A tear escapes, but I quickly wipe it away.

I killed a man.

I brought him here knowing someone dangerous was lurking, and I did it anyway.

And now he’s gone.

“Ma’am? I need to ask you a few questions,” Sheriff Walters says, walking towards the porch steps that I’m currently sitting on.

I’ve known him since I was a child. He went to school with my mother, and they were good friends. Every now and again, she’d invite him over for dinner. He’s always been kind. Quiet and soft-spoken, he always seemed more interested in listening than speaking.

He’s a tall, built man, towering to at least six-seven. I think his family descends from giants because his father and brothers are just as freakishly large. His father was a sheriff, and his father before. Pretty sure a couple of his brothers are cops, too.

One big family of gigantic cops. Just what the world needs, right.

Scruff peppers Sheriff Walters’s cheeks, and his brown eyes are tired and wary.

I already gave the run down to the responding officer, but when I told him a man was missing and I was gifted a bloody rose, he was more concerned about getting a search party going.

Considering dense woods surround me, it’s likely the man took Arch on foot until he managed to get him into a car somewhere and drive off.

I sniff, wiping snot from my nose and nodding my head.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Can you give me the name of the man who was with you here tonight?”

“Archibald Talaverra,” I answer robotically. I guess Arch being pretentious and giving me his full name paid off. I almost smile, yet it’s anything but funny.

The sheriff doesn’t speak right away. I glance at him and note his bushy black eyebrows are raised high on his forehead.

“Talaverra, huh? This man might’ve done you a favor,” he says, muttering the last part.

“What?” I squeak out, the corners of my eyes rounding.

The sheriff sighs and runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. In his younger years, I’m sure he was attractive. But now, silver is invading his hair, and wrinkles line the edges of his eyes and mouth. He looks aged and weathered, and over the years, I’ve watched his eyes grow dull and tired.

“The Talaverra’s are known criminals,” he informs me.

My eyes pop, and in that moment, I realize my mother did a terrible job raising me. My life choices are questionable at best lately.

I’m going to need to have a long hard talk with the She-Devil from above. She’s been trying to kill me off, I think. And I’m starting to wonder if I should just let Her.

“What kind of criminals?”

Sheriff Walters twists his chapped lips to the side, seeming to contemplate what he wants to say.

“Nothing has been proven. Never any sufficient evidence. But they deal in cocaine primarily. Allegedly,” he tacks on at the end, side-eyeing me. “What I can say is Archibald has been accused of domestic violence by his ex-wife several times. He’s gotten out of the charges unscathed, of course. But he’s known to be a very violent man.”

I turn my head and cover my face with my hands.

Sheriff Walters pats my back awkwardly, assuming I’m crying. But my eyes are as dry as the Sahara Desert. I’m too angry to cry. Angry at myself for being so stupid and taking a random man home.

Angry for getting that man killed. A man that is connected to a dangerous family.

“Will his family come after me?”

“No,” he responds sharply. “That family has a list of enemies a mile long. They’re not going to concern themselves with a random girl. They might look into you, but when they don’t find anything, they’ll start looking into whoever they pissed off.”

I nod my head, slightly assured by that.

“That is, if they don’t find out about the rose.”

My heart sinks like a rock into a well. I lift my head and look at him, catching onto his meaning.

“That rose was personal, Adeline. Do you know what it means?”

“I… I have a stalker. I’ve made several reports lately about my house being broken into and roses popping up everywhere I go.”

The sheriff’s brows scrunch.

“I looked into your file. There are no reports made about a stalker.”

My spine snaps straight as shock blasts through me.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice shrill and angry. “I’ve made several!”

“Calm down,” Sheriff Walters says, splaying his hands out in a gesture that matches his words. “I’ll take a deeper look when I get back to the precinct. Can you tell me now what’s been going on?”

Forcing my heart to slow, I relay everything that’s been happening. With the random glasses of alcohol being drunk while I was home alone. The roses. And the notecard with the ominous threat.

Sheriff Walters listens tentatively, pulling out a notepad and taking notes as I speak. When I’m finished, I feel even more exhausted than before.

“I’ll look into it. But Adeline? You understand that if the Talaverra’s find out you have a stalker, they might place blame?”

I rear back, completely baffled that a cop is warning me that a criminal family could come after me. But he’s never been one to sugarcoat or hide truths. On several occasions, my dad would ask details about certain things, and the sheriff would always divulge whatever he was allowed to.

There were a few times Mom had to snap at the two men for grisly conversations at the dinner table—in front of a child, no less. Sheriff Walters would apologize, but he never actually looked sorry.

“I’ll do everything in my power to stop that from happening,” he assures. Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better in the slightest.

Sighing, I turn away and stare out into the dense trees, the red and blue lights flickering and creating a shadow dance party.

I nod my head, accepting his help for what it is. This man isn’t going to be able to do a damn thing to stop a criminal from walking up to my doorstep.

Whether it’s a crime family or a fucking stalker.

Chapter 9

The Shadow

I ’ve committed homicide. Cold-blooded murder. On many men who have worn different faces of the devil. And I’ve done it for various reasons. Whether they raped a child, killed an innocent, or destroyed someone’s life that didn’t deserve it.

But I’ve never killed someone out of jealousy.

First time for everything, I guess.

Archibald Talaverra has his lips on my girl and his hands down her pants. He’s touching her. Fucking her with his fingers. Saying dirty things to her that elicits a pretty little blush of color to her cheeks.

And at that moment, I decided he wasn’t going to live tonight.

The second I saw them together it took all of my control not to storm into that club and drag her ass out of there.

Because not only was another man trying to lay claim to my girl, but Archibald Talaverra is a fucking psychopath.

A real one.

He beat his ex-wife to a bloody pulp on several occasions and made her life a living hell when she finally decided to divorce his ass.

The woman is still in a psychiatric hospital receiving treatment for severe PTSD. He literally broke the woman, and while she spends her days trying to heal from his abuse, he spends his nights in clubs and picking out a different woman to take home and fuck.

Last I heard, he’s not a nice fuck either. His form of rough play isn’t pleasurable by any means when the woman walks away with a bloody nose and a busted lip.

The asshole deserves to die. And I’m happy to get the fucking honor.

This man and his family’s crimes were small crumbs in the grand scheme of things. His family gets involved in petty crimes and sees themselves as Seattle’s mafia. But they’re ants compared to the fucking dinosaurs walking around in this city.