We rode the elevator in silence. He had his hands in his pockets, still studying me from the corner of his eye. He sensed my mood and was keeping a distance. I was grateful for it.

Then we finally made it to his place. It was luxurious. The modern penthouse he owned was fifty-two hundred square feet, with floor to ceiling windows, half a dozen bedrooms and a kitchen that at first left me breathless in its degree of elegance; it was very ying-yang with its light marble countertops and tall dark cabinets. We usually sat around the island on our barstools in the morning, chatting while I made my “feral” coffee. Then we’d move to the lounge, another area with warm colours, but still fairly clinical. I tried to feel at home here, and it worked for a while when I was with him, but walking into the place now, I just felt out of it.

It was nothing like my crappy little unit that took fifteen steps to walk from one corner to the other. The bathroom didn’t have my cracked shower head that spurted out water from half of the holes, leaving me huddled in one corner for a century just to have my hair soaked. I didn’t hear police sirens at night, or men brawling on the streets during the weekend, or the air brakes of a bus stopping at five in the morning, disrupting my sleep.

My life had drastically changed, and it was only tonight that I truly realized the magnitude of that.

He said something about making a phone call before disappearing into one of the rooms. I didn’t take off my jacket or even my shoes as I walked to the large windows. I looked out into the night sky, at all the stars almost entirely obscured by the clouds, and then at the river shimmering under the moonlight.

A shiver wracked my body just then as I tried to visualize a naked body in the waters. For the hundredth time since I got here, the same thought swirled in my mind.

Why is his home overlooking the river Kate died in?

It had been a shock to me initially, and now I was just curious. Did he think of her every time he looked out? And how many times had I watched him look out in the first place?

Dozens. I answered myself. Dozens of times.

I frowned and shook my head. I was tired. Everything would feel normal again in the morning. I was jumping from one thought to the other, paranoia eating me on the inside sparked by that conversation in the office.

Marcus Borden was a bad man, but I knew that already. I accepted it. I just didn’t expect to hear it.

“What’s getting at you, doll?”

His voice startled me. I turned around and found him standing feet away from me, looking briefly over my shoulder and then back at me. We stared at each other for a few overdrawn moments. Then he raised his brows, waiting for my response.

“You already know,” I finally muttered.

He didn’t flinch, or react. “You have something on your mind?” he asked me calmly. “Let it out.”

I sighed, defeated. “Why did you make me hear all that?”

“Would you have preferred I kept you in the dark?”

I went to say yes, and then hesitated. I wasn’t even sure what my answer was because of course I would have wanted to know and yet…I didn’t like what I felt after knowing.

Again, clusterfuck.

“You’re close to me now, Emma,” he then said, his eyes searching mine. “You have to know who you’re with.”

“And what if I don’t like who I’m with?” I blurted out without thinking.

He went still, a flash of pain marring his face before he masked his emotions. That look alone made me want to quickly take those words back and kiss his pain away.

“Borden –”

“You told me you knew what you were doing when you wanted this,” he cut in.

“That was before you admitted to murdering those men!”

He scoffed at me. “Don’t be naïve, and don’t you fucking lie to yourself either. You always fucking knew, Emma, and deep inside it never bothered you. That was justice –”

“Sounds more like revenge.”

“Sometimes they’re the same.” He took a step closer to me, his eyes hard on mine. “You know you’d have walked the same path. If someone you loved was taken away viciously before their time and without reason, you’d have rained havoc on the fuckers responsible. Don’t lie to yourself. Revenge and justice work hand in hand when you want it to. Those fuckers didn’t deserve to breathe, and the streets are better for it now they’re gone. That’s justice, restoring balance in the world. Better justice than having them sit in a prison cell, getting their three square meals a day and a bed to sleep on at night.

“Now being the personal one to put a bullet through their skulls after I knocked them around with my fists? That was my taste of revenge, and I don’t take a single second of it back. I’d do it again, and I will, when I find the people responsible for threatening the life of someone that is mine… regardless if that someone doesn’t like me.”

Guilt filled my chest.

“Borden,” I started contritely, “I didn’t mean that.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I know you didn’t. I get it. You’re frightened of me. You’re frightened of what I’m capable of, but you shouldn’t be. I’m not capable of hurting you. I feel too much when I’m around you. The mere thought of putting a finger on you in a way that you don’t deserve makes me sick to my stomach. You shouldn’t fear me. I’m the last human being on this earth you should fear. You gut me. You fucking turn me inside out, Emma. No harm will ever come to you by my hands. I’m simply incapable.”

I swallowed hard at his words. I believed him. I knew in my heart he would never harm me. “In my heart I know that, but…hearing all of that tonight was overwhelming for me, Marcus.”

He shut his eyes briefly as I spoke his name. He liked when I did it, and I didn’t do it often enough.

“You could have told me everything without me being there,” I added.

“No,” he disagreed. “I wanted you to witness it.”

“Why?”

“To give you an idea of what I do. You’re part of my world now, doll, and I’m not letting you out. Remember, I latch, and I’ve latched pretty fucking deep. I needed you to know the threat, to understand just how dangerous being with me can be. But also that I’ll go to the ends of the fucking earth to make sure nothing will happen to you. And mark my words, Emma, nothing will ever happen to you.”