“You said it very recently. Of course I remember.”
“Or maybe I’m simply a memorable man,” he remarks.
I snort. “I’m sure you like to think so.”
His low hum rolls down my spine like a forbidden caress. “You enjoy our banter too. You can’t seem to help yourself.”
“Only because you’re mildly infuriating.” I gesture at his satchel before we can continue with this dangerous flirtation. “What about getting those papers out? Maybe my controlling professor could learn a few things from me this time, since you keep insisting that we’re basically peers.”
“Very sensible,” he approves, retrieving a book and a printed journal article from his bag.
He arranges them on the table between us, but instead of discussing history, he redirects our conversation to an earlier topic.
“I spoke to my friend about tracking your stalker’s messages,” he says, and my heated blood instantly cools.
We’re only here because of my stalker. This isn’t the time to indulge in my unhealthy attraction to him.
“He said he’ll look into it,” Rand continues. “I’ll need your phone for a minute.”
I hand over the device without protest.
“Show me the latest messages.” His voice drops deeper.
My fingers fly over the keypad to unlock the screen, and I navigate to the sick texts.
Rand’s face tightens as he reads them, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“I know it’s creepy,” I say. “But I don’t think he’ll hurt me.”
I’m speared by his dark stare. “This man is obsessed with you. There’s no telling how far he might go to possess you.”
My stomach dips. The psycho has killed for me.
He might promise not to hurt me, but he’s clearly out of touch with reality.
“Do you think your friend can help?” My voice is a bit too high and thin.
Rand nods. “I’m going to forward the messages to my phone. Then I can send them to my friend.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Thank you.”
“When we figure out who he is, I’ll make sure he goes away for good,” he promises darkly.
My mouth goes dry. His face is a stony, unfeeling mask.
“How?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
I shift in my seat. “I don’t want you to do anything…illegal.”
He rolls tension from his broad shoulders. “Beating the shit out of your stalker would be illegal, but I doubt he’ll report me. He’s breaking the law too.”
I consider him for a moment, then reluctantly nod my agreement.
I’ve lived through enough to know that violence is necessary sometimes.
Carter’s bloody face fills my mind. The crimson stream poured the gaping wound where I smashed the horseshoe into his skull…