Under Pressure [IAD Agency] (Siren Publishing Classic)

had a stalker. His name was…is Victor Dane.”
    Jason’s breath left in a rush like someone had sucker punched him. Just watching her sitting there, so little and pale, made every instinct inside Jason go on red alert. Fury filled him at the word stalker , and he knew, he knew whatever was coming next was going to be bad. The thought of a man scaring her, stalking her, made him want to roar with rage. His stomach clenched as she continued, and he forced himself to be patient during the telling.
    Bella’s voice got soft, almost a whisper as the images of that night came back. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be the one to tell you, Sal. He broke into my suite at the hotel and attacked me. He…I…I can’t. I thought I could, but…I’m sorry I can’t. Tony, you tell it. Please, I can’t.” Her voice hitched, lost in the memories. Unable to look at anyone, Bella ran from the room. Liz got up and went after her.
    Silence filled the room so thick it was as if the men were held captive by it.
    Tony downed his own drink before he continued the story.
    “He cut her up with her own knives. Told her she was his and that if he couldn’t have her, no one would. He stabbed her twice. We…we thought she had died. And he fucking escaped.” His eyes opened, blazing with unchecked fury. “He’s still out there, he hasn’t been caught yet.”
    “She’s not over it.” Danny’s ragged voice took over. “She survived, but that night…that night he took a part of her. He didn’t just…She was raped.” His eyes bore into Sal’s. “She hardly leaves here, afraid to go out. Thinks she can’t be a chef anymore because she can’t use her right hand fully. He destroyed her.”
    “Screw that, he didn’t destroy her. Bella has worked hard to get her life back. She’s come so far,” Tony declared harshly. “We’re helping her get her life back.” He took a shuddering breath. “But the nightmares…shit. They make me want to throw up after she has them. She can’t sleep without the nightmares. She screams…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head.
    “I…” Sal breathed out, unable to form a thought. Letting out a stream of curses, he flung himself up off the couch. Rage made it necessary to move. Before anyone could move, Sal put his fist through the wall. Breath heaving, he rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
    “Well, that was special,” Danny said, trying for levity.
    Tony shot him a look meant to shut him up before giving Sal his own glare. “You are so going to fix that later.”
    “I wasn’t here! I wasn’t fucking here. How could this happen?”
    Danny leaned back on the couch watching Sal pace the room like a tiger in a cage. “We think Dane tried to kill Bella’s assistant, too. He was hit by a car, a hit-and-run the night before the attack on Bella. The crazy fucker thought they were lovers. Tony and I tried to track this guy, but we haven’t been able to find him. Must have changed names and we can’t trace him. He had pictures of her. Millions of them. He must have been taking them for months. His apartment was a freaking shrine of Bella. The guy is seriously crazy.”
    “What he is, is a dead man. He can’t hide, I’ll find him, and I’m going to rip his fucking heart out. I’ll tear his goddamn head off. No, I’m gonna cut every one of the motherfucker’s body parts off and then grind them into pieces,” Sal vowed, shaken to the core.
    “Our brother, the poet,” Danny said dryly.
    “Shut up, Danny.”
    “There is nowhere, nowhere that we can’t find him. You or me, either way we end him.” Jason soft, menacing reply had Sal’s eyes locking onto Jason’s cold deadly stare. If his mind wasn’t clouded with anger and anguish at what he had just heard, even he would have been frightened. Staring at Jason was like looking at vengeance in the flesh, the cold, hard promise of death.
    Sal’s fists clenched and released over and over again until finally he nodded. Between the two of them and with IAD involved, Victor Dane was a dead man walking.
    Jason felt sick. The burning rage boiled in his veins like a sickness. The consuming need to kill this Victor Dane made it hard to breathe. Visions of murder danced evilly in his head. The desire to kill was so thick he could all but taste it. Never before had he actively wanted to kill another person so badly that his entire body shook with the need. He had killed a lot of people during his career. It was part