Chapter Fifteen
Roadblocks, Radical Solutions, and Reckless Self-Sacrifice
Elliot
I don't remember the drive home or rushing through the house. Somehow, I end up sprawled across my bed, drowning in self-pity. I’m just happy Sam was already in his room, or maybe out, and didn’t witness my breakdown.
I clutch the comforter closer to me to make the entire situation more pitiful. How could he do that? How could he question Sam when he knows I trust him completely? He’s probably the only person in the world I can, even with my eyes closed.
And his accusation was so absurd. But it makes sense.
He never thought I was capable of dealing with werewolves or getting involved with his cases.
Hell, he wouldn’t let me work on the case about the killer copying my murders.
Oh, wait, to him, the killer is copying Sam because I’m not even the Vigilante Hunter, only a measly henchman.
Fuck him. I don’t need him, his suffocating hugs, his constant affection, or his love. I groan against the pillow. Why can’t this be simpler? We were doing so well. I’d even started to believe he could really love me someday. He was trying so hard.
I finally let the tears flow then. I know I didn’t deserve him.
Knew it when he confessed his love for me.
When he killed his colleague for me. When he lied to all his friends for me.
When he cooked for me. When he patiently listened to me complain about the entire world.
Especially when he didn't deny a single thing I said today.
We were doomed to fail. Our lives are too incompatible ever to merge.
I know I didn’t deserve to be that happy, but fuck it if I won’t let myself grieve its loss.
As the tears wet my pillow, I let myself imagine his arms around me, pulling me against him.
I imagine the warm cocoon that always lulled me to sleep, even on the days it was impossible to shut my brain off.
I drift off imagining his breath against my neck, raising goosebumps all over my body.
I startle awake to loud noises coming from the living room, light streaming through my open windows. I check my phone, panicking that I've missed my early appointments, only to remember we close the clinic on weekends now. A decision I made to make my life feel more normal.
What a pathetic plan. People with normal lives don’t have to pretend to be someone else every day. People with normal lives don’t feel like they don’t fit in their lives, like it’s a piece of clothing two sizes too small.
I rub my crusty eyes and make a quick round to the bathroom to fix myself up before making an appearance outside.
Sam has got eggs and a giant bag of bread on the counter.
“Are we hosting a party?” I ask.
He turns to look at me. “Thankfully, we’re not, because the way you look, you won’t be invited to any of my parties even if I were hosting at your place. What’s going on?”
I walk around the counter and settle onto a stool across from him. He cracks an egg into a bowl. “Just tired.” I cop out. How do you tell your friend your boyfriend suspects you’re still murdering werewolves? Even Vanessa Van Edwards didn’t cover this situation in her books.
Sam frowns at the bowl before looking up at me. “Wait, why are you here? Weren’t you staying over at Nick’s?”
There goes my plan of not mentioning the whole thing. “Uh… I didn’t want to stay.”
The whisking stops. “You guys fight?”
I jump out of my stool. Turns out this conversation can’t happen without coffee. A lot of coffee.
“Oh my god, you really did. What was it about? How you want to raise Mickey? No, that's too basic…” Sam keeps rambling, trailing after me as I pour myself some coffee.
I take a long sip, ignoring him completely. Then another for safety. Mug in hand, I settle onto the stool again as Sam follows me.
“We need to find the killer,” I say.
He snaps his mouth shut, looking confused for a second before picking the whisker back. “So, no help from the Bureau on this?”
I shake my head. “We’re all on our own with very little time.” If we find the killer quickly, I won’t need to bring up Nicholas’s stupid accusation at all. Win-win.
“Well, lucky for you, I excel at impossible tasks.” He puts a slice of bread in the pan. “Can you take over for a sec?” He rushes out, leaving the heat on.
I dart around the counter, moving faster than my brain is prepared for this soon after waking up.
By the time Sam comes back with his laptop, I've toasted the first slice to a perfect crunch, and the next one's already in the pan. “I gave some thought to what you said about accessing the Bureau's resources. Then my brain went on a spiral about how dependent we are on your giant lover boy, and that’s not the best situation. Great guy, not very forthcoming. So, I checked his contacts from the data I’d cloned from his super-secret phone when he was over the other day.”
“You did what?”
“What? Nothing. Anyway, I found the information from someone on the Bureau's tech team. I followed the guy yesterday, and you know what? He hangs out at this gym I’ve been planning to join while I’m here. Crazy, right?”
My eyes widen with his every word. “What did you do, Sam?”
“Long story short, I now have access to all the Bureau data. I do need IDs to get some of them, but give me a few days and I’ll be able to bypass them all. I do have the list of your precious possible victims, though.” He looks at me with a wide smile and expectant eyes.
My jaw drops, the bread forgotten on the stove.
A sharp, burning smell brings my attention back to it.
I throw it in the trash can, turning the stove off.
“What the fuck, Sam?” What if Nicholas finds out about this?
He’ll have more fodder to feed his suspicions. Ugh, what if he uses this as evidence?
“Can they know you’re on their system?”
Sam narrows his eyes. “Who do you think you’re talking to?
One of those clueless tech billionaires who get praised for their team’s work?
Of course, no one will know I’m on their system.
No one will know I have access, even if they find this laptop and hand it to their best hackers.
Everything is so encoded. They’ll spend years detangling it. ”
I raise my hands in surrender. “Just checking.” Nicholas can never know about this. “You have the list, you say?”
He nods, turning his laptop so I can see a series of folders on his screen, each marked with a person’s name.
“That’s not a lot.” There are only seven folders.
Sam turns the laptop back. “Yes, and it’ll automatically populate with a new folder every time they start a new investigation. For now, we need to find these seven people.”
“And you’ve already hacked into the street cameras around their homes?” I ask, knowing the answer already.
“I got bored last night, and you won’t let me go play with the sexy werewolf. I’ll have their phones in my control soon, too,” He says confidently. “Sharing the feeds with you right now, so you can keep an eye out while I figure that out.” He gets busy with his laptop.
The jolt of excitement I felt at the prospect of snooping on unsuspecting people? Yeah, I wasn’t made for a normal life.
***
Adrian calls me in the afternoon while I'm hunched over my laptop, tracking everyone entering our targets' buildings and doing my best to ignore the lack of texts from Nicholas. Why would he even text? He’s said his piece already. So have I. There is nothing left to say. It’s over like I always knew it was going to be.
Now, if I can find the real killer, I’ll at least get to go back to my illusion of normal life. Or we’ll have to flee, and I’ll never see Nicholas ever again.
My screen is split into seven camera feeds with the best angles of the main entry points to their homes since there weren’t any signs of forced entry in any of the victims’ places. Besides, the killer was copying me, and sneaking into anyone’s home isn’t my style.
I preferred to watch their homes, stalk them, and convince them that they wanted me in their homes. Then kill them in cold blood.
I pick up the call, confused. “Hello?”
“Hey, are you at the clinic today? Minka has swallowed some paint. Do you think it’ll make her sick? Can I bring her over?”
“Is she behaving any differently? It’s probably not a problem if she’s normal.” Wait, what the fuck am I doing? “I should still take a look, though. I can come to your place. The clinic’s closed today.”
“If it isn’t a lot of trouble?” He says quickly.
“Hey, anything for a pup as perfect as Minka,” I say honestly.
Adrian laughs. “I’ll send you the address.”
“Perfect. See you in thirty.” I say and disconnect, only to realize I shouldn’t know how long it takes me to drive to his place. I shake my head. I’m just being paranoid. The man has shown no signs of evil. I’d know if he did. I have a pretty good evildar.
I shoot a text to Sam about the recent development, hoping he won’t come after me when he wakes up from his afternoon nap, that’s practically a proper sleep.
Changing into an appropriate T-shirt and jeans, I consider whether to wear a tracker. I mean, I already know where I’m going, and now Sam does too. I doubt that if Adrian wanted to harm me, he’d take me to a second location, leaving his giant, soundproof house behind.
Besides, I’m not going completely unarmed.
I sneak in two full syringes of Valmeron and Myocardiner along with a taser in my to-go vet bag.
I leave the gun out in case he could sniff it out on me.
The medicines can be easily explained away, a gun can’t.
And I don’t want to put him on the offensive right away, I want an opportunity to run if it looks like things might go south.
After checking the contents of my bag one last time, I slip out, closing the door softly behind me.
I drive fast, following the address Adrian just sent. Now that I don’t have to worry about judgments from Nicholas, I feel much lighter as I move closer to what can easily become a dangerous situation.
I don’t have to worry about his disappointment if he finds my body in a werewolf’s house and immediately realizes I wasn’t up to any good.
Maybe knowing he was right all along will give him some peace.
He should never have trusted me because I’ll keep lying to him, as I have throughout our relationship.
I accused him of not trusting me, but as I drive to my abuser’s son’s home, it hits me that I probably never trusted him either. Was it the fear of judgment that kept me from sharing what I’m doing, or was it my fear of rejection? Did I ever really give him a chance?
It doesn’t matter now. As I enter the neighborhood we triumphantly escaped just a few days ago, I feel a renewed sense of determination. I need to find Raymond and get rid of him. I can never truly let myself trust while he lives on, hurting more people.
I pass through the mansions with huge yards until I reach the cream colored villa that’s already too familiar. The gate opens automatically when my car reaches it. I drive inside and park in the driveway.
Alright, let’s get this show on the road.
Adrian pulls the door open as soon as I climb up his porch. A concerned frown etched on his face. “Thank god, you’re here. She’s acting totally normal, but I’m freaking out.”
The golden retriever barrels out of the door from under Adrian. He holds her collar, pulling her back inside before she makes a run for it.
When I step inside, natural light streams through the wide windows, making the white décor feel warm and inviting. A stark contrast to when I was here the last time.
Minka curls herself in her yellow-colored monstrosity of a dog bed. It’s a travesty and sticks out like a sore thumb against everything else.
“Do you think she’ll be fine?” Adrian's voice right behind me startles me.
I start toward Minka, then turn to see Adrian looming over me. “She looks alright. I’ll do a quick checkup to be sure,” I say, backing up further to crouch down in front of Minka.
A sense of déjà vu hits me. I've been in this exact position with some of my victims. Muscle memory takes over, keeping my mind calm and heartbeat even. Putting my bag down, I get started while keeping an eye on Adrian’s movements out of the corner of my eye.
He settles onto the couch beside the dog bed, directly across from me. I angle my bag toward myself to keep its contents out of his sight and wrap my left hand around my taser. The cold metal instantly makes me feel more in control.
Dropping it back, I pull out everything I’ll need for Minka. I pat her softly, murmuring praises to her until she opens her mouth for me. Using my phone’s flashlight, I check the damage. “Throat is clear.” I meet Adrian’s gaze. “So, no choking hazard.”
He blows out a breath, shoulders visibly relaxing. His reaction relaxes me a little. He was genuinely worried. Besides, I’m wasting precious time I could be interrogating him by being unnecessarily paranoid. I have weapons I can use at the drop of a hat if it comes to that.
“It’s so nice to see you this worried about her. Your mom raised you right.” I smile up at him.
Adrian laughs, his eyes sparkling. “She’d kill me if she found out I let this happen to her precious baby.”
I laugh much harder than his comment deserves. “Well, that’s some good parenting right there. Believe me, I’ve seen enough bad parents to say that.” I give him a pointed look.
He sighs. “I don’t remember my dad much, but I have memories of him leaving me alone at home at two when he was supposed to watch over me. Believe me, I know bad parents.”
“And then parents wonder why their kids won’t want to talk to them anymore. You are clearly better off without him.” I check Minka’s heart rate.
Adrian nods, his expression turning distant. “My mom is worried I moved here to find him.”
My body freezes. “Did you?” It comes out as a whisper.
Adrian snaps out of whatever trance had him confessing that and frowns at me. “Of course not. Are you almost done here? I was leaving for a meeting when Minka pulled her little stunt. I need to leave if I want to make it on time.”
The change in topic gives me whiplash. Did I imagine that forlorn expression? That almost confession?
“Yeah, she should be fine, but you should keep an eye on her tonight.” I pack up my instruments, leaving the taser in. Getting up, I pat my clothes out of habit. The place is immaculately clean, almost sterile. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
He stands up with me, walking me out.
“Call me anytime if you need help,” I say once we're outside the house. As I walk to my car, it hits me that I hadn’t planned on leaving the place in one piece. And I still came, all alone, without any backup from Sam. He hasn’t texted back, which means he’s still sleeping.
The whole thing took less than fifteen minutes, but I’d prepared myself for an attack. I pull out of his house, knowing in my heart Adrian is hiding something. Something big. But no matter what I'd convinced myself this trip was about, he didn’t want to harm me.