Page 63 of Unhinged

“I must have forgotten to set the alarm. I remember being in a hurry because you had just shown up, and…” She shrugged. “I must’ve walked right out without arming it.”

“Do you want me to look around?”

“No, it’s okay.” She waved off his offer. “I’m sure it was just me. I’ve been a little sidetracked lately.”

“I can see how that’d happen.” He pulled her in for a quick kiss. “Go on up and change, sweetheart. I’ll be right here. Unless you’d like some help. I’d be more than happy to lend a hand. Or two.”

He hooked a finger in the waistband of her jeans, and she pushed him away with a laugh. “You stay right here.”

“I don’t even get to watch?”

She stretched up on her toes for another kiss. “Maybe if you’re nice, you’ll get to see me tonight.”

She threw a saucy smirk over her shoulder, hips swaying with each step as she disappeared from view. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and sank onto the couch with a grin. That woman was going to be the death of him.

He’d stopped by the Vantage office yesterday and told Knox about Hannah’s assault back in Ohio. He suspected her captor had been trailing her for years, but the question was—why target her now? She’d changed her name, done everything right to cover her tracks. Since she’d been a minor at the time, her record was sealed.

Or, at least, it should have been. Had someone managed to find the original file, or had the killer just now found her by sheer luck? Knox was doing some digging into the case and would let him know what he’d found. So far, he hadn’t heard anything.

“Luke?” Hannah’s voice floated down the stairs, and he called back to her, eyes never leaving the phone.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Luke.”

Her voice was soft, deceptively calm, yet he could hear the tension hovering just below the surface. He was already rising from the couch, stowing his phone away when he caught sight of Hannah. She’d paused halfway down the steps, face white as a sheet.

“What’s wrong?”

She lifted a shaky hand to point over her shoulder. “Someone was in my room.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded silently, and he slipped his hand into hers. After all she’d been through, there was no harm in making her feel overly secure.

“Is something missing?” He watched her face as she spoke.

“I can’t tell.”

He lifted a brow at the strange statement. She’d only been up here for a minute or two; how could she have possibly…?

He turned his gaze toward the bedroom, swearing as he jerked to a stop.

The room had been massacred. Whoever was responsible had spent an inordinate amount of time taking their rage out on her bed. The pillows were shredded, and her mattress had been hacked literally to pieces, most of which littered the floor like a fine layer of snow, covering everything underneath.

Rage rippled through him, and he clenched his fist to keep from putting it through the nearest wall.

Admittedly, he hadn’t really taken her claim seriously, thinking she’d just been stressed out and reading too much into things. Turning to the woman in question, he noted her remarkable calm. She was scared, he could see it in her eyes, but she assessed the situation with a steel spine.

Unable to control his rioting emotions, he hauled her against him. “Thank God you weren’t here.”

She allowed him to wrap his arms around her, but her eyes never wavered from a spot on the wall across the room.

“What’s wrong?”

She lifted a shaky finger and pointed. “That necklace.”

It hung from the blade of a knife that’d been driven into the drywall just to the right of the bed. “Is it special to you?”