TAMED | FREENBECKY

22

Kirk sat at a café table outside the local coffee shop around the corner from the courthouse, reading a magazine and trying to blend in. The dog he'd adopted from the shelter a week ago circled his feet, its leash secured around the leg of his chair.

Kirk had never imagined owning a dog before, but he liked how having one made him seem both inconspicuous and non-threatening. It was a small mutt, not too cute as to draw a lot of attention, and it offered him the perfect excuse to walk the city streets as he studied Rebecca Armstrong's routines.

She was due in court in forty-five minutes and would probably return to her lab after she gave her testimony. It was where she'd go tonight that interested him most. Lately she'd been spending a lot of time with the attractive dark-haired woman, but after their argument last night, her social patterns were probably about to change. Kirk had no idea where she slept after their fight—it had been too risky to follow her for long as she drove aimlessly through the streets after leaving her friend's place—but he planned to watch her apartment building tonight to see if she returned home.

The presence of her protection detail had complicated his plans, but he was adjusting. As soon as he spotted the same two guys parked in the street in front of her building three nights in a row, he knew that he needed to carefully choose his moments to interact with Becca. Though he yearned to get physical with her again, he had decided to hold back for now. Letting his obsession with Becca Armstrong cloud his better judgment was the surest way to get caught.

He couldn't get caught. He was too goddamn smart. For all the trouble he went through to evade identification—to never take a trophy no matter how badly he desired one, to keep all his body hair shaved off lest he leave useful evidence, to keep bodily fluids to himself—Kirk wasn't about to throw his freedom away for a quick thrill.

He was ready to kill again, though. And this time, he wanted Becca to know before he completed the act so she could feel Even worse after they discovered where he left the body.

The cops who watched her stuck with her throughout the day, so they wouldn't be guarding her apartment while she was in court. That would be the perfect opportunity to initiate the next phase of his Plan. Kirk couldn't think of a better place to leave his gift for her than on her doorstep. He hoped she decided to sleep at home tonight so she'd find it just when she thought she'd returned to a safe place. His cock stiffened at the thought of just how frightened she would be, knowing he'd stood at her apartment door only hours earlier, so close to invading her private sanctuary. Reminding her that she had nowhere to hide.

His dog—who didn't have a name, though the shelter had called it Nero—panted happily up at him as though sensing his excitement. Kirk stared back at it stone-faced. As good a prop as it was, he wasn't sure how long he'd bother to keep the animal. It was needy and messy, without any redeeming qualities except perhaps lending him some social legitimacy.

Though it was kind of cute.

Kirk lowered his hand and let the dog sniff it, then gave it a tentative scratch on the neck. The dog made a grumbling noise, licking his fingers appreciatively.

What would Becca think about a dead dog being delivered to her lab, wrapped up with a bow and a note that she could be next?

It was an option, at least, if the whole pet-ownership thing didn't work out.