by Susan Stoker
He popped out of the driver’s seat and jogged toward her. “I’m so sorry!” he said, leaning down to peer inside her car. “I’ve got insurance! If you want to pull over into that parking lot”—he pointed to a strip mall to the right of where they were—“we can exchange info. Again, I’m really sorry, I looked away to turn down my music and misjudged where you were.”
Sighing, Taylor nodded, and when the light turned green, she pulled into the right lane and into the strip mall.
Looking around, she saw there were several people in the area. She wasn’t in any danger where she was. She got out of her Kia Rio and looked at the damage.
Crap. Her back bumper was barely hanging on to the metal frame. She saw the Cadillac pull in behind her and noticed that it had a scrape on the front bumper, but she honestly couldn’t say if that was from hitting her or if it had already been there.
The man once more jumped out and came over to her. “I really am sorry,” he said with a headshake. “I feel horrible. Especially since my car doesn’t even have a scratch.”
“That’s not from hitting me?” Taylor asked, pointing to the slight damage on his front bumper.
He winced. “No. This is my mother’s car, and she did that not too long ago. I swear this car is bad luck. I only took it out today because mine’s in the shop. I should’ve stayed home.”
Taylor felt bad for the guy. He looked completely dejected. “It’s okay. I’m sure the damage isn’t as bad as it looks. Bumpers are meant to do that. I mean, their entire purpose is to take an impact, isn’t it?”
The man brightened. “Yeah, I guess so. If you give me your insurance information, I’ll call them this afternoon and make this right.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Taylor asked.
“We could,” the man agreed. “And you have every right to do that. But I’d really appreciate it if we just took care of this between the two of us. I’ve got a bit of a lead foot . . . I really need to learn to just slow down, and I have enough points on my license that if I get cited for this, I’m going to lose it for sure. My mom’s sick, so I’m the only one she has to drive her to her doctor’s appointments.”
Taylor knew the man was laying on the guilt, but she had to admit it was working. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks. Oh, by the way, I’m Thanatos.”
“Excuse me?” Taylor asked.
“That’s my name. Thanatos. But I go by Than, because it’s less of a mouthful.”
Taylor gave him a small smile. “I’m Taylor.”
“It’s good to meet you, Taylor, but of course not under these circumstances. I’m serious, if you give me your info, I’ll call your insurance company and get this taken care of for you. I’d just give you cash to keep it off my insurance, but I don’t have it. The cost of my mom’s medicine is kicking my butt. But I swear I’m all paid up on my insurance.”
Sighing, Taylor nodded. “Okay. Give me a second.” She walked to the passenger side of her car and opened the door. Than was beginning to irritate her. He was laying on the sob story really thick. Taylor leaned over to dig in the glove box to find her paperwork. At this point, she just wanted to get out of there.
After finding what she’d been looking for, she stood and turned—gasping when she almost ran into Than. He was standing about two feet from her car.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Taylor wished she was better at reading facial expressions. She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not, and his tone was no help either. She sidestepped to get out from between him and her car. “Do you have a piece of paper I can write my info on?” she asked.
“Oh, I can just take a picture of it—that’ll be easier,” Than said, holding out a hand for her insurance info.
Taylor hesitated for a second, then handed it over. He quickly snapped a picture with his cell phone and handed the paper back.
“I’ll call first thing tomorrow,” he told her. “I’ll make everything right.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Did I make you late for anything?” he asked.
Taylor felt a little awkward now. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to make small talk with the guy who’d run into her, but she didn’t want to be impolite either. “I’m on my way to my friend’s place,” she told him. Then lied and said, “My boyfriend.” Maybe if Than knew she was dating someone, he’d back off a bit.
“Oh, well, I’m really sorry I ran into you. I hope he won’t be mad.”
It was a weird thing to say. “He won’t. I mean, these things happen,” Taylor said with a shrug.
“I appreciate you being so easygoing about it. You’ve got a good temperament,” Than observed.
“Thanks,” Taylor replied, feeling more and more uneasy.
“Dang, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” Than said astutely, taking a step back.
“It’s fine,” Taylor said.
“Your boyfriend isn’t a big ol’ bodybuilder who will track me down and beat the crap out of me, is he?”
Taylor smiled at that. “No. He actually works at Silverstone Towing, so I’m sure he’ll know someone who I can bring my car to so it can be fixed sooner rather than later.”
“Ah, that’s good, then. You can’t trust anyone these days.”
Taylor nodded.
“With that, I’m going to let you get going. I’ll be sure to be more careful from here on out. Someone else wouldn’t have been as forgiving as you, Taylor.”
Than gave her a polite nod, then turned and walked back to his Cadillac. She walked around the front of her Kia and nodded back as he pulled out from behind her and went on his way.
After he was gone, Taylor realized she should’ve written down his license plate number . . . or at least gotten his full name and number, so she could check back with him if she didn’t hear anything from her insurance company. Sighing, and just relieved the entire encounter was done, she got back into her car.
She was going to call Eagle and let him know what happened, but figured she’d see him in ten minutes or so anyway. Besides, there wasn’t anything he could do at this point. Her car was drivable, and she wasn’t hurt.
Taylor arrived at Eagle’s apartment complex and went into the lobby. A man was standing there, and as she walked toward him, he said, “Hey, Flower.”
Surprised but pleased to see Eagle in the lobby, she smiled. “Hey.”
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“You should’ve been here about fifteen minutes ago. I was worried. I texted but didn’t get a response.”
Taylor was surprised. He steered her toward the stairwell as they talked. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t hear your text, otherwise I would’ve answered. And I’m late because someone hit me from behind when I was at a stoplight.”
They’d just reached the second-floor landing when Eagle stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“Someone hit me—”
“I heard you,” he interrupted. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Shit, Taylor. Why didn’t you call me?”
Taylor frowned. “Because it was just a fender bender. It wasn’t a huge deal.”
“Come on, I’m not talking about this in the stairwell,” Eagle said and grabbed her hand, practically dragging her down the hallway toward his apartment.
She wanted to point out that she wasn’t the one who’d stopped and insisted on discussing why she was late before they’d even gotten inside his place. But she kept her mouth shut as he unlocked his door and gestured for her to precede him inside.
Feeling a little irritated at his reaction—and his assumption she couldn’t deal with a fender bender—Taylor did her best to control her temper.
The second the door shut behind him, Eagle spoke. “Are you sure you’re all right? Does your neck hurt? Do we need to go to the emergency room? What happened? Did you get a
police report?”
Taylor held up a hand. “One question at a time, jeez,” she said in what she hoped was a light tone. “I’m fine. My neck will probably be a bit sore tomorrow, but it’s nothing a few aspirins won’t fix. I wasn’t moving, and the guy was only going probably ten miles an hour, if that. As I said, I was sitting at a red light, and he ran into me with his big boat of a Cadillac. We pulled off the road, and he got my insurance info, since there wasn’t any damage to his car.”
Eagle stared at her for a second, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“What?” Taylor asked.
“You know that men do that shit to get their hands on women, right?”
Taylor felt her frustration rising. “What was I supposed to do, Eagle? Ignore the accident? That’s against the law. Besides, we weren’t in the middle of nowhere. There were plenty of people and businesses around.”
“Give me his info, and I’ll check him out,” Eagle said, holding out his hand.
Taylor crossed her arms. She felt defensive that he was being so over-the-top obnoxious about a simple accident. “I don’t have it.”
“What? Why not? Isn’t it on the police report?”
“There is no police report because we didn’t call them. My car wasn’t that damaged, just the bumper. It’s gonna need to be replaced. He took my insurance info and said he would call them and get it taken care of. I didn’t need to get his information.”
“For God’s sake!” Eagle exploded, turning his back on her and striding farther into his apartment.
Taylor followed slowly, watching as he paced back and forth. When he turned to face her, she braced herself.
“Did you even get his name?”
“Yes,” she told him. “It was Thanatos. He goes by Than for short.”
“What’s his last name?”
She paused.
“Shit! You don’t know it, do you? Thanatos could even be a made-up name. It’s too stupid to be real,” Eagle said in disgust. “Jesus, Taylor, he’s not going to call your insurance company—and you handed over your info to a complete stranger without a second thought. Was your address on your paperwork?”
Now Taylor felt stupid . . . and she didn’t like Eagle making her feel even worse than she already did. She pressed her lips together.
“And you can’t recognize him if you saw him again,” Eagle went on. “He’s probably laughing his ass off right about now. Thrilled he hit someone so gullible she didn’t even call the police. And he could walk right up to your apartment, since you gave him your address, and you wouldn’t know it was him. He could hurt you or rob you blind, and you’d never be able to tell the police anything! God, how could you have been so stupid?”
The pain of his words took a second to register. And when they did, Taylor wanted to throw up.
For the first time since she’d met him, Eagle had made her feel like less of a person. He’d thrown her condition in her face and made her feel about two feet tall. And it hurt all the more because she’d been convinced he was her friend. That he would never judge her, no matter what.
Once more, she’d opened herself up in the hope that this time, things would be different, only to be reminded that her prosopagnosia would always make her an outcast. Someone to be ridiculed, made to feel like a pariah.
Knowing if she tried to say anything, she’d burst out crying, Taylor turned on her heel and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Eagle asked.
Taylor didn’t answer, simply opened his door and started to step out into the hall.
Eagle stopped her by taking hold of her arm. “Taylor? We aren’t done talking about this.”
And that pissed her off enough for her to push back her sorrow, anger rising swiftly. “We weren’t talking. You were. I get it, Eagle, I’m stupid. Not only that, I’m apparently going to get murdered in my bed because I won’t know a bad guy until it’s too late. Thanks for your vote of confidence and letting me know how you really feel.” She yanked her arm out of his grip and took a few steps into the hallway, then abruptly turned back around.
“I thought you were different. That you saw me. But you’re just like everyone else—you can’t see past my condition. Well, I might not be able to recognize faces, but I know an asshole when I see one!”
And with that parting shot, Taylor turned again and walked as fast as she could without running down the hall.
But her heart broke when she got to the stairwell . . . and he hadn’t come after her.
The door closed behind her, and the first tear fell.
Eagle had just broken her heart, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over it. Over him.
Eagle stared at his closed door, adrenaline still pumping, and ran a hand through his hair.
What had just happened?
When he’d heard Taylor had been in an accident, he’d almost lost it. He hated that he hadn’t been there, that she hadn’t called him.
He barely remembered what he’d said, but he’d never forget her words to him.
He had been an asshole, but he’d been so worried about her. He’d seen too many crime scene photos of the aftermath of women not being smart about their safety. Pictures of mutilated and tortured women who’d trusted the wrong person. And the thought of Taylor ending up like that had made him lose his mind.
He needed to go after her, apologize, try to explain, but if he chased her down now, she wouldn’t listen. Not that he could blame her.
“Fuck!” he swore, feeling sick inside. He’d fucked up. Big time. Now might not be the best time to talk to her, but he couldn’t wait until tomorrow to say he was sorry.
He strode over to the kitchen counter, where he’d left his phone after he’d texted Taylor earlier, and picked it up.
He quickly typed out a text. He’d meant for it to be short, but once he started typing, he couldn’t stop. There were errors throughout his apology, but he didn’t bother to correct them.
Eagle: I’m sorry. I didnt mean anyting the way it sounded. I was worrid about you. I obviously did a shit job of letting you know that. I shouldve hugged you and said I was glad you were all rigt. You arent stupid. Shit, you’re smarter than anyone I know. I’m the stupid one. Please, forgive me, let me mke this right. I see you, flower, and the person I see is the strongest person I know. I AM an asshole. Please let me know you got home safely.
He hit send and closed his eyes. He literally felt sick to his stomach. He knew Taylor’s past. Knew how she felt about being belittled because of her condition, and he’d gone and done just that. In his defense, he’d been freaked out and worried, but that certainly wasn’t the impression he’d given.
He went back to pacing. What if she refused to talk to him again? What if she decided she didn’t want him in her life at all?
Eagle wasn’t normally a man to panic. His experience as a Delta had pretty much beaten that emotion out of him—but he was panicking now.
He needed Taylor in his life. Couldn’t imagine not talking to her every day.
Somehow he had to make this right, but at the moment, he didn’t know how.
“Shit!” he yelled and slumped into one of his recliners. He held on to his phone with a tight grip and prayed she’d text him back soon and let him know she was home.
Brett sat in his basement and stared at the picture of Taylor Cardin’s insurance information. He’d had so much fun this evening. He chuckled at the name he’d given her. Thanatos. She probably had no idea that it meant “he who brings death.” Brett figured it was appropriate.
It was time to step up his game.
He had a lot more “random” encounters in mind for his Taylor.
He definitely wasn’t happy that she had a boyfriend. That would make things a bit tougher for him. He’d assumed no one would notice when she disappeared. That he’d have plenty of time to play with her, then bury her body in one of the many state parks around Indiana. But if the guy she was seeing filed a missing person report, it could drastica
lly cut into his time to do everything he wanted.
No. Fuck that.
Taylor was his.
No one would know he’d had anything to do with her. She wouldn’t be able to describe him to her boyfriend. He’d seen her with a man once or twice, but for some idiotic reason, he’d never suspected they were dating. He’d just have to be more careful, make sure he was never seen by the man and that his interactions with Taylor were strictly when she was by herself.
Brett would be fine.
He knew there wouldn’t be a problem this weekend when he showed up at the Dementia Senior Care Center that she visited every Sunday. She was always alone. She stayed for three hours, then left. He’d already visited the disgusting place himself earlier that week and gotten the lay of the land.
It was just another step in messing with little Taylor’s head. He couldn’t wait, once she was in his clutches, to let her know all the times their paths had crossed.
Looking behind him at the cot he’d set up for her, Brett smiled. He could picture Taylor there in his shackles. She’d cry and beg for him to let her go—they all did—and he’d let her think that was his plan, but there was no way she was going anywhere.
He could almost feel his hands wrapped around her neck, her breaths stopping. Her eyes would bug out as he choked her—she’d thrash under him, but she wouldn’t be able to escape. He’d choke the life out of her—then breathe it right back in. Make sure she realized he had complete and full control. She’d be terrified . . . and it would be delicious.
Brett’s dick hardened. He stood from his desk and went over to the cot to lie down. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock, turning his head to look at his pictures as he masturbated. The eleven faces of the other women he’d played with looked back at him from the wall. Soon, he’d have lucky number twelve. Taylor. She’d know what was in store for her when she saw those pictures, and he’d revel in her fright.
He got off on the terror his guests experienced. He decided how long they would live and when they would die. Nothing was better than having that control. He had none in his real life, so he’d take it here in his basement world.