With the woman he knew he already loved in his arms, a shared future they both wanted, and that knowledge that he’d spend the rest of the night holding her, Nate thought that life couldn’t get any better than this.
* * * * *
10:24 P.M.
He felt like he was flying.
He had finally found her.
The one.
The one he had been searching for.
He had known it from the moment he grabbed her. When he had touched her, he had felt it, when her blood had dripped down onto his skin it was like nourishment for his soul. They were connected now. Forever.
Rylla Franklin was perfect, she was everything he wanted. When she had completed her training she was going to be amazing. Better than he could have hoped. Better than he could ever have dreamed. He wasn't sure how he had gotten so lucky.
Now he just had to make sure that the police didn't figure out who he was. He couldn’t let them stop him. He couldn’t letanythingstop him. He would have Rylla, he would bring her to his special castle and treat her like the princess that she was while he taught her what was expected of her.
Right now, he wasn't quite sure how he was going to get to her. His attempt had failed. He had waited patiently for an opportunity to present itself and been rewarded for that patience when she left her home, alone, to go running. Just as he had assumed, she had been distracted and hadn’t noticed him following her in his car. When she had collapsed against the grass, he had gotten himself ready.
He had timed it perfectly. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, she hadn’t even known he was there until he had wrapped his arms around her. She had fought him as he had known she would, and she had managed to get away from him three times. Three times but there wouldn’t have been a fourth. He’d almost had her, if that man hadn’t shown up and given him no choice but to abandon everything, he would have gotten her.
That wouldn’t happen again. It had angered him that she’d managed to get a few jabs in, he couldn’t deny it. It seemed like training Rylla was going to be an excellent tool to help him learn to get his patience under control. If Rylla had attacked him like that when they weren’t out in public, he might have lost it, beaten her in a rage before his mind had cleared enough for him to make logical choices.
That could not happen. He couldn’t let himself lose control like that. If he did, he could kill Rylla without even knowing what he was doing. And then what would he do? He would never find someone else like her. He wanted someone with fire inside them. Rylla had a fire burning so brightly inside her he could almost see it from here.
But how was he going to get her?
The cops knew that he was after her because he’d told Rylla who he was. To make things worse Rylla had hurt him. She had kicked him squarely in the nose, possibly breaking it, definitely making it bleed.
That blood had gotten all over Rylla. He had no doubt that she had given her clothes to the crime scene unit, who would have run DNA tests. Those tests would have proved that whatever suspects they had were not the so called Fairytale Killer.
They would be on edge. He was coming after one of their own. They would do whatever it took to keep Rylla safe.
His blood may not point them in his direction, but it would make them more cautious. They would be watching Rylla like a hawk. They already had people watching her house. He’d seen them when he’d driven by earlier.
He couldn’t go back there to watch her, he was going to have to come at her another way. He’d have to work out something foolproof. If he made another attempt at getting her and failed again, he would never get another opportunity. They would lock her away someplace he would have no hope of getting to her.
Watching her house and waiting for her to be on her own again was out. Now he was going to have to come up with something more creative. A way to get to her that no one would expect. There had to be something, he just didn't know what it was yet. For now, he would just have to exercise his patience and see what happened next.
Because he knew one thing for sure.
He wouldn’t rest until Detective Rylla Franklin was his.
August1st
8:53 A.M.
Rylla paced up and down the small space. She felt claustrophobic.
She had suffered from the phobia most of her adulthood. When she was stressed it made it worse. Right now, she was pretty stressed. She didn't like having to leave her home because some killer had decided to fixate on her. In her mind she kept seeing the bodies of Jeannie Jones, Tillie Schueman, and Georgia Lars. She didn't want to end up like them.
Just like she didn't want to be stuck in this little cabin.
It was too small.
Naomi and Sam had had it built on the property where Naomi used to live. Her house had been burned down—almost taking Naomi and Sam down with it—and although Naomi had moved in with Sam, she liked the quiet and peace of the country and so they’d built the cabin and sometimes came and stayed here.