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getting away, not until she’d answered all of his questions. “At the police station, you should have told me—”

      “You keep looking at me as if you think I’m going to shatter. I didn’t want you to think I was crying wolf, either.”

      Fuck. “There’s something you need to understand. Right the hell now.” He stared into her eyes. Got lost in her gaze, like he used to do. “I will always believe you. I have never doubted you.”

      She sucked in a sharp breath. “But I doubted you.”

      Oh, shit. “That wasn’t what I—”

      Her hand came up between them and her palm slid over the stubble that covered his jaw. He hadn’t shaved that morning. Deliberately.

      Because if I have stubble or a beard...maybe I don’t look quite as much like him. Jason had always been freshly shaven. He’d always been so fastidious about his appearance. An organized, obsessive killer—

      “It’s his face.”

      Every muscle in his body locked down at her soft words. “His face. But I am not him.” He wouldn’t be, fucking ever. But had Dawn sensed the darkness in him? All that seething energy that he kept bottled up every moment? He wouldn’t let it out. He’d never let it touch her.

      “It hurt me, at first, to see you.”

      He knew that. When he’d tried to make love to her after the attack...

      Her screams haunted him.

      “But then you were gone—” her hand was still against his cheek “—and that hurt worse.”

      What?

      She swallowed. Her hand fell back to her side. “But that’s in the past. We both moved on.”

      “Someone didn’t move on. Someone is out there, starting his crimes again.” And that had him breaking out into a cold sweat. “Why do you think someone has been watching you? Tell me everything, right now.”

      Because he truly did believe her. He would always believe her.

      Only you’re wrong, Dawn. We both haven’t moved on.

      If only that part was true.

      * * *

      THE PLAYERS WERE TOGETHER. He’d waited. He’d been so patient. So careful. But now they were all there.

      He watched as Dawn led FBI Special Agent Tucker Frost away from the coroner’s building. They’d been having quite the conversation moments before, but now they were hurrying from the scene. Did Tucker realize he had a tendency to stand too close to Dawn? That was a dead giveaway.

      He knew plenty about body language. About the unspoken cues that could give away a person’s real emotions. People lied with words, but their bodies always told the truth.

      Tucker still cared about Dawn. That was his weakness. But just how much of a weakness, well, that remained to be seen.

      Tucker had left the scene. He and Dawn had vanished. He’d find them later. He kept his gaze on the coroner’s building. His victim was still in there.

      Eventually, they’d find out who the woman was.

      But he’d planned for that. Just as he’d planned for everything.

      How much will you be able to take, Tucker, before you break? Because he knew there was a darkness inside of Tucker. And it was time to let that darkness come out and play.

      I’ve been waiting for this moment. For a very, very long time.

      Seven years, to be exact.

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