Walk In My Shadow: A Gripping Romantic Thriller (Mirror Book 3): A Mirror Novel

by Stephanie Tyler

  "I wish you didn't have to know this," Dad continued. Abby looked to Teige, who was staring straight ahead with a hard look in his eyes.

  So angry. Just like Vance's eyes were, the entire time she was telling him the story. "I'm okay, Vance. Really."

  "No, you're not. And you shouldn't be. I'm not okay either, Abby. And we need to be okay admitting that."

  She wouldn't be comfortable admitting anything of the sort. Holding tight to being fine—and most of the time, believing it to be true—was what kept her moving forward. "We're okay. You're got to believe that so we can move forward."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Vance knew that he had very few chances like this one. In order for him to keep Abby safe, he'd have to break his own fucking heart, and possibly hers in the process.

  She'd get over it. Would he? It didn't really matter at this point. "The best thing you can do is to stay away from me."

  "Not an option," she told him.

  "It's the only option." He stared at her but she refused to break the gaze first. So he hit lower. "I don't think this is working. I'm not putting your life at risk so I can get laid every once in a while. I can find enough ass."

  It stung, because he was so good at selling truths and lies. How could she tell the difference?

  The way you've done it since as long as you can remember—the way you did it when you first met Vance.

  She whistled. "You call twice a night 'every once in a while'? I can't wait to see what you define as frequent. Looking forward to it, actually."

  "You don't want to believe it, but honey, you're not the first woman I seduced for the job, and you won't be the last."

  "Are you going to continuing saying that in the hopes that you might actually believe it at some point?" she asked, forcing herself to remain calm. Because Vance feared for her life—she had to prove that she was strong enough to handle all of it—again and again.

  Because she was.

  "I believe every word I'm saying," he ground out.

  "You're in deep, Ace. So am I, in every sense of the word. You wouldn't let me go—why shouldn't you expect me to do the same?"

  "Because—"

  "If the phrase 'because you're a woman' is going to come out of your mouth—"

  "I was going to say because you've already been to hell and back. I won't drag you down again. Stay away. Let me take care of it."

  "Because that worked so well for Ethan?" Her words were soft and not at all accusatory. "I've already lost him. And he would want us to protect each other. Don't pretend you don't know that for sure."

  "I'm dragging you into this," he insisted.

  "No, you're not. The stalker is. I'm here. It's done."

  "Abby, this isn't your battle. I've got no right to involve you in something that makes you a pawn…again. Please, don't force me into that position."

  "I can handle it."

  "No!" he roared.

  She crossed her arms and stared at him. And then, she decided to change tactics. She shrugged. "Fine. I can't keep trying to convince you. Actually, you're right. We can't do this. You'll be worried about me, which means you can't be effective. I guess you're not professional in that way."

  "So says you," Vance countered.

  "You're thinking about disappearing—just like Ethan. So you're trying to make me invest in you—"

  "I'm trying to save your goddamn life."

  "By running."

  "I promised Ethan—"

  "I don't care. I'm not some piece of precious glass that has no say." She pressed her fingers to her temples. "You know what? Go. Because you'll never have the balls to do what you want to do."

  "I don't have the balls? Sweetheart, I was in your pants the first night we met."

  "You were under my shirt—big difference." She licked her bottom lip. "Furthermore, I seduced you."

  "That's what you think." He grabbed her, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder, caveman style.

  She smiled the entire way up the stairs, only stopping when he half-threw her onto the bed. Because she needed to pretend to be mad, so mad that he was staying with her.

  “If this is your primary method of seduction, it definitely needs work,” she informed him haughtily.

  “Really? I’m sure you won’t be saying that when you’re coming,” he told her smugly as he pulled her clothes off.

  In turn, she helped to strip him so by the time they were both naked, he’d pretty much forgotten what he’d been trying to tell her. For the moment, anyway, because his hands, his mouth, his tongue were everywhere on her skin, teasing her, tempting her…making her cry out his name.

  No, he wasn’t leaving her behind. He never did so in bed and she sure as hell wasn’t going to get left behind from his life. Not now.

  Fiercely, she gripped him as he entered her, holding on and refusing to let go through his climax.

  When he half collapsed on top of her, she caressed his back, feeling the scratches she’d left on his skin. Because he wasn’t the only one who could mark.

  “By the way, I know you did that on purpose,” he mumbled.

  “What? Came? Definitely.”

  He raised his head and shook it at her. “Fucking temptress. Tricking me into having sex with you instead of forcing you out of my life.”

  “I know,” she deadpanned. “I’m a terrible person. Forgive me.” She paused. “Can we do it again though?”

  He laughed…and then he complied.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next day, Abby went over to Teige's house to fill him in on everything that was happening. As she told Vance, it was time to come clean to her brother and to Jacoby too.

  "They'll help," she'd told Vance before she came here.

  Vance had looked completely doubtful and muttered, "They'll want to kill me."

  Now, staring between Teige and Jacoby's faces, she could see that Vance had been right. Although neither man seemed very surprised at what she'd told them, both listened patiently to her story. Granted, Teige's version of patience involved heavy pacing and cursing through the story.

  When she finished, he stopped and stared at her. "What the hell, Abs? Are you kidding me with this shit?"

  She gave a short laugh with zero humor behind it. "I wish."

  Jacoby remained silent, watching them both as Teige told her, "You can't trust Vance."

  "Why not?" she asked.

  Teige threw his hands up in the air. "Abby, did you hit your head when Mara tried to kill you last year?"

  "I trust my gut," she told him. "You looked into Ethan for me. You know something's up there. It lines up with what I learned from Vance."

  Teige pointed at her. "If he hurts you…"

  "He's trying to keep me away. For my own good."

  "We all know how well that works," he muttered. "Maybe you should just listen to him."

  "I wish I could."

  "You've put yourself in danger your whole life."

  "So have you," she pointed out.

  He sighed. "Saying 'it's different, I'm a guy' won't get me anywhere in this argument, will it?"

  "It'll get you punched," she told him. "I might do that anyway."

  "I figured," he muttered.

  "I'm going to protect him," she insisted.

  Teige and Jacoby stared at her. Finally, Jacoby said, "You're going to protect the CIA agent."

  "He's technically on leave, but yes. What's wrong with that?"

  "Can't he protect himself?" Teige asked.

  "Ethan thought he could and look what happened to him," she pointed out. "Vance needs backup."

  "He's part of the goddamned CIA," Teige shot back and then he looked at Jacoby, who told him, "That means shit—and we both know it."

  "How do you beat someone who's got some serious CIA juice on their side?" she mused. Jacoby and Teige glanced at one another. "What are you thinking?"

  Jacoby gave her a wry grin. "Use the FBI."

  "No—you'll get in trou
ble. I just wanted to pick your brains," she protested.

  Jacoby put his hand over his heart in mock hurt and said to Teige, "Imagine someone only being interested in our brains."

  Teige shook his head. "Definitely not for yours."

  Jacoby snorted. "Give me the files, Abby."

  "Nope."

  "We've already read them," Teige pointed out.

  She stared at them, both wearing fake-innocent faces, which was ridiculous considering what Teige had admitted. "You're both thieves—dirty, rotten thieves."

  "Dirty, yes. If we were rotten, we couldn't have stolen them from you," Jacoby sniffed and Teige nodded.

  "I hate that you two are friends," she muttered. “I need Kayla home from work for backup.”

  "Anyway," Jacoby said, ignoring her. "We need a several-pronged attack here. A one-against-one-operative approach won't work for shit."

  "But why?" she asked, hearing the frustration in her own tone. "He's just one man. A trained operative, yes, but so was Ethan. So is Vance. How can this guy be so elusive? Is it the Whitelist?"

  "I'm assuming that's where the majority of his support comes from. Look, I'm sure his superiors think he's doing an amazing job of surveillance—which he is—and because of that, they don't question when he asks for other things," Teige explained.

  "Like shutting off someone's water or electricity?" she asked. "Or is that part of the stalker's MO?"

  "Hard to say," Teige admitted.

  "So we focus on the people actively supporting this guy—how? Take them out or try to make them understand who—what—they've got in their midst?" she asked.

  "Take them out," Jacoby said immediately.

  Teige sighed. "I say we try the other option—or let Vance try once we get him evidence."

  "So I guess neither of you will be giving me any arguments, then?" she asked. "Because if you do, I can just walk out and do this all on my own. It would probably be much easier."

  Jacoby simply snorted and Teige headed to the door.

  "Where are you going?" she called after him.

  "To have a talk with Vance," he said over his shoulder.

  "That's not gonna go well at all," Jacoby mused.

  "You dragged my sister into a fucking mess."

  Teige had marched into the house and had Vance by the front of his shirt before Vance could respond. Teige's voice was controlled but terse…and there was a death look in his eyes that Vance had fully expected, which was why he wasn't fighting Teige's hold. Or punching him unconscious.

  "Yes," was all he replied. Because it was the truth. Maybe it hadn't started with him, maybe it wasn't his fault, but the truth was, Abby was being hunted because of her association with Vance and Ethan.

  "I should kill you."

  "Don't think I haven't thought of that myself, Vance muttered.

  "Right—leave her behind."

  Vance saw red, slammed Teige against the wall and held his forearm against Teige's throat, pinning him. "I would do it if I thought it would save her from this shit, asshole. I'd never leave her behind to deal with any of it. I avoided her for months hoping she'd be able to walk away from all of the crap Ethan went through. When I saw she wasn't going to be allowed to, that's when I stepped in."

  "Made things worse," Teige managed.

  "You got a plan to make it better?" Vance challenged before letting go of Teige and walking a few steps away.

  "Killing you would make me feel better," Teige offered.

  "Teige, this isn't helping." Jacoby had materialized out of seemingly nowhere, his voice low. "Don't do this to Abby. She's going through enough already."

  "You think I don't know that, that I don't see what he's putting her through?" Teige asked as the door slammed and Abby walked in on them

  "Right now, you're the one putting me through something," she pointed out. "Either we all work together or I'll leave town with Vance and we'll go underground until we figure this out."

  "Don't threaten me, Abby," Teige warned.

  "Teige, what are you doing? Let go of that man and help your sister," Kayla said.

  "How did she sneak up on us?" Jacoby asked.

  "Because I'm learning from all of you," Kayla informed them. "Teige, let him go. Abby, what do you need from us?"

  "But Kayla—" Teige started.

  "We're helping your sister and this nice man."

  "Vance," Vance offered.

  "Hey Vance, I'm Kayla. My sister tried to kill Abby," Kayla said briskly. "I think we'll have some things in common."

  "This place is a fucking nuthouse," Jacoby muttered. "No wonder I feel right at home."

  Despite the brief moment of levity, Abby knew that none of them doubted how serious the situation they faced was.

  Vance, especially, since he turned to all of them and spoke evenly. "You have to know that by involving yourself, by letting Abby stay involved, you're a target, Teige. You, Kayla, Jacoby and Ward. All of you can and will be in his crossfire."

  "Wow, didn't think of that," Teige said dryly. "I guess it must be a CIA thing."

  "You worked for the CIA at one point," Vance countered.

  "They'll forever deny it," Teige said easily. "And it's not your decision."

  Vance stared up at the ceiling, fists clenched. "I guess this goddamned stubbornness runs in your family."

  "It extends to their friends too," Jacoby added helpfully. "Dude, if you think we're scared of a serial killer—"

  "Christ." Vance ran his hands through his hair, continuing to mutter curses under his breath.

  Abby almost felt sorry for him, but Vance would do no less to help her than she was doing for him. "I still think I'm the key to all this—the crux of the problem. The stalker's problem."

  Jacoby nodded slowly. "I ran it by Ward. He agrees. The guy's become as obsessed with you as he is with Vance's family. And he wants to know if you're the surrogate…or was Ethan?"

  He was looking at Vance when he asked that last question. Vance furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, then closed it. Like what Jacoby had asked was a possibility he'd never considered. "Shit," was all he finally said, then, "Holy fucking shit."

  "I take that as a yes," Jacoby said calmly. "Can you elaborate?"

  "He needs a drink first," Teige offered, and got up to pour one.

  Vance accepted it gratefully, drank it down in one gulp, then sat staring at the carpet in front of him for several long moments. Finally, he started. "My father was killed in the line of duty…as a special agent for the CIA, when Ethan was eighteen. My mother died six months later. Everyone said it was from a broken heart. Docs said most likely a heart attack, but dammit, she'd been healthy."

  "And that's when Ethan's stalker started," Abby breathed.

  "If the killer's in the CIA, he was probably green as fuck when he killed your father," Jacoby pointed out. "He picked off your family. He used Ethan to season himself. And to keep your brother away from you."

  "Leaving you alone. In the open," Abby said softly. "I don't understand any of this."

  "Sometimes they don't understand it themselves," Jacoby pointed out gently. "Just because there's a method to the madness doesn't mean it has any logic we can accept."

  "But it's not a serial until three like crimes have been committed," she said, her delivery as rote as textbook. "We have two distinct crimes at the moment—so either the killer was framing Ethan to distract, which isn't very serial killer pattern at all or…"

  "Or it's not a serial killer," Vance said. "Do you think he was stalking all those other men he killed?"

  Jacoby shook his head. "I think they were practice. A way to temper his need to kill. He justified it by picking men and women who he knew no one would care about. Bad people. And he practiced killing on them, because you are, for whatever reason, the long game."

  "Are there other CIA agents who've committed suicide in recent years? Maybe we can talk to their families and…" She turned and saw his expression. "Right, forgot that I'm dealing with s
ecrets and lies and lies and secrets."

  "These aren't crimes of opportunity. The killer's got a deep connection with Ethan. He's a planner," Jacoby added. "Stalkers are overwhelmingly male. There aren't a lot of cases on the books for male-on-male stalking. So, for this stalker…is it sexual?"

  "It's not like Ethan was getting flowers or dick pics," Vance said.

  After Teige, Kayla and Jacoby left, Vance remained on the couch, staring into space. Processing, she supposed. She understood, because her brain was spinning as well.

  Finally, he said, "I'm going to order some pizza. You in?"

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "I've got to call Knox and fill him in too," he said.

  "I'll give you some space."

  "You don't need to."

  She smiled. "I know. But I need to go shower and calm down a little."

  He stood and wrapped his arms around her. "We're getting closer, Angel."

  "I know." She tilted her head up and kissed him. "Now get us some dinner please."

  She went upstairs and took a long, hot shower, her brain refusing to shut off. Instead, it kept cycling through the conversations and theories about CIA agents and Whitelists and the like.

  As she came out, wrapped in a towel, her phone began to ring. She glanced at it quickly.

  Private number.

  It couldn't be…

  "Ethan?" she asked tentatively. Would the stalker be that bold to call now?

  Obviously, the answer was yes. Over the crackled line, she barely made out Ethan's voice—the imposter stalker's voice—asking, "Have you missed me, Abby?" and making her blood chill.

  "So much," she managed to choke out while sounding sincere as she walked down the stairs, clad in just a towel, looking for Vance. He glanced up from the couch when he saw her coming and rather than put the phone on speaker, she sat close enough to him so he could hear everything. "Please, can't you come see me? I know we can work things out."

  The stalker said, "But I thought you were happy calling things off, just being friends."

  How he knew the exact wording of their breakup conversation? "I thought I was, but I've missed you. I've been rethinking our relationship. Am I alone in this?"