Page 98 of Be With Me (Adair Family 4)

“How … how did you find me?”

“Why do you have that knife? Put it down.”

“How did you find me?” I repeated, not, in fact, putting the knife down.

“A vapid girl on social media posted a video of you, and a friend sent it to me when he recognized you, Kia.” His expression darkened. “She gave you a different name, and you were kissing another man. Do you want to explain yourself?”

After all these years, all the paparazzi that had descended on Ardnoch and my cover had been blown by a nosy social influencer.

Reining in my rage, I gritted my teeth and told him, “I’m not Kia, Ezra. You killed Kia.”

“Stop saying that!” he bellowed.

I skittered back, hitting the wall. Arm shaking, I held the knife out as he prowled toward me. “Stay back!”

His gaze caught on my stitched-up arm. “Look, you’ve already injured yourself, so just put the knife down. I’m not here to hurt you, Kia.” He gestured toward the porch. “Didn’t you get my gift? Didn’t you see how much I think about you? I’ve kept everything. I’ve never forgotten you.”

Ezra had been volatile and violent all those years ago, but he’d lived in reality. Something had snapped in his mind. He was living in his delusions, truly believing, I realized, that I was Kia. That he’d never killed her.

That scared me even more than the thought of a violent Ezra.

I shifted from the wall, moving around the dining table to head toward the exit.

But he moved in the opposite direction to cut me off.

So I stopped at the head of the dining table as he halted at the opposite end, blocking my way out.

Impatience flexed in his jaw. “If you don’t come to me, Kia, I’ll make you sorry, my love.” Before I could respond, he rushed up the side of the table toward me.

I huffed out a petrified cry and ran toward the kitchen to round the island, but my head was yanked back as he grasped my ponytail. Roaring with outrage, I whirled and slashed the knife at him.

Ezra jumped back to avoid it, and I hunched over in a defensive stance, knife out.

“What did you think would happen here?” I tried again to keep him talking.

But he was done talking.

He lunged and I slashed again, forcing him back. But then faster than I could compute, he grabbed hold of my wrist and slammed it against the island. An awful pain loosened my grip on the knife.

In seconds, he had me pinned to the kitchen floor. “Play nice,” he murmured in my ear, and I could feel him hard against me. Nausea roiled in my stomach as memories flooded me. Terrible memories of discovering Kia’s naked body. The bruises around her neck from where he’d strangled her. But first, he’d raped her.

He’d raped my sister and then strangled her.

Years of terror and fury blinded me, and I struggled and cried out as he slammed my wrists into the floor and bellowed at me to calm down.

Calm down, I heard Kia’s voice again, and I shuddered to stillness at hearing it after so long. Where is the knife?

The knife.

“Good, good girl, Kia,” Ezra groaned and buried his lips against my neck as he ground his erection into me.

I swallowed back bile, tears slipping down my cheeks as I looked past him, craning to see the floor beyond us. My breath caught.

The knife was within reach.

“Mmm, you like that, Kia?” He misinterpreted the sound.

Distract him.

I forced out a moan as he undulated into me, and his breath hitched with excitement.

“I knew you missed me too.” He lifted his head, eyes bright with madness and desire. To my relief, he released my wrist closest to the knife in order to squeeze my breast. Forcing my revulsion down, I arched into him and let my arm fall by my side. Ezra was so busy fumbling excitedly with the tight waistband of my yoga pants that he didn’t feel me reaching for the knife.

Just as his fingers slipped into my underwear, I screamed like a raging banshee and used every ounce of my strength to shove the knife into his gut.

His face slackened with shock, and he rolled off me to wrap his hands around the blade’s handle.

Scrambling from under him, I raced toward the door and stumbled onto the porch just as Lachlan and his armed security poured out of two SUVs parked in my driveway.

My knees gave way with utter relief, and I hit the porch hard.

39

ARRAN

Helmsdale. Fucking Helmsdale.

I’d traveled north to see a blacksmith in Helmsdale. Months ago, I’d commissioned him to make the staircase and outside balcony railings for the house. And I’d stopped by before the end of the day to make sure everything was ready to go for the delivery at week’s end.

When Lachlan called to tell me Ery had hit the panic button in her lodge, I cursed my fucking plan.

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