It begins online with a single message from a shadowed stranger in an online forum. It hits me at just the right time. I can’t stop myself even though I know it’s wrong.
He isn’t my increasingly secretive fiancé or my trusted friend. He’s a tattoo-covered stranger with crazy wide shoulders, all the muscles, and words so dirty they shock my soul. He could be anyone. One question more. One deeper confidence. One raw admission. Circling closer, shedding layers with every strike of the key.
Direct messages become text messages, and text messages become stolen phone calls, hot whispers in the night, dirty pictures, and filthy words.
And when phone calls aren’t enough, it gets real. He storms into my world, destroys everything, exposes the truth about the man I thought I would marry, about myself, the people around me. He rips apart the fabric of my life, explodes it with secrets and darkness and painful inescapable truths.
He is a hitman. I am his target. He’s been stalking me all this time. And we belong together.