Into the Night(44)

And sometimes, even the oldest of friends—and the truest of lovers—could keep secrets. “She met him online. That was how he found all of his victims. He pretended to be whatever they needed him to be. A friend to listen. A lover to want. A fucking prince charming if their lives were going to hell.”

He heard the rustle of covers and could see that she’d pulled them around her body in the dark.

“I’m not...easy.” He lifted his chin. “I’ve never been a fucking easy guy to live with. I did a stint in the military, and Cadi hated that. She didn’t want to be alone.” He raked a hand over his face. “She never liked that...and he used her loneliness against her. He had her convinced that she could trust him. She went to meet him, and she never came back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If I’d been there for her, if I’d been the friend I should have been, been the lover she deserved, Cadi never would have been taken. The police found her body five days after she’d gone missing. I was the one to ID her.” He swallowed, remembering. “She looked like a broken doll. Covered in bruises, cuts. He hurt her for so long...and when I asked the cops what they were doing, they had nothing for me. They didn’t know who he was. Didn’t know how to track him. They didn’t know any damn thing about him. He was still out there, waiting for someone else. Waiting for the chance to attack again.”

“You didn’t give him that chance.”

“No.”

“You hunted him.”

He’d been relentless. “I hunted him, and I found him...right before the asshole was going to take another woman. Because I learned he used the same MO, you see. The women—they thought they were playing it safe. Meeting in a public bar. But something kept happening. They left the bar with him each time, and they were never seen again. I figured he might be slipping them roofies, and I was right. I caught the bastard while he was trying to force a woman into the back of his car. His next victim.”

Macey was still on the bed. He was staring down at her, knowing he should stop the story before he went too far. While he could still pretend to be the good guy.

“His victim was barely conscious. I drove my fist into his face, and I heard the bones snap.” He’d liked that sound. As he’d pounded Arnold’s face, an image of Cadi’s battered body had flashed through Bowen’s mind. “I hit him until he wasn’t fighting back. Until he was nothing but a ball on the ground, bleeding and crying. He was crying, after what he’d done to Cadi.”

She rose from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her body. “You gave her justice.”

“He died in that alley.”

She reached for his hand. Damn it, no, she wasn’t supposed to touch him now. He tried to pull away, but she just held him tighter. “Bowen, I read this part in the police report. You were comforting the victim. He came at you both, still attacking. You had no choice but to shoot him.”

He looked down at her hand.

“You were licensed to carry a concealed weapon. You were defending yourself. Just like you did tonight. You were stopping a killer.”

His lips pressed together. Her fingers were so soft against his skin.

“To hunt him, I became like him.” The words came out, the words he could give to her. “I knew the sites he used online. I went there, and I thought like him, I tried to find the victims he’d want. The victims—they led me to him. I could predict his moves. What he was going to do.” Because I knew how he’d want to kill them. “I knew what he was going to do to that girl in the alley.”

“But he didn’t do it. You saved her. You stopped him!”

I killed him.

“You stopped him, you joined the FBI and you’ve been fighting killers ever since.”

She was talking as if he were a hero. But then, wasn’t that the story he’d let others believe for far too long? He wished she wasn’t touching him, not then. Not... “I was never going to let him out of that alley.” His voice had turned into a growl. “I knew that, long before I ever threw the first punch at him.”

“Bowen?”

“To me, he was a dead man the minute I saw what he’d done to Cadi.”

Her hands pulled from his. “But you stopped...in the alley...you stopped. You were punching him, but you backed away to get to the victim.”

I backed away because my gun was in the saddlebags of my motorcycle. “He lunged at me and grabbed me from behind. I’d just gotten my gun, and I whirled back. The woman was screaming, begging me to stop him, and I pulled the trigger.” He blew out a slow breath. “And when the cops searched his car, they found handcuffs, rope, duct tape and knives. They also found his phone—and all of the videos he’d taken of the women he’d tortured.” Bowen shook his head. “They didn’t exactly question me much after that. A killer was off the streets. A victim was safe, and hey, the press got a hero for a day.”

“You...don’t think you’re a hero.”

He wasn’t sure what the hell he was. But a hero? No. Not even close. And maybe that was why he’d joined the FBI. Because he’d hunted Arnold Shaw for the wrong reason. To kill him. Not to get justice. Just because at the last moment, Arnold had attacked and he’d fired in self-defense...that doesn’t really change what I intended.