Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

I won once. I’d do it again.
“Just pick new tactics,” I told him. “I don’t appreciate you
ambushing me in the bathroom like some pervert.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bridge Bay Theater,” I prompted. “I was alone in the
bathroom today. You came in and messed with me. I thought
you would’ve learned how to up your game in prison.”
He laughed once, took a drag of his cigarette, and exhaled.
“I have no idea what fantasy you were concocting in your
dreams, but I was in New York all day,” he said. “I just got
back an hour ago.”
“Yeah, of course you were.”
“Why would I lie?”
I paused, realizing he might have a point. He had no
motive to deny it. It was no secret he had it out for me and my
family. And there was probably no proof he was there, and
even if he was, an alibi could be forged to say he was
elsewhere.
With just us, here in this room alone, he’d take pleasure in
doing and saying whatever he wanted with no one else to hear.
He stepped up to me, and I could smell the tobacco on
him, as well as the fragrance of his clothes, the expensive
fabric and the leather of his shoes.
“I’m better than that,” he nearly whispered down on me,
and I could feel the ice on his cool breath from the drink he’d
just had. “Why would I corner someone in a public space
when anyone could walk in and interrupt me? I would need
privacy.”
His fingers brushed my hair off my cheek, and I jerked
away.
“Like a big house?” he told me. “With miles of empty
forest outside and no neighbors. No traffic. Nothing.” I heard
the sick smile in his voice and didn’t miss his meaning at all.
He already had it all planned out.