Suspicions. Cynthia Eden
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And I didn’t turn the lights off.
She glanced back over her shoulder. “Mark?”
It was just like before. Small things. Things that most people would overlook. But after a while, those little things had started to add up.
Ava pulled in a deep breath. Then her hand slid out, moving along the wall near the door. Her fingers touched the light switch. She flipped it on, fast, and illumination flooded the room.
The bed sheets were still tangled. Her purse was on the chair in the right corner—just where she’d left it.
The windows appeared to be closed and still locked.
She crept forward. Her body was tight with tension and fear. They’d searched the perimeter for the prowler, but maybe they hadn’t found the intruder because he hadn’t been outside. He’d been inside. The ranch house had been empty. It would have been the perfect time for the guy to sneak in.
No, I must be wrong. I left the lights off.
She bent and searched under the bed. Nothing was there. The closet was empty. She turned toward the bathroom. The door leading to the bathroom was shut, too. Ava tried to remember...
Did I leave it open or closed? She inched forward.
Open?
Another step.
Or closed?
* * *
DO NOT GO back to her. Do not. The chant echoed in Mark’s head, but his body wanted to turn around and go after Ava. She’d just looked so hurt.
And he’d never wanted to hurt Ava. He wanted to protect her. To keep her safe, always.
Why did he screw up so much when she was around?
Snarling, he turned and marched toward his bathroom. The door was partially shut, and he shoved it open. He flipped on the light—
The glass mirror was shattered. And letters were carved into the wall next to the broken mirror—rough letters that looked as if they’d been made with a shard of that broken glass.
Stay away from her.
“Ava!” He roared her name even as he whirled around and ran from the bathroom. The creep hadn’t been outside. He’d been in the house. He’d drawn them out, maybe even set off the alarm deliberately so that he could get access to the home. “Ava!” Mark was in the den now and running fast. His heart thundered in his chest. He had to get to Ava, to see her. Had to—
She ran out of her room. “Mark?” Fear flashed on her face.
“He was here,” he snarled as he grabbed her shoulders. “Someone was in my home.”
She shivered before him. “I...I know.” She pointed toward her door. “My light was off. I think he was in my room.”
The sick joker might still be in there. Mark pushed her behind his back and ran to her room. The covers were tousled, and he had a flash of Ava in that bed, with him.
So close...
Until that jerk had come and sounded the alarm.
Her bathroom door was shut. Was the guy in there? Waiting for her?
“Be careful,” Ava whispered. “I was just about to go in there...”
Forget careful. If someone was waiting in her bathroom, Mark would tear the guy apart. Mark kicked open the door. It slammed back into the nearby wall.
He saw the broken shards of the mirror on the floor. Just like in his bathroom. Words had been left behind for Ava, too. Only these words...
Don’t trust him.
“We need to search the whole house,” he said, voice flat and hard. “The video cameras were running, so we must have caught the bastard.” He turned to find Ava behind him. Her gaze wasn’t on Mark, though. It was on the message the intruder had been left behind.
The guy was trying to play games with them, but he was about to realize... Mark was an enemy he didn’t want.
No one threatens Ava on my watch.
No one.
* * *
THE HOUSE WAS searched from top to bottom. Every closet. Every corner. There was no other sign of the intruder.
Ava’s hands were shaking as she watched Mark pull up the video feed from his surveillance cameras. This was the first time the stalker had actually left any kind of message for her.
Don’t trust him.
Did the stalker really think she was going to listen to him? She trusted Mark completely. He’d protected her on the worst night of her life. She’d never turn away from him.
“There he is,” Mark muttered.
She leaned over his shoulder and...sure enough, she saw a man slipping out of the house.
The guy on the video feed was wearing a black ski mask. And as soon as she saw that ski mask, Ava lost her breath. For a moment in time, she wasn’t standing there with Mark, looking at a computer screen. She was back at her old home, hearing the thunder of a gunshot and rushing toward her house. Her father was standing in front of the window.
Run.
And a man wearing a black ski mask was lifting a gun.
“Ava! Ava!”
She blinked. Mark was in front of her, breath heaving. His arms were around her and he was holding her tightly. Get your control. Don’t break in front of him. Not in front of Mark. He was one of the few who didn’t think she was already broken beyond repair. “He...followed me from Houston.” She thought of that drive. The darkness. The stretching interstate.
All that time, she thought she’d been leaving him behind, but he’d been with her every step of the way. Had he watched while she’d packed up? Had he been there? Every moment?
Now she’d brought him to Mark’s door. No, into Mark’s house. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and she pulled away from him. Ava started walking toward the front of the house. Her steps were slow but certain.
“Ava!”
She didn’t look back. She’d never wanted to bring danger to Mark, but now she’d put him right in the center of this thing—whatever it was.
But that black ski mask...that wasn’t just a coincidence, was it? Was the guy trying to tell her something? Was he one of the men who killed my parents? Because those two men had been wearing black ski masks that night.