Opening her eyes, she looked at Dominic without really seeing him. “And then he made me watch as he tortured my parents. He killed my father first, and then my mother. After it was all said and done, he told me my parents had to pay for all their sins, but I was innocent in all of it. He kissed my forehead, told me he loved me, and that he was sorry. Then he put me in the closet and disappeared.”
“Holy hell,” Dominic breathed hoarsely.
“Agent Simmons is a smart man. He knew the Jesus Christ Killer had never left anyone alive. Every one of his victims had been childless. My parents weren't killed for the same reason as the other victims were, and he damn well knows I was left alive for a reason.”
“Do you—” Dominic broke off, swallowing hard. A trickle of sweat slid down the base of his spine as he tried to formulate the question he wanted to ask.
“Do I know why he left me alive?” she asked, arching an eyebrow coolly when he nodded his head jerkily. “I’ve asked that question all my life. Why did he care enough to let me live? Why did he force me to watch as he killed my parents, but placed me in the closet with headphones on while he raped my mother?”
“Christ, Stephanie, no wonder you can’t sleep,” Dominic muttered, bile rising within his throat. Twisting away from her, he bent over and vomited. Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, he refused to look at her, embarrassed by his reaction. “How the hell can you be so calm about all of this?”
“I can because I’ve had more than eleven years to come to terms with it. Trust me, after it happened, I had the most god-awful nightmares. I had to come to terms with what happened pretty quickly, because my aunt made it clear that she wasn’t going to help me deal with it. In fact, I think she got her kicks out of seeing me in pain.”
Pulling a bottle of water out of her handbag, she handed it to Dominic. “Drink this. It will help.”
He took the bottle gratefully, twisting off the lid and drinking deeply. He closed his eyes, still coming to grips with what she’d told him. A shudder ran through him, and his grip on the bottle tightened. Stephanie had been through so much; she’d seen so much pain and despair in her life, yet she’d managed to survive it. Studying her, he acknowledged she hadn’t walked away from it unscathed. The night she’d shown up at his bar for the first time, she’d been looking for something to take away her pain. He was determined to be that something.
Studying him, she said quietly, “I’ve come up with many reasons as to why he left me alive that night. In the beginning, I thought he was trying to punish me. I used to think he made me watch their murders to hurt me. I figured he thought witnessing their murders and being the only one to walk away unscathed would scar more than anything else he could ever do.
“After my parents died, I moved in with my aunt, Kerri. She was a real gem. When she wasn’t drinking my parents’ fortune away, she was telling me my parents were murdered because of me. Kerri constantly told me it was my fault they were dead. She used to call me the devil’s spawn. I never understood it, but now I do. He left me alive for one simple reason.”
“And that was?” Dominic asked cautiously, lifting his head to stare at Stephanie’s emotionless expression.
“Love.”
“LOVE?” DOMINIC ECHOED, disbelief coloring his voice. “How the hell is killing your parents in front of you an act of love? Stephanie, he slaughtered your parents and made you bear witness to it. That’s not love. That’s just fucked up.”
“I never said it wasn’t a twisted kind of love,” Stephanie drawled, amusement dancing in her eyes. She looked down at their joined hands, absentmindedly rubbing her thumb against his in a soothing, circular motion. “It’s one of the most screwed up versions of love you can get, but that’s what it is—love. I’ve thought about the reasons why he wanted me to watch my parents die. Over and over, I’ve analyzed it, and I’ve come up with a couple of different reasons.
“First of all, I think he wanted me to be a witness to their punishment. In his eyes, they’d sinned, my mother especially, and they had to die. Secondly, I think he wanted me to learn a valuable lesson. He wanted to teach me to control my emotions, and in some ways he did teach me to do this. He prepared me for my aunt, and the hell she inflicted on me. I learned pretty quickly that control was the key. I might not have liked the way she treated me, but I quickly realized that if I could control my emotions, I had the upper hand. The Jesus Christ Killer taught me that losing control made me weak. It gave my aunt power over me.”
“That’s one hell of a lesson to inflict on an eight-year-old,” Dominic said, his own voice thick with emotion. Looking at the woman sitting beside him, he watched her shrug carelessly as if she didn’t care what had happened. He knew differently. Clearing his throat, he said softly, “Tell me about Katrina?”
Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him. With sardonic amusement, she murmured, “You’ve been doing your homework. Or your ex-girlfriend has been abusing the resources within the LAPD.”
Withdrawing her hand from his, she silently wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “Katrina was a girl who loved life. She was young, beautiful, carefree, and more than anything, she wanted to get out and experience all the good things the world had to offer. Instead, she had her life ripped away from her one brutal night. And it was all because of me.”
When Dominic didn’t say anything, she quickly looked at him. He silently wrapped his arm around her waist and angled her body closer to his own. Taking her hand in his own, he raised it to his mouth, kissing the inflamed scar briefly before bringing it down onto his thigh again.
Subconsciously digging her nails into his thigh, she said softly, “Katrina and I met the first day of orientation week. She was the first person I really connected with. Like me, she was from San Francisco, and like me, she didn’t feel like she fit in anywhere. She left San Francisco to escape her domineering parents. Shortly after, I met Angel and Carolyn.”
“Not Gena?” Dominic asked quietly, watching her shake her head.
“No, Gena transferred to our university from New York about a month after Katrina was murdered. Shortly after she moved into our dorms, Gena woke up to my screaming. She almost broke our door down trying to get to me. She’s going to make one hell of a police officer.” Pausing, she gave him a tiny smile. “After Katrina’s murder, the nightmares were pretty vivid, and I used to wake up every night shaking and screaming.”
“And, you don’t now?” Dominic asked quietly.
Stephanie laughed shakily. “In order to have nightmares, you have to sleep, and I try not to do too much of that.” Swallowing hard, she said seriously, “Every time I close my eyes, I can feel him close to me. He’s breathing down my neck, but I can never see his face. It’s almost like he is within my reach, and every time he gets close enough for me to see him, to remember, I wake up screaming.”
Breaking off, she whispered, “I’m getting ahead of myself, though. From the beginning Katrina, Carolyn, Angel and I were inseparable. We were young, foolish and reckless.”
Closing her eyes, she smiled, recalling her first few months of university before everything changed. Her smile faded and she abruptly opened her eyes, meeting Dominic’s concerned gaze. “Actually, that’s not really true. Angel, Carolyn and I were the reckless ones. Kat was just the tag-along, a tag-along we were happy to have with us. She was my best friend. She had such a sweet quality about her and an innocence that was so damn refreshing, and she really did believe that LA was where dreams came true. I didn’t have the heart to tell her any differently.”
Dropping her gaze to where her hand rested on Dominic’s jean-clad thigh, she flicked her gaze up to his. “Shortly after we settled into our sorority, we started getting hang-up calls. At first, we thought it was harmless. Just pranks our boyfriends were playing on us. Kat and I had gone out clubbing with Angel and Carolyn. She’d been wearing my clothes, and I remember she’d gotten pretty drunk, so I’d loaded her into a cab and told her to go home. They think he
was lying in wait, and that she was attacked as soon as she entered our room, and that I was the intended victim.”
Closing her other hand into a fist, she smashed it against the side of her leg. “I was so selfish. I should have gone with her, but I wanted to keep partying with Carolyn and Angel. I will never forgive myself for not taking her home that night.”
Dominic dropped his arm from her waist and moved in front of her. Hunching down, he grabbed her fist in one hand and took her other hand in his own. “Stephanie, you didn’t know what was going to happen. It’s not your fault.”
“I should have known something bad was going to occur,” she whispered, shaking her head furiously. “I should have known.”
“How? How could you have known? You’re not a mind reader.”
“I should have, because every time something good happens to me, every time I feel at peace with the world, it all goes to hell.” Her eyes glistened with tears. She reached out to touch his face, trailing her fingers down his jawline. “It’s why I should walk away from you. I know, sooner or later, something goddamn awful is going to happen, and my life will be blown to smithereens again. I don’t think I could deal with it if something happened to you. I’m not sure I could survive it.”
“Darlin’, I’m not going anywhere,” he said huskily, slowly moving to hook his arm around the back of her neck and cover her mouth with his own.
She broke the brief kiss, whispering softly, “You don’t know everything yet. You can’t say that until you know every sordid detail.”
Dominic realized she expected him to walk away from her. She believed that once she’d told him about her life, he would find her too damaged to love. She honestly believed that her scars and demons meant she didn’t deserve to be loved, or to love anyone back.
“Then tell me everything,” he challenged as he rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms. “Tell me what happened that night.”
Stephanie shifted her gaze from his, her hands gripping the sides of the headstone she was sitting on. “I walked in on him as he was . . .” She broke off, stuffing one of her fists into her mouth.
Dominic reached out and touched her knee. “Stephanie, you don’t have—”
“No, I want to.” She hiccupped, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he stroked her back gently, feeling her body tensing and then relaxing, even as she fought for control.
Stephanie breathed deeply, struggling to regain her composure. Closing her eyes, she squeezed them tightly. She could still feel the horror and the terror seeping through her pores. She’d walked into her bedroom, and the first thing she had seen was blood. It had been everywhere, and Katrina had been barely alive. He had brutalized her in every way possible and was just standing there, watching her die, a look of morbid fascination carved onto his face.
She could remember her heart almost stopping completely when he turned and saw her. The smile on his face had been of genuine pleasure, and he’d breathed her name. There had almost been a reverence in his voice as he walked towards her. He’d still been holding the bloody knife. While she couldn’t remember his face, she would never forget his eyes.
Lifting her face from Dominic’s chest, she grasped his T-shirt in her fist. “His eyes, Dominic, they were dead. It was like looking into the eyes of someone without a soul. I was so scared. I couldn’t move, and it was only when he touched me that I snapped out of it and realized I needed to get away from him.”
Breaking off, she looked at him without really seeing him, lost completely in her own terror. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she thought back to that night. She’d run for the door, but he’d caught her before she could reach it. He’d yanked her back, pushing her on to the bed where Katrina was lying, her breaths shallow as her life faded away.
“He knew me,” she choked out. “He knew my name. He knew who I was.” She stood up abruptly and began to pace restlessly. “He grabbed my arm. He pushed me, and I fell back onto the bed. He ripped my shirt. He tore my clothes. I fought back, and it excited the hell out of him. The more I bit, punched and kicked him, the more excited it made him. I knew if I let him do what the hell he wanted, I’d end up like Katrina, so I fought him off. I managed to get him off me, and we struggled. I grabbed the knife from him . . . I grabbed the blade, and refused to let go. Somehow, I got it away from him, and then I stabbed him with his own knife. I didn’t even know I was bleeding . . . I was so filled with adrenaline and terror.”
Swinging back to look at Dominic, her face was ashen white. “I stabbed him in the leg with his own knife and twisted the blade, hard. I wanted to hurt the son of a bitch as well as immobilize him. Then I dropped the blade and ran. I ran, and I didn’t look back. I could hear him screaming my name, but I didn’t care. I just keep going.”
Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, a shudder rippled through her. “I ran from the sorority house and ran to the next sorority, and then the next. I pounded on every damn door. I begged and screamed, and eventually someone opened their door, and I collapsed.”
Stopping, she took a deep breath. Wiping frantically at the tears sliding down her face, she said quietly, “Katrina’s homicide was a major screw up, right from the beginning. The campus police didn’t know what to do, and the LAPD saw me as a hysterical, irrational girl. They made me sit with sketch artist after sketch artist, but I just couldn’t remember his face. My doctors told them I was in shock, and it would eventually come back to me. All I ever remember are his eyes. Those I will never forget.”
“Stephanie . . .” Dominic stood and reached out to her.
She took a step back, swallowing hard. “He knew me, Dominic. He knew who I was. He knew who we all were. I should have paid attention. I should have known. I should have known that the hang ups weren’t pranks by our boyfriends. I should have known when personal items and mementos went missing that this wasn’t some harmless prank by college frat boys. It was serious. Christ, we all should have taken him seriously.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Dominic said, pain lacing through him at what she’d gone through.
“I should have,” she repeated, swallowing hard.
Dominic reached out to take her hand, drawing her to him. He held her close, stroking her back. “You survived a horrible crime, Stephanie. You lost someone special, and it scarred you deeply, but it’s over now. You need to find it within yourself to move on, and I want to be the one you move on with. I want to be with you every step of the way.” He pressed his face into her hair.
Stephanie froze at his words, gently extracting herself from his embrace. Her eyes flashed with pain. “But, it’s not over. It will never be over.”
“What do you mean it’s not over?” he asked cautiously, studying her ashen expression.
“He told me, Dominic. As I was running away from him, he screamed at me that it wasn’t over. He told me that there’s nowhere for me to run or hide. I’m his. He told me I was the ultimate prize. I think the son of a bitch always knew who I was. I think that’s one of the reasons he started stalking us in the first place. And he won’t stop until he has me. I don’t know why he killed Katrina. I don’t know if I was even supposed to be his intended victim, or if maybe he planned on killing all of us.”
She swallowed painfully, her heart thundering within her chest. “He used to send me sterling silver roses. That was his signature flower. The sick bastard knew enough about me to understand the significance of it.”
Flicking her hand towards her parents’ headstones, she said quietly, “My mother’s favorite flower is the sterling silver rose. I remember her buying them and putting them all throughout the house. I smell their aroma, and it reminds me of her, but I also remember the Jesus Christ Killer placing a sterling silver rose on her dead body.”
“Jesus, Stephanie,” Dominic breathed.
She cleared her throat, giving him a cold smile. “He’s not done. He’s killing still. He’s killed girls in San Diego, in
Texas . . .”
“Stephanie, you don’t know that for sure,” Dominic said quietly, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and shifting uneasily.
“Yes, Dominic, I do know that. After Katrina was murdered, I created my own profile of him. I’ve studied the bastard. I’ve made it my mission to study him as intently as he studied me. He’s in no way finished with me, so I want to be ready for him.”
“What makes you think he will come back for you?”
“I told you, I’m the ultimate prize,” she spat out, shaking her head in anger. “Isn’t that enough?”
“You’re not telling me everything,” he drawled, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes. “If we’re going to have a relationship, you need to be open with me.”
“You want open? Fine,” she said, a mixture of grief and fury flooding through her. Taking a step towards him, her fists clenched in fury. “I know he’s not done with me because he’s already made contact again. He left me a sterling silver rose. Remember the night I came to the bar, shaken up? It was because I found a sterling silver rose on my car’s windscreen shield. The bastard followed me to Santa Monica Pier and left his signature.”
Dropping her gaze to the ground, she fought for control. “He’s not done, Dominic. He never will be. Eventually we will face off, and one of us will walk away from it. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but sooner or later it’s going to happen, and I’m going to be ready for him. And God help anyone who gets in his way.”
Lifting her head, she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the mausoleum behind him. “So, now you know everything. Still want a relationship with me?”
“Yes,” Dominic growled, reaching out and snaking his arm around her waist. Brushing his lips against her forehead, he whispered again, “Yes.”
Stephanie tilted her head up to look at him. Searching his face for any doubt, she relaxed against him when she saw compassion instead. She hadn’t realized until now that she’d been holding her breath in, unsure of how he would react. All she’d known for certain was that she didn’t want his pity.
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