Chapter 1 - The Predator in the Parking Garage and the Monster in the Shadows
He did not bring her flowers.
He brought zip ties and a desperate, frantic look in his eyes.
When Tessa’s ex stepped out from behind a concrete pillar in the parking garage, she understood immediately that nobody was coming to save her. It was 3:00 in the morning. The security cameras did not cover that corner. She was completely alone.
At least, that was what she believed.
She had no idea that the most dangerous man in the city was sitting in an idling black town car only a short distance away.
At 2:45 a.m., the digital clock on the front desk monitor changed numbers.
Tessa stared at the glowing display until it blurred.
Her lower back ached with a dull, persistent throb that had begun around midnight. The lobby of the Grand Oak Haven was almost completely silent except for the mechanical hum of the central heating system and the steady rain striking the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The hotel was expensive enough to make ordinary people feel as though they had entered another world. Marble floors cost more than Tessa earned in a year. Brass fixtures were polished daily. Everything suggested security, permanence, and the expectation that the people inside deserved to be comfortable.
Tessa had not felt safe for 4 months.
Her phone vibrated inside her blazer pocket.
She did not need to look to know who had sent the messages.
Keeping the phone below the desk, she unlocked the cracked screen.
3 new messages from an unknown number appeared.
“I know you get off at 3.”
“Why are you doing this to us, Tess?”
“Answer me, please.”
Tessa held the power button until the screen went black and returned the phone to her pocket.
A familiar pressure settled beneath her sternum.
Dean.
It had been 92 days since she packed 2 suitcases while he was at a bar and disappeared.
92 days since she changed her telephone number, moved into a cramped apartment on the other side of the city, and began checking over her shoulder every time she entered a hallway.
None of it had worked.
Dean had found her workplace 2 weeks earlier.
He had not entered the hotel.
He had simply stood across the street in the rain, staring at the revolving doors.
The police had done little.
He had not actually threatened her, they said.
A restraining order was only a piece of paper.
She should call if he did something.
Tessa rubbed a hand over her face.
She was exhausted in a way sleep no longer seemed capable of fixing.
She did not want drama.
She did not want a tragic ending or some grand romance.
She wanted to go home to her poor apartment, eat cold cereal, and sleep for 8 hours without waking in a sweat.
“You look like hell.”
Tessa looked up.
Sam, the night auditor, stood at the end of the counter holding a stack of receipts.
He was 60, balding, and sustained by nicotine and indifference.
“Thanks, Sam,” Tessa said hoarsely. “Exactly what a girl wants to hear.”
He dropped the receipts into the inbox tray.
“Shift’s almost over. Want me to walk you to your car? It’s pouring.”
For a moment, Tessa wanted to say yes.
Then another part of her resisted.
Dean had already changed too much about her life.
If she needed an escort simply to reach her car, it felt as though he had taken another piece of it.
Besides, Sam had a bad knee.
If Dean appeared, Sam would only get hurt.
“I’m fine,” Tessa said, forcing a smile. “I parked on the second level today. It’s well lit.”
Sam grunted.
Then he glanced toward the private elevators.
“Good. Costa’s people are all over the VIP floor tonight. Best not to get in their way.”
Tessa followed his glance.
Gabriel Costa.
He owned the penthouse suite.
He owned a large portion of the financial district.
If the rumors among the hotel staff were even partly accurate, he also controlled a substantial portion of the city’s underground economy.
Tessa had seen him only twice.
Both times he had crossed the lobby surrounded by men in expensive suits.
He was tall, dressed in charcoal wool, with dark hair and a face that seemed carved from granite.
He had never looked at her.
He did not appear to look at anything that did not matter.
“I don’t go near the VIP wing,” she said.
“Just saying,” Sam replied. “Men like that carry a different kind of weather. Best to stay out of the rain.”
At exactly 3:00 a.m., Tessa logged out.
She retrieved her oversized wool coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and entered the employee corridor.
The luxury disappeared immediately.
Plush carpet became worn linoleum.
Warm lighting became fluorescent glare.
Tessa walked quickly.
She held her keys in her right hand with 3 of them protruding between her knuckles.
She knew it was a poor weapon.
She knew it would not stop a man twice her size.
Still, the metal edges biting into her palm gave her something physical to concentrate on.
She reached the heavy fire door leading into the parking structure and pushed it open.
Cold air struck her.
The garage smelled of damp concrete, old motor oil, and wet metal.
Rain blew through the structural openings and collected in shallow pools on the sloping floor.
The door closed behind her.
She was alone.
Tessa began walking toward level 2, section C.
Her boots clicked against the concrete.
The sound echoed between the pillars.
She hated parking garages.
They were places people passed through.
Nobody stayed unless they had a reason.
Shadows gathered between the parked vehicles.
Tessa rounded the corner and saw her faded blue sedan near the wall.
She exhaled.
Only about 30 ft remained.
She pressed the unlock button.
The headlights flashed.
She reached the driver’s door.
“You didn’t answer my texts.”
The voice came from behind her.
Tessa froze.
Her keys shifted in her sweating hand and cut her finger.
She could not turn around.
“Turn around, Tess.”
Dean.
His voice was quiet and wounded, the tone he often used immediately before becoming violent.
Tessa closed her eyes, breathed once, and turned.
He stood about 6 ft away, emerging from behind a support pillar.
He looked worse than she remembered.
Dean had once been handsome in the rough, careless way that made bartenders forgive him and police officers issue warnings instead of tickets.
Now his hair was greasy and damp.
His jacket was wrinkled.
His jeans were stained.
His eyes frightened her most.
They were wide, red-rimmed, and frantic.
“Dean,” Tessa said. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
He stepped toward her.
Tessa stepped backward until her spine touched the cold side of her car.
“You can’t be here.”
“Where else am I supposed to be?”
His voice suddenly rose.
The sound bounced through the garage.
Tessa flinched.
Dean smiled.
“Look at you. Jumping at shadows. I used to keep you safe. Remember? You used to sleep when you were with me.”
“I left because I was afraid of you.”
He moved closer.
“You left because you’re weak. You don’t know how to handle real love. You think you’re better than me now because you work at this hotel?”
“Please let me get into my car. Go home.”
“I don’t have a home.”
He shouted that she had taken everything from him.
His friends no longer spoke to him.
He had lost his job.
He could not concentrate because of her.
It was the same pattern Tessa knew too well.
Nothing was Dean’s fault.
Not the plate he threw into a wall.
Not the time he shoved her down the hallway stairs.
She had always made him do it.
Tessa tightened her grip on the keys.
She measured the distance to the stairwell.
About 50 ft.
She would never reach it.
Dean had run track in college.
The security desk was 2 levels below.
No camera covered this section.
“I’m sorry you lost your job,” Tessa said carefully, using the calm voice she used with angry hotel guests. “But that has nothing to do with me. We’re finished.”
“It isn’t over until I say it is.”
Dean lunged.
Tessa tried to move around the front of the car.
He caught her.
His body slammed hers into the side of the sedan.
Her head struck the window.
Pain flashed through her neck.
“Dean, stop.”
She raised the hand holding the keys.
He caught her wrist.
His grip crushed down until her fingers opened.
The keys dropped to the wet floor.
“Scream and I’ll break your jaw,” he whispered.
Tessa stopped struggling.
Her body shifted from resistance into paralysis.
Dean was larger.
Stronger.
He could kill her there.
Nobody would discover her until the next shift began around 6:00 a.m.
“There,” Dean murmured. “There’s my good girl. You just need to listen.”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head backward.
Tessa whimpered.
“I bought zip ties,” he said conversationally. “They’re in my pocket. I thought we could go for a drive. Out to the lake. We’ll talk where nobody interrupts us. We stay there until you understand you belong to me.”
Tessa felt her stomach drop.
The lake was 2 hours away.
If he got her into a vehicle, she believed she would die.
“Dean, no.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“Please.”
“I have to,” he said. “You didn’t leave me a choice.”
He reached inside his jacket.
Tessa decided she would scream.
She no longer cared if he broke her jaw.
She inhaled.
Then she heard a click.
A heavy car door closing.
Dean stopped.
Tessa looked toward the far end of the row.
A black town car sat idling in the shadows with its headlights off.
A man stood beside the driver’s-side door.
He wore a long dark overcoat.
His hands rested in his pockets.
He did not run toward them.
He did not shout.
He simply watched.
Dean loosened his grip slightly.
“Hey,” he called. “Mind your own business. This is private.”
The man did not answer.
He began walking.
His footsteps were almost silent.
The fluorescent bulb overhead flickered once.
May you like
Light caught his sharp cheekbones and the dark, pitiless depth of his eyes.
Gabriel Costa.
