before coming back to mine. “You’re going to have to fill in the blanks, Morticia. How are they dead because of you?”
“Saturday night,” I start. “When Izzy and I were at the club, I was dancing with both of these men. I knew the stalker was there, and I used them to tease him. Their hands were all over me. This one,” I say, pointing out the body that’s mostly still in the body bag. “He went to the bar to get me another drink, but then just never came back, but I didn’t think anything of it. And this guy,” I say, adjusting my stare to the other body. “He was getting really handsy and wanted me to go home with him, but I wasn’t down. So just to get rid of him, I told him I’d meet him in the bathroom and he left, but he never came looking for me when I didn’t show up. Both of them just . . . ceased to exist.”
Knight looks back at the bodies, looking over them with a skilled gaze. “These . . . these are the guys you were dancing with?” he questions, uncertainty flashing in his eyes, and honestly, the bite in his tone is throwing me off. Is he jealous? No, that couldn’t be it. Knight doesn’t strike me as the jealous type. But there’s definitely something running through his mind. I just wish I knew him well enough to be able to decipher it.
I nod and he looks even more confused.
“And you said the stalker saw you with both of these men?”
“Yes. Both of them. It had to be the stalker right? He did this because of me.”
Knight glances at me, and the hint of pity in his eyes almost tears me to shreds, but I push it away, before hurrying forward to show him the carvings across their bodies, the burned palms,and the message left on the skin of the first victim. I still haven’t gotten around to searching for whatever foul message has been left on the second body, but part of me doesn’t want to. I’ve been reluctant to look further, and honestly, I’m starting to go with the theory of what I don’t know can’t hurt me. Ignorance sounds peaceful.
“Here, look,” I say, stepping right up to the first body, and waiting just a moment for Knight to join me. “See these markings on his arms? They’re identical to the ones left on the first victim that came in last week, and in my professional opinion, they were created using the same weapon.”
Knight leans in, looking over the vicious markings on the man’s arm as if trying to make sense of them.
“Do you see the letters?”
“Letters?” he questions, his gaze snapping back to mine, his brows furrowed with a deep confusion before shaking his head. “What letters?”
“In the carvings,” I say, pointing them out. “They’re hard to make out of the skin, but once you see it, there’s no denying they are there, plain as day. Down both arms. It readsPay the fine if you touch what’s mine.”
