I lean in close, making sure her eyes are locked onto mine as I say, “And the reason I stalk you, little mouse, is because I want to. Everything I do in life is my choice. I choose my morals. I choose the ones that are worth saving and the ones that are worth killing. And I choose you.

“If you’re expecting a tragic story, you’re not going to get one. My parents were incredible people who loved me and supported me. They died in a car crash when I was seventeen. The roads were terrible, and they hydroplaned off a cliff. I lived with my father’s best friend—my godfather—for a year before going to college for computer science and started my career as a hacker.

“My parents’ death was heartbreaking but an accident. Aside from losing them, nothing bad has ever really happened to me that would lead me to slaughter evil people for a living. I make my own choices in life, Addie. That’s all there is to it.”

She swallows, her eyes darting between mine. Slowly, she raises her hand and traces a finger lightly over the scar running down my eye. I clench my jaw, relishing in the fire that her fingers leave in their wake.

Despite the severity of the conversation, my cock hardens to steel in my jeans. I’m tempted to unzip, bend her over the railing, and take her right here.

But I know we’re both incredibly sore by now, and I would crash right back into the dark headspace the second I slip out of her.

Addie doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve to have her body used so I can escape my demons.

“And your scars?”

“The first time I infiltrated a ring. One of the ring leaders was a brute and knew his way around a knife fight. He cut me up good. And it was the lesson I needed in order for me to learn how to defend myself and fight properly. No man has ever come close since. I wear these scars proudly because in the end, I won and every innocent in that building went home safe.”

“But they still haunt you.”

I nod once. “They do.”

It was the first time I was confronted with the possibility of failure. And that feeling has never quite let me go from its clutches. It’s the feeling that imprints on me like a bad tattoo each and every time I invade a ring.

Her hand drops to the side, dangling loosely as she stares at me. I stare back, each of us trying to read the other. Figure out what the other is thinking. Feeling.

“One last question,” she barters.

“Ask me as many as you want.”

“The roses. Why the roses?”

I smile. I was waiting for her to ask me about those.

“My mother. Her favorite flowers were roses. She always had them all over the house with the thorns clipped so I wouldn’t hurt myself. One year, I told her that I would be sad when she died because all the roses would die with her. So, she gave me a plastic rose and said that as long as I have that rose, she would never be truly gone.”

I shrug. “I guess I wanted to see roses all over your house, too. Maybe because you feel like home.”

She inhales sharply, seemingly taken aback by my words. Those beautiful eyes are fixated on mine, both shock and raw hunger reflecting in her caramel pools.

Licking her lips, she admits softly, “It’s going to take me some time to fully accept some things, Zade. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take me, but I can tell you that I will try. But what I can definitively accept is you saving the children and girls.”

Her lip wobbles. Before I can reach down and snatch it between my teeth, she sucks it between her own.

After a few seconds, she continues. “I admire you more than I can say for being one of far too few people willing actually to do something to save them. The world needs more people like you, Zade.”

“Maybe,” I murmur, giving in and placing a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. “But all I need is you.”

Her eyes close, and she nods to herself. I don’t know what conclusion she comes to in that pretty little head of hers, but when she opens her eyes and gazes up at me, it looks a little like she needs me, too.

My hand slides into her hair, and just as I’m closing the distance, a voice filters in through Addie’s bedroom door.

“Who's ready for a murder inves—” the loud voice trails off, replaced by a loud gasp.

Mine and Addie's heads both turn at the same time. Standing in her bedroom staring at us with a mixture of disbelief and anger is Addie's best friend.

“Hello, Daya,” I greet, my mask falling into place as I smirk and step away from Addie.

My little mouse is embarrassed. I note the hint of shame, but it was expected. It’s going to take time for Addie to truly accept within herself that she has given in to her stalker.

“What the hell? Is this him?”

My smirk widens, and I turn to look at Addie. “Have you been gossiping about me, little mouse? Did you tell her how big my cock is?”

Addie’s eyes pop comically. Her hand curls and swings it right into my chest. It feels like she just threw a slice of bread at me.

“Asshole! No!”

If it wasn’t for the small figure charging towards me, the loud stomping would be a clear indicator to the storm coming my way. I turn and swoop out of the way of another flying fist. This one packing a lot more punch.

That one might have felt like a whole loaf of bread.

I can tell the girl can hit, but fists don’t affect me these days. I’ve grown too accustomed to the bite of a bullet instead.

I laugh, catching Daya by her arm before she flies ass over teacup over the balcony.

She wouldn’t look so pretty with her face bashed in and her skull cracked open.

“Damn, you both woke up and chose violence today, huh?”

Daya rips her arm from my hand and glares at me, her pretty green eyes full of ire. And then she turns to Addie. “I thought we hated him.”

I cock a brow, also staring at Addie and waiting for her answer. At this point, she can lie and say she still does. I know the truth, and that’s what matters. I have a single feeling in my body, and it’s attached to the freckled-face girl who looks like she’s having a stroke. It’s going to take a lot more than her lying to her best friend to hurt it.

Addie's face is red and her mouth flops, but no words come out. She might even be going into cardiac arrest.

Daya trains her glare on me and opens her mouth, but I cut in, “I’d be very careful about your words and any swinging limbs. I do sign your paychecks.”

Her eyes widen, taken aback. “So it is you. You are Z?” she demands.

“What, does my face not meet your expectations?”

The look that comes over Daya's face is pure entertainment. I swear you can’t find this shit on T.V. anymore.

She flounders for an answer but comes up short. All she really can do is just stare.

“I hope you understand that Addie never really stood a chance. Don’t blame her.”

Addie crosses her arms, huffing at me and finally finding her voice. All I had to do was piss her off. “I make my own decisions, Zade. Quit acting like I didn’t have a choice.”

I just smile, letting her think what she wants. Whatever gets her pussy willingly wrapped back around my cock, I guess.

“You knew I already had suspicions, Addie. Why wouldn’t you just tell me?” This time, Daya’s voice softens, full of hurt and sadness. Addie's face drops, and that’s my cue to leave.

“I’m really sorry. I haven’t been sure how to even explain what’s happening with him.”

I take a step back, attracting both of their eyes. “I have to deal with the video. I have men stationed outside the property already.”

“What the hell? Why? I didn’t see any men,” Daya asks, her eyes widened with alarm.

“They’re not meant to be seen, Daya. You know that already, don’t you?” When her teeth click, I continue. “You two kiss and make up. I trust your judgment so whatever you decide to divulge, you have my permission.”