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Jack gritted his teeth, and didn t speak for a second, instead sitting down on the couch. You can t go
meeting some guy you met on the Internet, Lynn.
I rolled my eyes. And who the hell are you to stop me?
I m your boyfriend.
I blinked at that. Dang, talk about blindsiding me. Was he? Granted, just the other day I was thinking
that very same thing. But he was a guy, they weren t supposed to think like that, were they?
You can t be my boyfriend. I mean, I haven t even been to your house& Weren t there certain things
that qualified a boyfriend? Like seeing each other s homes? Didn t that rank up there in the whole
you re my boyfriend/girlfriend thing? I mean, if he was one of those guys who changed his bed sheets
yearly, I don t know if I d want him to be my boyfriend.
And I didn t know that.
It suddenly slapped me in the face exactly how much I didn t know about Jack. Though I knew he was
from Pennsylvania, I didn t know what his family was like. What he wanted to be when he grew up, why
he s working in accounting, what brought him to Kansas, really.
There s so much that a girlfriend should know about her boyfriend, right?
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Jack shook his head at me. Lynn, I m not even going to pretend I know what the hell you re talking
about. He adjusted the ice on his forehead. You re not going to meet some guy you met on the
Internet.
And why not?
It s not safe! Lynn, he could be a rapist, a child molester, a murderer. You don t know anything about
him. He could be&
He could be a nice guy that I ve talked to for almost a year, who is just as much aBuffy freakoid as I
am.
Do you even know what he looks like?
No. But that s not the point. He s probably some big nerdy guy who looks like the comic book guy on
the Simpsons. Still, he s my friend, and I m going to meet him.
Jack shook his head. You re not going.
Bet me.
If I have to tie you to the bed, you re not going.
Like you could, I bit back at him, tipping my head in defiance.
Jack leapt up off the couch and was within inches of my face, his eyes dark and dangerous. Do not
tempt me, Lynn Broadmore. I ll tie you to your bed right now if that s what it takes. You posted that
email you got from the FBI online. I can t believe that was some random thing.
Dude, that was a hoax, I know it was.
You think?
I know.
He grabbed my hand and hauled me into the computer room, and pounded in a web address.
Up popped more information about the Fan Fiction Killer. My jaw went slack. Scanning the information,
it showed images of women who d been taken, their online handles, what they had written and other
tidbits of information.
Including images of the quills that were found with every one of the bodies.
My hands started to shake.
Jack raised his brow. You re not going. He glared at me with dark, dangerous eyes.
That look scared the bejezzus out of me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
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Shall I count the ways I hate Jack Edwards? It was nearly quitting time Monday at work, and all day
long, I swear, Jack had been hovering over me.
He wouldn t let me out of his sight. Every time I turned around, he was watching. I swear, if I didn t
known better, he had X-ray vision and was looking at me through the cubicle wall.
Though he didn t talk to me all day, he was always right there, shadowing me. I felt the only possible
relief from him when I went to pee. I considered taking my desk into the bathroom stall just to get away
from him.
Not that I think it would help.
And to make matters worse, Tina Smith and her over-inflated ego seemed to grin bigger than ever every
time I walked down a hall, as though she knew something that I didn t.
Boy I wanted to smack her.
But first, I must kill Jack. I couldn t stand the egocentric bastard he was being today. Seriously, the man
had a complex.
I stared at the clock on my desk, willing the minute hand to move faster so I could get out of here. I had
to get out of here, to get away from Jack before I went postal on him.
Even the thought of writing more fan fiction seemed like a sucky way to try and cheer myself up, and
that s never a good sign.
I spent as much of the day as I could with my locker door open to inspire, but not even Angel and Spike
could take the depression out of me. The depression stemmed from the fright Jack had given me about
this Fan Fiction Killer. If I had any doubt before that it had been a hoax, that doubt was smashed into a
thousand pieces.
Even though Jack was irritating the snot out of me with the hovering, I finally got what he was worried
about.
Which made me wonder if there was some way we could reach a compromise.
And you need to apologize to him,squeaked that inner voice, which I immediately silenced. I didn t
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