Chapter 23
Greer
Iwas told I was free to go earlier. I don’t know why or what new development there was in Koen’s case against him, but for my own sake, I listened and left.
Allison sits across from me at the steakhouse we chose to go to after leaving the police station, sipping her wine.
I’m on my second glass, and know I’ll be taking an Uber home to avoid riding with her while she’s drinking.
I never drink away from the house, but with everything going on around me, it was well deserved.
“That was the strangest interrogation I’ve ever been a part of,” Allison finally says.
The server approaches the table, setting down bread before refilling our wine glasses.
We both smile cordially at him until he’s once again gone.
“I thought it was, but I figured it was only my perspective.”
“No. Something was off, especially with that Lasko guy. Something isn’t right about this case. If they contact you again, call me. Don’t go there alone, do you hear me?”
“I won’t,” I agree.
We each butter some pumpernickel bread, staring at one another as if urging the other to speak first.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
I’d refused to spill any details in the interrogation room, because I didn’t trust that they weren’t listening by some other means to get more intel on Koen. I don’t know why I’m protective of him, and I’m trying not to focus on it, either.
I swallow another mouthful of wine. “He threatened to hurt you, so I went with him.”
She rolls her eyes, deadpanning at me. “I know that part, G. Tell me what happened while he had you. Did you go on a job with him? What is a job? What’s he do?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t think I was on a job with him, but there was a night when he took me to some backwoods bar where he disappeared for a decent chunk of time and came back with a speck of blood on his cheek.”
“Had he been bleeding?”
“Not that I could see.”
“Could’ve been a nosebleed,” she reasons.
“Could’ve been.” The thought that she might help me unravel some of this with a level head, instead of screaming at me for being a moron, has me relaxing, or the red wine does. Either way, I slouch into the booth, thankful we’re towards the back of the restaurant, where it’s quiet.
“Did he hurt you?” she asks, her eyes growing dark and serious.
I shake my head. “No. He’s… obsessed with me.”
“Yeah, I got that much.”
I grin a little sadly.
“And you?”
“And me, what?”
“Were you equally as obsessed with him? I know the state they found you in. Do you have… feelings for him?” She’s treading carefully, as if I’m a fragile girl in danger of falling apart at any moment.
“No. I mean… I don’t know. I felt things when I was with him, but it can’t be real, can it?”
“Why not?”
“He kidnapped me, Ali.”
She bites the inside of her cheek. “You look well taken care of.”
I laugh at her absurdity. “He killed all the men you set me up with, did you forget that part? And that’s only half of it.”
She narrows her gaze at me, leaning forward. “What’s the other half of it?”
Our punctual server chooses that exact moment to waltz up with our food, placing it down and seeming to notice the tension building between us.
After we thank him and he moves away, Allison doubles down, glaring at me. “Well?”
I look around the room. There’s only one other couple in this part of the restaurant, an older pair, at least ten booths from us.
Still, I lean forward and whisper, “I think he’s the Oakland Nightstalker.”
Her brows shoot up. “He admitted to it?”
“No. Of course not. He never denied it, though.”
“Well, sometimes, denying something vehemently is as good as an admission of guilt.”
“I guess I hadn’t considered that.”
“Maybe he thought you were kidding when you asked?”
“Maybe.”
Cutting into my steak, I consider every moment I had with Koen, every touch, every look. I never felt threatened while with him.
Before I was with him, maybe.
Even when I knew he could end it all, I wasn’t worried.
That could be from years of trauma after running him down on the side of the road, though.
“So, how was he in bed?” she asks, forking through her sweet potato to mash it with cinnamon butter.
I nearly choke. Taking a moment to swallow my food, I cough, drawing attention to our table. “What is the matter with you?”
She smirks. “I’m still your best friend. Murderer or not, I still need to know these things.”
“What purpose could my sex life with a murderer serve to you?”
She considers before saying, “Research. What if that’s why I haven’t found my soulmate?”
“Oh, so instead of defending bad guys, you’ll marry one?”
She shrugs. “Never know. Stop deflecting. How was the sex?”
Feeling lighter, I shake my head. “Epic. Unmatched. Something I’ll never find again.”
“Oh, damn.”
“What?”
“You have feelings for him. I’m sorry, babe.”
“I’ll be fine. I need to get back to normal. He resigned from my job for me, so tomorrow I have to sort that mess out.”
She chuckles. “Real piece of work, that one.”
“Right?! The nerve.”
“I don’t know, though. I saw his booking photos, and I’d look past just about anything that man did to get a piece of that.”
“Allison!”
We fall into easy banter back and forth before the check comes. We’re walking arm in arm to the parking lot to wait for my ride home, when Allison breaks the comfortable silence. “So, was he the one we hit?”
“Yup.”
“Fuck.”
“I mean, at least he’s not dead,” I offer.
“We wasted a lot of time thinking we were killers, though. Hey, that should give you some perspective.” She nudges me with her elbow.
“How do you figure?”
“You thought you were a murderer all these years you’ve been blending into society, you should be able to relate to him on some level, right?”
I’m gaping like a fish when my car pulls up to our left.
She giggles, leaning in to drop a kiss on my cheek. “Give yourself some grace. This is the first time I’ve seen you calm since before the accident.” She turns and walks toward her car, which beeps when she unlocks it.
“It’s the wine!” I yell over the curling breeze.
“It’s the dick!” she shouts back.
Shaking my head, I get into my Uber, thankful when the driver doesn’t speak a word to me.
There are too many thoughts in my head for idle chatter, and Allison’s given me even more shit to think about.
When I get home, the anxiety I had before is gone. I open the door and flick on the outside lights, leaning on the porch while I watch Bear use the bathroom and run around in fallen leaves.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in my new sense of calm, ignoring the way my chest burns at the loss of Koen. I can’t begin to unpack my feelings towards him or this situation.
I’m not a killer.
That’s something I’m still grappling with, so I don’t have time to dig into anything else beyond that.
One thing at a time.
“Come, Bear!” I shout, opening the front door.
He bounds up the porch, and I enter behind him, locking it behind me out of habit.
The only person I need to worry about keeping out is in jail. Even if he weren’t, a lock wouldn’t stop him.
I’m pretty sure he copied all my keys while I slept in a drug-induced haze.
I sigh, moving to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine, when I realize that’s another thing I have to process. He drugged me.
I’m ignoring the way my body responded to watching the videos of him fucking me while drugged completely.
I hesitate, eyeing my wine bottles dubiously.
These could all be laced.
I grumble before pouring them out.
A shopping trip is in order tomorrow, I’ll grab more then.
I turn to shut off the light over the stove, and I stop dead in my tracks.
“What the fuck?”
Sitting on the stove, placed in plain sight, are my devices, which Koen took from me when he took me from Allison’s house.
The AirTag sits in the middle of them, a smiley face drawn on it that’s winking up at me.
Grabbing my phone, I see that it’s fully charged. There are no texts or missed calls, only old shit from over two weeks ago when he took it from me.
Allison’s chat is gone, as if he’d wiped it from existence, but I open her contact and tap on it, my heart speeding with each ring.
“I thought you didn’t have your phone?” she answers.
“I didn’t. When I got home, it was on my stove.”
“Oh… How did it get there?”
“I don’t know. Koen had it, Ali. I swear.”
“He’s locked up, though. Could he have connections who dropped it off, maybe?”
“I guess. The fucking AirTag is here.”
“He found it?” she squeaks.
“He drew a winking smiley face on it.”
Her drunken laugh blasts through the phone. “I don’t know if I hate this dude or love him.”
Same.
I keep that thought to myself.
“I need to change the locks on the house tomorrow.”
“I’ve got a guy. I’ll send him first thing in the morning.”
“Okay. Thank you. And thank you for being understanding earlier. I know that my life has become a shitstorm, and it’s a lot, but I’m thankful I still have you and that you’re not judging me, even when I wholeheartedly should be judged right now.”
“Girl. Stop. I love you. Nothing you could do could make me judge or hate you.”
“I love you, too. Thank you for everything.”
“Goodnight, G.”
“Goodnight.”
I hang up, sighing as I check the locks on all the doors and windows. I don’t like the thought that Koen gave someone the key to my place, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Picking up my e-reader, I power it on to check its battery life, only to find it’s fully charged. However, the bookshelf has completely changed.
“What the hell?”
All new titles have been loaded into my library: A Stalker’s Obsession, In Love with a Shadow, Voyeur, A Love Affair with Darkness… The list goes on.
I smirk, unable to help myself, before powering it off and tossing it back onto the stove.
I shut the house down, shower, and then get into bed. There’s no lingering scent of Koen here, something I’ve gotten used to over the last couple of weeks. Bear gets on the bed and cuddles near my feet, but even then, I find it hard to sleep.
I toss and turn for a while before throwing the covers back and trudging to the kitchen for my e-reader.
Clicking on one of the ridiculous titles he loaded up for me, I roll onto my side and read.
If I can’t deal with the absolute nightmare my life has become, I’ll escape into another world for a little bit.