Chapter 38 The Revelation

Chapter 38 The Revelation
Thad doesn’t say anything for a long moment after I finish describing the dream.
We’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and I’ve just walked him through every detail I can remember. The bar. The drinks. The way Menlow introduced himself as Miles and asked questions about my life like he actually cared about the answers.
“You told Rosalie about this,” he reminds me. “About meeting him before.”
“I told her I remembered a stranger at a bar who I believed was Menlow. I didn’t remember the details until now.” I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “The dream brought it all back. The way he looked at me. The things he asked. He wanted to know where I worked, what I did for fun, and whether I was seeing anyone. He was so…curious.”
Thad works his jaw and narrows his eyes as though he’s thinking. “He was gathering information.”
I sputter my lips and reply, “I figured that much out on my own. But there’s something else, isn’t there? Something you haven’t told me. I can tell.”
He stands and moves to the window, where he pulls back the curtain to stare out at the night. His shoulders are rigid, and the muscles in his back are coiling beneath his shirt.
He’s tense. Which means whatever he’s about to say, I’m not going to like.
“Menlow didn’t just stumble across you,” he admits without turning around. “He’d been watching you for nearly two months before that night at the bar.”
Two months. The number settles in my stomach like a stone, making me nauseous.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I was watching you too. And I noticed when someone else started showing up in the same places.” He drops the curtain and turns to face me. “I didn’t realize it was Menlow at first. He was careful. He kept his distance, changed his appearance, and never stayed long enough to draw attention. But eventually, I recognized him.”
“And you didn’t think to warn me?”
“I confronted him. Privately. He claimed he was just curious about the woman who’d caught my attention. He said he wanted to understand what made you special.” Thad’s voice turns bitter. “I believed him. I thought he was jealous, not homicidal.”
“So when he approached me at the bar…”
“He was escalating. Testing how close he could get without me noticing.” Thad crosses the room and sits beside me on the bed. “I didn’t know about that encounter until you told Rosalie. If I had known, I would have—”
“Would have what? Killed him sooner?” I shake my head. “He’s already dead, Thad. That doesn’t change what he did to me. What he took from me.”
“I know.”
We sit in silence as I keep replaying the dream in my head, seeing Menlow’s face through new eyes. The practiced smile. The way he made me feel seen. It wasn’t charm. It was calculation.
“He was trying to seduce me,” I realize aloud. “Wasn’t he?”
Thad doesn’t answer right away, which is answer enough.
“That was likely his original plan,” he confirms. “Win you over, make you fall for him, then reveal the truth about what you were to me and watch everything fall apart.”
“But I didn’t fall for him. I thought he was weird. I forgot about him the same night.”
Thad reaches over and takes my hand. “Which is probably why he changed tactics. When seduction didn’t work, he resorted to violence. If he couldn’t have you, he’d make sure I couldn’t either.”
The violation of it barrels into me. This wasn’t a random attack. This wasn’t wrong place, wrong time. Menlow set out to destroy me, one way or another.
I pull my hand free and stand, needing to move, needing to put distance between myself and the bed where I had that dream.
“I let him buy me a drink,” I say, my voice cracking. “I sat there and talked to him for twenty minutes. I told him about my job. I told him about my promotion. I probably told him a dozen other things I can’t even remember.”
“None of that is your fault.”
“I know it’s not my fault.” I spin around and add,. “But it still makes me sick. The idea that he was sitting there, smiling at me while he was planning how to ruin my life while I laughed at his stupid jokes…”
I can’t finish the sentence. My throat closes up, and I press my hand against my mouth to keep from screaming or crying or both.
Thad is beside me in an instant. He pulls me into his arms and holds me against his chest, and I let him because I don’t know what else to do.
“He’s dead,” Thad mumbles against my hair. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“He’s been hurting me since the moment I woke up in this house.” I bury my face against his shirt and breathe in his familiar scent. I realize the smell of my captor shouldn’t comfort me so much, but I can’t help it. “Every secret you’ve kept. Every question you’ve dodged. Every time I’ve felt like a stranger in my own skin. That’s all because of him.”
“I know.”
“I hate him. I hate him so much it scares me.”
“Good. Hold onto that. Let it make you strong.”
I don’t feel strong. I feel hollowed out and utterly exhausted.
But I also feel something else. Something that burns beneath the grief and the anger and the violation.
I feel ready to fight.