I was falling in love with you.
She wanted to believe those words. With all of her being, she wanted them to be true, but if he’d really loved her, would War have just let her go? Would he have lied to her this time about the forty-eight hours?
But as she considered the situation, Rose realized he hadn’t said that he loved her. War had said—when they’d been together before—that he was falling in love with her. Falling was different. It wasn’t the same thing as saying I love you. Was it?
She spun away from the door—the better to stop the temptation to yank it open and throw herself onto the couch and him. She stripped off her shirt. Kicked away her shoes. Shimmied out of the jeans and figured that even though she was bone tired, an icy shower just might do the trick—
A ringing stopped her. Froze her in place.
Her phone. It was in the heap of clothes she’d just carelessly tossed away. Her phone had been shoved in her back pocket. She bent, rummaged for it. As soon as she saw the screen— “War!”
The bedroom door flew back and slammed into the wall. He stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly touching the frame, and his hands were fisted at his sides.
The phone rang again.
“I don’t know the number,” she said quickly. “This late—I think it’s him!”
War rushed forward. “Put it on speaker. Answer him. Keep him talking as long as you can.”
She knew she was supposed to keep the caller talking. The cops were monitoring her phone. War had pulled out his own phone and was firing off a text. Rose figured the text was either to Odin or Lynn or maybe to them both.
Her phone rang again.
He nodded.
Rose slid her finger over her phone’s screen. Made sure to turn on the speaker option. “Hello?”
“He won’t keep you from me.” A low rasp.
Her spine straightened. “You’re going to be locked away. You aren’t going to hurt me or anyone else again.”
“I enjoyed our time at the motel.” Again, little more than a rasp. He was disguising his voice. Using one of those apps that anyone could download with the click of a button or just doing it old-school style.
“I can’t say the same,” Rose fired back. “My dream date doesn’t involve some creep trying to strangle me with a bathroom towel. I’m more of a candlelight and champagne kind of woman.”
“Is that what he gives you?”
Her gaze locked with War’s. “He?” she repeated.
“I know he’s there. So eager to run back to you. He thinks he can stop what’s coming. He can’t. I will have you.”
“You aren’t going to have anything but a life sentence behind bars. We know it’s you, Dylan. You’re making mistake after mistake after—”
He hung up.
She was almost crushing the phone. She immediately tried to call the number back. It just rang and rang. Exhaling slowly, she forced her fingers to ease their death grip on the phone. “Do you think they got him?”
War had his phone at his ear. His expression was so tense. So hard.
“Put it on speaker!” She wanted to hear everything that was said.
He jerked his head in a nod and lowered the phone. He hit the option for speaker and—
“You’re sure that was him?” Lynn asked.
“Yes!” Rose said before War could reply. “He used the same rasping voice that he always uses. He said he had a great time with me at the motel—when he was trying to kill me. That was him! That was the killer!”
War’s gaze shot to her. Dropped to her body. Whipped right back up.
Oh, right. Standing here in my underwear. She’d forgotten all about that. Other things had kinda taken precedence. Like talking to a killer.
“We got the call.” Lynn’s voice was stilted. “I have uniforms on the way now, and…you’re not gonna like this.”
What about this nightmare did she like?
“The call originated near your building.”
Rose could feel the blood draining from her head.
“Stay inside,” the detective ordered. “Lock the doors. Do not leave until you hear from me again.”
A shiver slid over her.
“And—it’s not Dylan.”
What? Rose shook her head. “I didn’t understand you.” But she was afraid she had understood Lynn. Repeat it, just in case.
“I’m staring at Dylan Nelson.”
Rose lunged for War’s phone. “He just called me!”
“No, no, he did not. I still have him in an interrogation room. He is sitting at a table right now. I’m on the other side of the one-way mirror, and I can see him perfectly. Whoever called you—it was not Dylan Nelson.”
A shudder worked over Rose’s body. “That’s not possible.”
“I can assure you, it is possible. And holding him longer—not an option. His lawyer will use this development to get him out. He can’t be in my interrogation room and be calling you at the same time. He’s not the one we’re after. He might be a sleaze, but it doesn’t look like he’s the killer.” A rough exhale. “Uniforms are on the way, and I’m heading over, too. You stay where you are. Do not leave your condo. You got me?”
Yes, she got the detective. “I won’t leave.”
The detective hung up.
Another shiver slid over Rose’s body. Maybe it wasn’t just from fear. Maybe it was from the fact that she was standing there, only in her underwear, and she needed to get clothes on because War’s hot stare was raking over her.
He tossed the phone onto the bed.
Rose tensed.
But he just strode for the bathroom. He came back out holding the pale blue, silk robe that she kept on the hook behind her bathroom door. “Here.” He held it open for her.
She inched closer to him. Slipped it on. “Thank you.”
He backed away. A big, giant step back. “He’s not going to be there.”
She turned to face him as she belted the robe.
“When they follow the signal, he’ll be gone. Maybe he’ll have left the phone somewhere close by. A little taunt for them and us. But no way the guy just sits like a good boy and waits for the cops to arrive.” Utter certainty.
Unfortunately, she thought he was right. “How can it not be Dylan?”
A muscle flexed in his jaw.
“My stomach is in knots,” Rose confessed. Her hand lifted to press to her throat. Oddly, she could have sworn the skin started to ache as she got the call. It didn’t, of course. I just remembered everything—
His voice whispered through her mind. I had a great time at the motel.
War’s gaze zeroed in on her neck. “It’s bruised.” He inched back toward her. Lifted his hand. His fingers skimmed lightly over her skin.
Another shiver shook her body. This one had nothing to do with the cold or with fear. As his fingers slipped over, Rose found her head tipping back. He leaned toward her. His mouth pressed to her throat. To the faint marks there. A tender, careful kiss. One. Then another. Another…
He pulled back. “Shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.” Curt. “I’ll stay in the den. I want to do a perimeter check to make sure all of the doors are locked. You are safe, Rose. Know that.” He spun and walked away.