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“Mr. Saint. I’m Kyle. Creed sent me.”
I nodded and slammed the door to my Maserati. “Any issues?”
“Nothing. The envelope was delivered to you about fifteen minutes ago.”
“By whom?”
“A courier service. I assure you I checked him out.” Kyle gave me a respectful nod.
“The sender?”
“The guy didn’t know.”
“Okay,” I told him. “Keep watch on the perimeter. I have a bad feeling my property will be compromised.”
“Yes, sir. We checked when we arrived, but we’ll keep regular shifts walking every inch of your property.”
“Thanks.”
As he walked away, I glanced from one side to the other once again. The bad feeling remained. I headed into the house, the quiet the first thing I noticed. Usually, there was music playing but when she was concentrating inside her office, she often used headphones.
I headed into my office first, needing to see what additional crap the perpetrator had sent. As I tore open the envelope, pulling out several photographs, I almost laughed. The first two were absolutely ridiculous. As if I’d had anything to do with one student inside my office, let alone the number of them I’d been doctored to appear with. I tossed them aside, angrier than I’d been in a hell of a long time.
But the second two confirmed what I already knew.
They were pictures taken of me stalking both Dylan Roxford and Zane Griffen. I searched for a note. Assholes who enjoyed the game also reveled in providing an idea of things to come.
Seeing nothing else in the envelope, I turned over the most incriminating pictures.
In bold red writing that reminded me of strings of blood, the fucker made his intentions clear.
The Angel of Death will soon meet his maker. Are you ready to die, Easton? You should be. But all good things come to those who wait patiently.
I’ll be damned.
I turned around, still struggling with blinding rage. I had to keep a cool head. The fucker wanted me off my game. That’s all this was, a fun game that up to this point he’d been winning.
Well, no more.
At least she hadn’t opened the envelope before I’d returned. However, I needed to warn her about what was to come. In truth, I was prepared to leave town for a little while and would if it wasn’t for the fact doing so would fall into the asshole’s spinning web. He truly believed he was in control.
Sadly, until we were able to discover his identity, he was.
While I loathed admitting it, doing so would put a fire under my ass. I took the stairs two at a time, taking long strides down the hall to her office door. After knocking, I took a deep breath, still uncertain what to say to her. Since when had I had difficulty finding words under any circumstances?
When she didn’t respond, I threw open the door.
She wasn’t inside.
Less than one minute later, I realized she wasn’t in either room. I jogged to the media room, the memories of the passion we’d shared weighing heavily on my mind as I opened the door.
It was empty.
My heart was racing, the realization something could have happened to her prior to the soldiers arriving kicking me in the ass.
I had a feeling there was no sense in yelling for her. Instead, I headed directly for the door leading to the garage inside the kitchen. Five seconds later I had my answer.
She was gone.
