Page 111 of Voyeur

You winked? You’re an idiot.

I grip the steering wheel as I shake my head, a wicked grin on my face before pushing the start button and letting the engine hum to life.

The world tumbles on its head when the cold barrel of a gun presses into my temple. My smile fades as my eyes lift to the rear-view mirror.

“Awe, and here I thought that smile was for me. Guess not, huh?” the man says, and I narrow my gaze on him.

I’ve seen him before, but I can’t place him with so much going through my head.

I open my mouth to ask who the fuck he is and what he wants, but he presses the gun harder into my skull. “Drive.”

He rattles off an address that I put into my navigation, and then I’m driving on autopilot through the streets of Seattle. It’s as if I’ve never driven them before, as if I’m seeing them like this for the first time. And I guess I am.

My life isn’t flashing before my eyes. But close enough.

“You killed Conner,” I say abruptly, and the gun twists against my head.

“Didn’t you hear? Conner was bad into drugs. Sad, really. When such talent gets washed down the drain like that. Such a waste.”

I swallow as we pull into a warehouse. One that looks just like where Carina and Gage took me.

The man gets out of the back seat, opening my door and keeping his gun trained on me as he motions for me to get out.

Looking at him full-on, I realize I do know him. “You’re her neighbor. What the hell was your name? Ryker?”

He growls something under his breath. “Move into the building. I’m not dealing with you out on the street like this.”

I put my hands up in defense, following his every command, and hoping to God the mystery man who keeps an eye on me comes and saves my assbeforeanything happens this time.

He leads me inside of a dilapidated warehouse that houses tons of conveyer belts. It seems at one point in time they canned and shipped something out of here. Something that’s probably done on a much larger scale somewhere else now.

Every now and again, he shoves the gun into my spine urging me forward. It’s dark, save for the moon that’s illuminating the warehouse interior through the rows of upper windows where the walls meet the ceiling, casting a glow I’ll likely never forget. Because if I don’t die tonight, it’ll be the closest I’ve ever come to death.

“Tell me why. Why Conner, why me? Why were you living across from Carina? Were you stalking her, too?”

He laughs. “She no more has a stalker than she is crazy.”

Oh, she has a stalker, alright. Well, I guesshadwould be the appropriate terminology. But I keep my mouth shut. I don’t need this psychopath going after her. I don’t know what his motivations are. Could he be mentally unstable, and just going after men who are seen with her? Because if so, this is what Carina and I had already ruled out. Coincidence.

“Conner was getting close to blabbing, and I don’t need him running his fucking mouth. He found out about me weeks ago. Too fucking nosy for his own good. My fault really. Shouldn’t have walked over to the car that day. I knew you were too fucking wracked with guilt to remember. Or rather, too concussed.” He smirks, like there’s some unspoken joke only he’s privy to.

Confusion is muddling through my brain rapidly. “So, Conner found out who you really were. And he was going to tell me? Or tell Carina?”

“Both. Fucking blabbermouth. Don’t worry, though. My years on the force helped me cover my tracks well. No one will know it was me. He’ll go down as a fucking dope head, like he should.”

“Conner doesn’t use drugs. Not since…” I trail off, shifting in my chair as he turns and points the gun lazily at me.

A grin spreads wide on his face. “Since what? Westpoint House?”

Rocks sink to the bottom of my stomach. “Yes. Since that night he hasn’t touched a drug. Neither of us have.”

“Well, he hid it well, at least. Conner has been abusing pills for years. Right under your nose. But you’ve been a shell of what you used to be. You were going to be someone remarkable before you came to the wrong party, Emery. Shit, so was I, I can’t say anything.”

Alarms blare in my head. “Wes?” It comes out as nothing more than a cracked whisper laced with fear.

“I wondered when you’d put two and two together. For Conner it only took one look to get him suspicious. He began following me in his off time, couldn’t shake the little rat.”

He’d never told me. I never knew he was following anyone. But he was that way. He always kept information close to the vest until he knew it was pertinent. Until I needed to be looped in. He took on a lot while we were friends. While we were brothers.

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