Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance(120)



“Uncle . . . oh, it was so horrible!” I said, my voice still sounding slightly separated from my body. I felt like a little girl again, telling him about the monster under my bed or something. “There was so much blood!”

“I know,” he replied, taking my hand in his. “I seen a little of the crime scene, the police didn’t tell me they had brought you here until after I arrived. Tell me exactly what you saw.”

I recounted my memory, starting with the APE and ending with my seeing Angela's body. It didn't take long, after all until seeing the open window, everything had been a boring yet normal late summer day. I had just taken the last of my first sessions for the semester, and had been looking forward to a good year. The only dark mark was Vincent Drake in the background, but I hadn't seen or heard from him at all that day.

I finished my recollection, waiting while Uncle Carlo sat back, nodding to himself. It’s one of the things that makes him good at what he does, in my opinion. Regardless of how much of a storm he might be feeling emotionally, when it came time to make a decision, he forced himself to step back, setting his feelings aside for the moment. “There were things you didn’t see,” he finally said, sitting forward. “The police haven’t told me much, only what I was able to see quickly when I came to take you to the hospital, but I did overhear some things. Those fools never could keep their damn mouths shut.”

“What did I miss?” I asked, starting to tremble. “Was it bad?”

He nodded. “The killer, it’s most likely Vincent Drake. Tell me what you know about him.”

I sighed, regretting limiting my actions to just a restraining order. Uncle Carlo had been right the first time. “I took Drake's class last fall semester, he was teaching Conceptual Sculpting. He always wore these cheap suits, the kind that you'd get at a Goodwill or something, and they always looked like they were about ten years out of date on his frame. I swear he bought himself a six pack of discount suits when he was thirty, and twenty years later he was still working his way through them, waiting for the seams to give out or something.”

Uncle Carlo chuckled at my description. “That’s one of the things I love about you, Adriana. You always have been a born artist, with such great descriptions of people and things. Tell me about your relationship with him.”

“What relationship? The guy was a loser from day one, I hated the course,” I protested, a bit of my natural temper flaring up. I come from Sicilian and Scottish roots, so me not having a temper would have been a miracle. When he gave me a look, I sighed, and fell back into my recollections. “For the first few classes, things were normal. He was creepy, but nothing I haven't had to handle before. It wasn't until the midterm project, where he started to really focus on me. The sculpture I did wasn't the best, in my opinion, but it was special to me because I tried to carve Dad as if he'd survived all the years to now. I'd poured my heart into it, and planned on giving it to Mom for her birthday, before all this started and ruined it for me. For some reason Vincent really took to it, and he started obsessing over me.”

“Eventually I filed a sexual harassment complaint against him with the school, but they did nothing, saying it wasn't enough to do anything against a tenured professor. They just warned him, and told me to stay away.”

“Adriana, why did you put so much trust in these incompetent fools? Have I not shown you how useless they are?”

“You have, and I don't know why,” I said. “I guess . . . I guess because I know what you would’ve done. He has a family, after all. A wife, and supposedly a daughter.”

“Had a family . . .,” he said. “It was on the news while you were out. He killed his wife before coming to your apartment, another stabbing. There’s talk of some sort of letter or manifesto, but no details have been released. I have men working on it now. Good men.”

I shivered again, finally realizing just how insane Vincent Drake was. “So what am I to do?”

He smiled, then patted my hand and stood up. “You’re young and you’re idealistic, my Bella. Part of that is my fault, part your mother's. Your artistic streak has made you fiercely independent, and we agreed to give you some free reign to try things your way. But now it’s time to do things my way.”

I gulped and nodded as he continued.

“You will stay the night here. I’ll have a man posted outside your room, and then starting tomorrow, Daniel will become your driver and your bodyguard.”

“Daniel?” I asked, trying not to sound too excited or surprised. “Daniel Neiman?”

He nodded, but still caught the tone of my voice. “Be careful, Adriana. Daniel’s a good man, and is as loyal of a Soldier as any of my men, but he does have a weakness for pretty young women, as I’m sure you know. I won’t tolerate anything going on between you two. Do you understand, Adriana? I’ve seen the way you look at him, and if it were anyone but you, I’d just assign someone else, but Daniel is the best at what he does.”

I nodded, swallowing my objections. While Daniel was charming and there was a certain magnetism about him, he could also be a first class bastard. My physical attraction stopped there. “I understand. You have nothing to worry about, trust me.”

After Uncle Carlo left, I lay back, my mind whirling. If I didn’t already have enough on my mind, now I’d have to deal with Daniel around the clock. Easy on the eyes, I’d have my hands full keeping myself from jumping his bones. He’s got this Germanic or Nordic look about him, with piercing, amazing blue eyes to go along with blond hair, a square jaw and a chiseled physique.

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