The Watcher

  It’s home to me.

  It’s home to Kaity.

  Now, it’s going to be home to thousands more.

  EPILOGUE

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  My eyelids flutter open, and it takes me a moment to realize there is sunlight pouring in and warming my face. I blink once, then twice, then look over beside me to where Kenai is sleeping, his breathing soft, his big arms wrapped around me, his face peaceful. Something warm swells in my chest, something real and true. I shuffle closer to him, needing to feel his warmth, needing to feel his comfort, but mostly needing him.

  I’ll always need him.

  Especially right now.

  “Kenai,” I whisper.

  He stirs, but doesn’t wake.

  I roll in his arms and kiss his shoulder. “Kenai, honey, wake up.”

  He stirs again, and with a yawn his eyes flutter open. He turns to me, pinning me with those gorgeous eyes. “What is it?” he asks, his voice husky from sleep.

  “It happened.”

  He shakes his head in confusion. “What happened?”

  “You said it would, but I didn’t believe you. But … it happened.”

  “Not following you, baby.”

  “What time is it?”

  He shrugs. “Morning.”

  “Kenai … it’s morning.”

  He shakes his head, still confused.

  “It’s morning, and how did you sleep?”

  It registers, and a huge smile breaks out over his face. “I slept the whole night through, and … so did you.”

  “So did I,” I whisper, smiling. “I slept the entire night through, without waking once.”

  “No nightmares.”

  “You said it would happen, that one day I’d wake up without them, and you were right. I did. For the first time, I woke up without them.”

  He smiles, big and beautiful. “How does it feel?”

  I snuggle in closer. “I could have them every night from now on, but I’ll always remember how it felt to wake up this morning and feel peace for the first time in forever. Even if one day is all I get, it’ll be enough.”

  He strokes a piece of hair from my forehead and leans closer, kissing my nose. “There are going to be plenty more mornings where I get to wake up and see your beautiful, carefree smile. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Then I’ll spend the rest of my days a happy girl.”

  He winks at me. “You’re already lucky enough. I mean, look at who is lying in bed next to you.”

  I giggle and kiss him.

  “Don’t get too cocky, Chief. I wouldn’t want you to stop fighting to impress me.”

  He deepens the kiss, tangling his fingers in my hair.

  “I’ll never stop fighting for you, Marlie Jacobson. Even when you’re driving me crazy, I’ll still be fighting.”

  God.

  This man.

  Perfect.

  * * *

  “She’s been sitting over there for an hour,” Kaity says, pointing to the gorgeous blonde sitting on one of our plush sofas, just staring at her hands. She looks like she needs to talk, but like most people that come into Sanctuary, she doesn’t know who to approach or where to start. That’s what we’re here for, to get the ball rolling.

  “I’ll take this one,” I say, squeezing Kaity’s hand and walking towards the woman.

  She looks up as I approach, and her blue eyes find mine. She looks terrified, but otherwise well. She’s got bright eyes, soft blonde hair, healthy skin. I sit down beside her and in a soft voice I’ve learned to master over the last few months, I ask her, “Are you okay?”

  “You’re Marlie, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve heard about this place,” she says, rubbing her hands together, “but I didn’t know if I should come in here. I’m not an abuse survivor or anything, in fact nobody has ever hurt me but…”

  “There are no rules on who can come in here,” I say carefully. “Everyone is welcome. I can see something is wrong. Do you want to tell me what it is?”

  “My sister … she’s … missing.”

  My heart aches, because I know how that feels. I know it better than anyone.

  “I’m so sorry. How can I help?”

  “I know your sister went missing, I know she was taken by a killer … I … I think mine has been, too.”

  My skin prickles. I know Clayton and Hannah weren’t the only killers out there in the world, but hearing the same fears in another person, knowing that there are still so many bad people out there, makes my heart ache. I can help only so many people, though I’d love to help them all.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You’ve heard of the killings happening in and around Denver on television, right? The ones where the killer is studying women, then tormenting them with their worst fears, then taking and killing them, before stringing them up in a tree with a bowtie around their necks?”

  I shiver. I have seen that on the news. They’ve found two victims so far. But no suspect.

  “Yes, I have heard of that. You think your sister has been taken by this person?”

  “Yes. But the police won’t believe me because she never reported anything odd. But she told me, she told me strange things had been happening. She told me she had met a man and he was seemingly normal … but then she disappeared. She just … vanished. There was a note in her handwriting, left behind, saying she just needed time away. The police said as far as they can tell, she made a choice to leave. They’re wrong. I know he has her.”

  “I believe you,” I say, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “I’m going to help you out. I don’t do this often, but for you I will, because I know how it feels to have nobody believe you. My boyfriend is the best tracker around. I’m going to call in a favor and see if he can help you.”

  “You will?”

  I smile at her. “Of course. He helped me with my sister. He’s the best at his job.”

  “Thank you so much,” she whispers. “I’m just so afraid.”

  I squeeze her hand again. “Have faith, stay strong, and never, never stop fighting. Fight to make people believe you, fight for your sister, just keep fighting.”

  “Keep fighting,” she says, nodding her head. “Thank you, Marlie.”

  “That’s what we’re here for.”

  I get her contact information and promise her Kenai will call her. I watch her disappear through the front doors then pull out my phone to dial Kenai.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he answers on the second ring.

  “Hi there,” I say. “Listen, I have a huge favor.”

  “Does it involve you and me getting naked?”

  I laugh. “Animal. No. I had a girl come in here today, she thinks her sister has been taken by a killer. The police don’t believe her. I told her you’d help out. You know I never do this, I never call in favors because you’re so busy and—”

  “I’ll do it,” he says.

  I blink. “You will?”

  “Yeah, I will. I will because you don’t ask anything of me, you deal with everyone who comes into that place on your own, so if you’re asking, I know it’s important to you.”

  “God,” I say, softly. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

  “You have, but feel free to tell me again.”

  I laugh. “I love you, Chief.”

  “Love you too, baby. I wouldn’t take on another killer case if I didn’t.”

  I shiver. “Another killer tormenting people. When will it stop?”

  “It won’t,” he says, his voice soft. “But we’ll all keep on fighting to make it less and less.”

  “I hope her sister is okay.”

  “Me too.” He sighs. “Me too.”

  I say my goodbyes and hang up the phone, then I google the recent killings and read over the details.

  Does this person truly have her sister?

  And if so, is it too late?

  I press my phone to my chest and send out a p
rayer.

  I might be only one person, but one person can indeed change the world.

  I can’t fix everything.

  I can’t save everyone.

  But I’ll give it a damned good go.

  It’s my purpose. It’s my mission.

  And now, it’s my passion.

  Read on for an excerpt from Bella Jewel’s next book

  BLIND DATE

  Available in August 2017 from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

  PROLOGUE

  “I miss you, Ray.” I see her lips mouth a touching tribute to her husband as she places a bright bunch of flowers by the headstone.

  My eyes zone in on her—small, but strong, kneeling near a puddle of water as she runs her fingers over her husband’s headstone. Her mousy brown hair is tucked neatly at the nape of her neck, pinned with a black clip. I wonder if she did that herself? Maybe her friend did, the one standing to her left, staring down at her with a soft look on her face.

  My heart flickers.

  But it isn’t out of pity for the girl. No, it’s pure joy. She’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, unlike anything I’ve ever had experience with. I’ve been watching her for a while. All the rest—their situations were different. But this one … she’s strong-willed. I can see it in the way she clenches her fists, stopping herself from breaking down. She isn’t the kind to fall to her knees and scream. She’s stronger than that. It’s written all over her, right down to the hard set of her jaw as she holds herself back from crying.

  No. She’s not like the weak-willed women I’ve played with in the past.

  I can feel it in my chest—she is the one. She’s the goal. The ultimate prize. I can’t rush with her. No, I have to take this slow; break her into tiny little pieces before I attack. I need to do my research and get this right. She isn’t going to be easy, but she’s going to be worth it. She is going to be the one I remember forever; I can feel it right down into my bones.

  Yes. She’s what I’ve practiced so hard for.

  I’ll have to change up my game. I can’t do this the way I’ve done it with all the other women. This one is special and deserves special treatment. She’s going to get everything that I’ve got bottled up inside for all this time. I’m going to play this one differently and make this girl my trophy. I’m going to swoop into her life like a hurricane, only she won’t be able to see me; she’ll feel me, though. I’ll be back for her.

  She’ll never know what hit her.

  Hartley Watson.

  I’m coming for you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “C’mon, Hart, it’s been four years. You can’t keep hiding away, avoiding the world.”

  I glance at Taylor, my best friend and a royal pain in my ass, and grimace. “Maybe so, but going on a blind date hardly seems like the ideal situation to get back out there. I’ve read about those, they never end well.”

  Taylor raises a pretty blond brow; even giving me a sarcastic expression she looks gorgeous. Blond, tall, lean, and fit. She doesn’t need to worry about finding a date—she has them lining up. “How would you know? You’ve never been on one. You were with Raymond for ten years. When was the last time you even knew what it was like to meet a new person?”

  The mention of my husband’s name has my chest constricting. It’s not as bad as it used to be. During those first few years after I lost him in a car accident, there was a stabbing pain every living, breathing moment. I don’t think I went a day without that pain cutting through me. But over time, it turned into a slow ache, some days worse, some days barely there, but always a constant, in one way or another. A continuous reminder that he’s gone, and that I’m still here without him. At least I can wake up without tears running down my cheeks now. That was a big step.

  That was when I first felt like I was finally healing. It was six months ago.

  “I don’t want to meet any new people.” I shrug. “Not by forcing it, anyway. It seems wrong…”

  Taylor keeps that eyebrow raised, and crosses her arms, causing the purple blouse she’s wearing to crumple up at the front. “Look, honey, I know you might not want to be ready, or even want to think about it, but it can’t hurt to go on a date. It’s not like you have to marry the guy. You have a few drinks and if you don’t like him, you leave and never have to see him again.”

  I study her for a moment. She’s stubborn. She doesn’t budge when she gets an idea in her head. Those hazel eyes hold mine without hesitation, without even flickering in a different direction. She won’t back down, and I damn well know it. When Taylor is in one of her “life-changing” moods, nobody can tell her no. Nobody.

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I mumble, turning my attention away and squinting as I try to feed a piece of cotton into a needle so I can sew a button onto my favorite green blouse that I’ve probably far outworn, but I can’t part with it. It’s comfortable, so incredibly comfortable. And it was the last thing I wore when Raymond was alive. The last thing he touched. The last thing he saw me in.

  Taylor makes a little sound in her throat, bringing my full attention back. “Hart, you’re young and you could be out there, getting all the love you deserve. Can you just do this for me? Please? Go on a few dates, and if you hate them I swear I’ll never ever mention it again. I’ll leave you to sew buttons and stay huddled up in this apartment for another four years, wasting away.”

  I give her a foul look and she blinks innocently at me.

  Damn her. She’s good. She knows how to push my buttons and get beneath the surface to stir me up and get what she wants. We’ve known each other too long, that’s the problem. She might as well be my sister, my other half, basically a part of me. And she can read me like a damned book.

  “One,” I say, looking back down and feeding the needle through the button and then through the material of my blouse. “One date, and that’s it.”

  “Five.”

  I snort. “One.”

  “Four dates. C’mon, Hartley.”

  She puts her hands together in a pleading gesture. Those big eyelashes batting as she looks at me, like some sort of desperate kitten.

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Two.”

  “Three and we’ll call it even.”

  I sigh. “I don’t know why I have to go out with three men. Can’t I just go out on one date and be done with it? I’m not interested in seeing anyone. I’m not sure I’ll ever be interested in dating anyone again. Honestly.”

  She’s already smiling way too big, because she knows she’s won. She knows it and she’s thrilled with it. “You don’t know until you try, and hey, you might even just find a friend out of it. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a friend at the very least?”

  I squint at her again. “Last time I checked, that’s what you are.”

  She smiles prettily. “Yes, but I mean a male friend. One who might make you laugh. Who might make you feel good again.”

  “You do all of that,” I mumble, putting the needle between my lips as I try to adjust the button. I know what she means but I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of admitting it.

  “Stop arguing with me, and just do as you’re told.”

  I giggle and the needle drops from my lips. I know what she’s doing, and I know it’s probably time I give in and start getting back out there, but the very idea of dressing up and going on a date makes me cringe. I don’t think it’s because I don’t want to, I mean, sure, one day I do want to meet someone. I guess it’s just the fear of being that … open with someone again.

  I never really dated Ray. We met through mutual friends when we were in our early twenties and we just sort of started talking—he made me laugh, I’ll always remember that. During our first conversation, he had me in hysterics. One thing led to another and before I knew it, we were together. Sure, we went out after that, but there was never the awkward first date moment, where the possibility of getting stuck with a stranger for at least an hour is high.

  Then there is the i
ssue of trying to figure out something to say. I groan inwardly, I’m honestly not sure I’m cut out for this. I’ve never been good with new people, let alone small talk, but Taylor is right, it has been four years and I’ve held myself back. I can’t do that forever. So maybe enduring a few dates is, at the very least, a step in the right direction. I don’t want to be alone forever, I truly don’t, but I won’t deny that the idea of stepping back into the terrifying world of dating does frighten me a little.

  “Fine,” I give in, and sigh. “Three, but that’s it. When it doesn’t work out with any of them, and it likely won’t, then you leave me alone and mention nothing of the male species again.”

  She claps her hands together. “It’s a deal, but you have to at least try. I don’t want to hear you showed up on your worst behavior and ruined things before the men even got to say a word.”

  I huff. “You just ruined my plan. I was going to wear my ugliest jeans, and dribble while I ate.”

  She slaps my arm and I grin up at her.

  “Don’t be smart, Hartley. Trust me, this is going to be good for you.”

  I grunt. It’ll definitely be something for me, but whether good is the word I’d use is to be determined. “Where, dare I ask, are you going to find these three eligible bachelors?”

  She grins mischievously and rubs her hands together. I don’t want to hear her answer, not when she’s giving me a look that screams she’s been up to no good. “I’ve already found them.”

  She. Wait … what? How in the hell could she have found three men, in such a short time?

  “Taylor!”

  She puts her hands up in self-defense as I throw the nearest item at her, which happens to be a roll of thread. It bounces off her shoulder and trails across the floor, leaving a long line of string in its path. Great. That’ll take forever to roll back up.

  “Come on, you didn’t think I would get you to agree without having this all ready to go, did you?”

  I scowl at her. That’s exactly what I was thinking. I figured I had at least a few weeks or maybe she’d move on to something else and forget about it entirely. Besides, where in the hell does she have time to find three men for me, as well as work, and basically attempt to run my entire life?