Liam whimpers. “Killing me won't stop this.”
“What isthis?”
Liam doesn’t answer Eli’s question quick enough. He criesout again as Eli smashes a hammer into one of his hands tied to the chair. The sound of bone and cartilage breaking is still noticeable despite the sounds of Liam’s pain.
“It’s your fault we discovered her anyway,” Liam spits.
Eli goes rigid.
“We’ve known that Karl’s group were looking into us for a while, well before your little stunt a few weeks ago.”
The organ traffickers.
“Shit,” Eli curses.
“I was just supposed to follow you at first. Surveillance. But then you became fixated on the shrink. It put her on our radar.” Liam shrugs. “Higher ups decided we should scare her a bit first—just to mess with you. That’s why I pretended to be a patient, to find an in. But then we realised we could keep you distracted if she was missing. It was time to take her.”
“And when you had her?” Eli grinds out the words slowly, his jaw tense.
Even broken, Liam smiles. “We do what we do best.”
Eli lets out a furious roar. Then, a pressure-filled crack tears through the air—a low, grinding pop followed by a final, decisive snap. My stomach flips as the sound echoes, a hollow percussion of bone giving way, the kind of noise that seems to shudder straight through my spine.
Liam's body slumps, his neck broken.
Silence.
My hands shake. My heartbeat crashes in my ears.
Eli turns to me, approaching slowly. Waiting to see if I’ll flinch. If I’ll recoil. If this is the moment I finally fear him.
But I don’t.
I launch myself from the chair and into his arms, wrapping around him, clinging to him.
His hands splay over my back, grounding me. Claiming me.
“You’re not scared of me,” he murmurs into my hair, almost disbelieving.
I shake my head against him. “You protected me.”
Eli exhales—a broken, relieved sound, like those three words matter more than anything. “I’ll always protect you.”
34
Tipping Point
Emily's Search History: Is it bad to want your stalker to take control?
Emily
Theroomsmellslikeblood and sweat and fear, but all I can feel is him.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Eli murmurs.
I nod, but my legs shake as he leads me upstairs. The house feels too quiet, too normal, after what’s just happened.
In the kitchen, he pours me a glass of water, and I grip it with both hands to steady myself. Eli nudges me gently into a chair by the table. “I’m going to shower, then we’ll eat, okay?” His voice is low, soothing, with a hint of worry beneath it.