Bruce slammed on the brakes to stop for a red light. The roar of blood in his ears set off an internal warning. Because this was personal, he’d let his emotions get the better of him. Unacceptable. Enraged and running off half-cocked without a plan. This wasn’t the way to execute a mission.
The light turned green, and he went through and pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store. He blew out a breath. Shoved his feelings from the cockpit to the cargo hold. He had to forget about loving Sarah and focus on what to do. He closed his eyes for a second.
Just because the text said to meet at the hotel didn’t mean the stalker was in there. Maybe he couldn’t find Sarah and planned to watch where she went after she left the hotel. Most likely, he wouldn’t chance being caught by the police if she had called them. Something was off. Right now, Bruce needed to ensure Sarah’s safety and then go after the stalker.
He rubbed his forehead. The safest place for Sarah to be was with him, but damn if he would let her anywhere near that hotel. The second-best option would be to take her to his condo where she would be protected by the security system and locks he’d personally installed. That way he could get to his knife and other weapons. A much better plan.
Back in control, he swung the truck around and cursed as lights flashed next to the railroad tracks, and the crossing gate descended.
Sarah paced the studio.
The front door flew open, and a small man burst through wielding a gun with a shaky hand. Sweat gleamed off his balding scalp, and his glasses fogged.
He pointed the gun at her. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
Terror gripped her lungs, and a scream died in her throat. He had to be her stalker. But he should be at the hotel. And she’d locked up the studio, yet here he stood.
“You know it didn’t have to end like this.” His mouth twisted, and he shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. No point in yelling for help. This room is soundproof.”
Oh God. Her chest threatened to explode. She backed away on quaking legs and scanned the area for a weapon. Bruce had insisted she not carry her illegal gun around, so it sat useless in his apartment.
The 911 call. The police were probably on the way to check her out. Maybe she could stall until they got there. Forcing words through her dry, tight mouth, she asked, “What do you mean? Who are you?”
“Why, I’m your supposed-to-be-soul-mate, Leonard. Surely, you know that.”
“Of…course. How did you get in here?” She swallowed hard and moved farther back.
A smug grin formed on his shiny face. “The same as I always do. With perfect planning. I’ve been watching this place, so I know the routine.” He puffed his chest out. “I slipped into the front between classes and hid in the men’s room. No one checks there before they leave. It gave me plenty of time to practice my speech for you.”
Shit. He’d been in the building when that text came. Probably sent it to get Bruce out of the way. It had worked. Blood roared so loudly in her head, she could barely hear. She had to keep the guy talking. “That was smart. But you always are. Tell me more. When was the first time you saw me?”
His smile fell. “You don’t remember the beautiful flowers I gave you?”
She bit her cheek. Psycho maniac. The gun no longer shook in his hands, and the calm, serene look in his eyes freaked her out even more. Placate him. She had to try to keep him from doing anything rash.
Her tongue, thick in her mouth, made speaking difficult. “I…um…yes. I do. They were perfect.”
“So you do remember. That pleases me at the same time it saddens me.” He tipped his head back. “What was special about the bouquet?”
Sarah licked her lips. A fucking test. She had no idea. If she answered wrong, the nutcase might shoot her. She had to get into his head and think like him to come up with the answer he’d want. As if she had any clue what that might be. Sweat poured down her back. “The colors.”
“What do you mean the colors?”
“They were so pretty.” Her gaze stayed on the gun. Maybe she could kick it out of his hands. Quick and strong, she’d have a chance.
“No. That’s not it. The arrangement was perfectly symmetrical. See? You failed. Just like when you chose to be with that other man.”
Her head throbbed. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you kiss him.” He scowled. “You made a fatal mistake, denying our true love. Just like Audrey.”
She lost feeling in her feet and hands as her blood rushed to her core, making her brain fuzzy. That word, fatal, again. He must plan to shoot her. Time was running out. She had to stall him.
“No, I understand now. You’re right. I made a mistake. It’s you I love. It’s always been you. I shouldn’t have listened to anyone else.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you admit you let other people sway you?”
“Yes. I mean, look how stunning you are in that beautiful suit. How could I ever not choose you?” She took a small step forward, cringing inside, but she had to get closer to the gun.
“I wore this for you.” His squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “I knew you would appreciate it.”
Good. She was distracting him. “I do. I can tell you picked it out especially for me. That makes me so happy. Just being with you now, I see how great a couple we would make. Why don’t you put the gun away and we can talk more about it?”
His eyes steeled. “It’s too late. You’re soiled. Ruined. You let another man touch you, kiss you.”
The room swayed before her eyes. She shook her head and willed herself to think. “No, you don’t understand. I only want you.”
“Too bad. You made your choice. Now it’s time for you to hear my speech.”
She had no clue what speech he referred to, but if it took time, he could talk all night.
He reached into a pocket of his suitcoat and pulled out a set of pointe shoe ribbons.
Her insides quivered. She clamped her teeth together to keep them from chattering. If he planned to strangle her with the ribbons, he couldn’t hold the pistol and do that at the same time. She’d have a fighting chance. Bruce had taught her some basics on disarming a person.
“Walk over to the barre and put your hands behind your back.” He pointed to the wall.
Damn it. She’d have to move away from him. “Why? We can talk right here. I—”
“Do as I said. Now.” He aimed the gun at her head.
She flinched and retreated to the barre.
After she did as asked, he crossed the room and stood to the side of her.
“Move one muscle, and I’ll shoot you.” His voice was calm and his hand steady on the gun.
Shit. She couldn’t chance lunging at him.
He kept the pistol trained on her head, slipped the shoe ribbon over her wrists, and cinched her to the barre. He’d thought of everything, including how to do it one-handed. After a hard yank, he stepped back. Whatever he’d done with the knot worked because she had no wiggle room. Pins and needles ran up her arm.
Drawing a longer ribbon shaped like a noose from his pocket, he came closer. “Hold still, or I’ll end this now.”
She gasped for air as he slipped the satin string over her head and tugged it snug against her neck, still holding the gun on her with his other hand. The thread cut and scratched her skin. Holy shit, he did intend to strangle her.
“Now it’s time for you to hear my speech.” He cleared his throat. “Over a year ago I went to the ballet—”
“Please, you—” She tried to slip her clammy hands out of the hold.
“Don’t interrupt me.”
A noise came from the door down the back hall, followed by the sound of footsteps.