Chapter Eighteen
Seraphine
“FBI arrested him last night.” Emmeline’s words came out in a rush. “It’s all over the news. They say he confessed to everything, Sera. Including the original sorority murders.”
My legs gave out and I sank onto the couch. The phone was pressed so hard to my ear that it hurt. “That’s… impossible.”
“Are you listening to me, Sera? It’s over, babe. Finally, over.”
Valen came from the down the hall, his hair messy from sleep. He took one look at me and stalked over. “What’s going on?”
I put the phone on speaker, my hand trembling. “Emmeline, can you say that again? Valen just walked in.”
“They caught him!” Her excited voice filled the cabin. “The FBI task force cornered him in a motel less than twenty miles from your cabin.”
Twenty miles.
Twenty fucking miles.
Valen’s jaw clenched, as if he was thinking the same thing as me. Cyrus would have been here any moment. Would we have been as prepared as we hoped?
“OK, slow down, Emmeline,” Valen said, his face a mask of control. “What exactly are they saying on the news?”
“They’re saying he confessed to everything. But they haven’t released a name yet.”
Valen sat down next me, his warm body pressed against mine. He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “Are they sure it’s the right guy?”
“My connection at the Bureau heard they found some type of shrine box. Photos of Seraphine, newspaper clippings, recordings, even some items that belonged to each of the victims. But that’s all I could get out of him.
They’re being really hush-hush so they don’t fuck anything up. ” Emmeline’s voice trailed off.
The phone felt heavy in my hands. Six years of nightmares, of looking over my shoulder and being afraid to live. And it was… over. Just like that?
“Seraphine?” Emmeline called out to me. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I said. Valen wrapped his arm around me, the movement instantly comforting. “I just can’t believe it’s really over.”
“Believe it, babe. He’s never going to hurt you again. You’re free.”
After I hung up, Valen and I sat in silence for a long moment trying to process what Emmeline had said.
“How do you feel?” he asked softly, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
I gazed up at him, his face expressionless.
There were a slew of emotions running through me—excitement, hope, wariness—and it was hard to grab on to just one of them.
“Grateful. Relieved,” I said, and I meant it with all my heart.
“The knot that’s been growing in my stomach for six years just disappeared. ”
“But?” Valen arched his brow, like he knew I wasn’t finished with the thought.
“But… well, no buts really. It’s just…” I shrugged, reaching for his hand.
“I guess I thought when the moment came—him being caught, or preferably dead—I’d feel more…
complete? Like that missing piece of the puzzle would snap right into place and I’d be whole right away.
Kind of stupid when I say that out loud. ” I laughed.
“It’s not stupid.” He pressed his lips to my temple, pulling me closer. “It’s normal. It’ll take some time to adjust to.”
“And you? What are you feeling?”
“Honestly? Disappointed he’s still breathing.” He chuckled darkly. “I don’t want you to have to go through any trial bullshit again. Or see him. It would be better if he was dead.”
“Agreed,” I muttered.
Valen picked up the remote, turning on the news.
The arrest was on every major news channel.
There was even arrest footage, but the surveillance video of FBI agents leading a man away from a motel in handcuffs was too blurry.
It could have been anyone, which wasn’t helping with the feeling that this whole thing was too easy.
“I should call Detective Flores. See if he can confirm if it’s Cyrus.” I reached for my cell, scrolling though until I found the detective’s number.
Valen nodded, turned off the television and leaned back into the couch. He watched me closely, as if waiting to see if I was going to have a freakout.
But… I wasn’t. Happy seemed like such a simple label to put on what I was feeling at the moment. Ecstatic? Maybe slightly paranoid this was all a ruse and Cyrus was going to kick in the door any moment?
No, they caught him.
Detective Flores picked up on the first ring. “Ashford? I was wondering when you’d call.”
“Is it true?” I asked, my voice breathless.
“Yes, the FBI apprehended a suspect not too far from here. From what I understand he confessed, and they found a slew of evidence in his motel room.”
“Who is it? I need a name.” I gripped the phone so hard, my knuckles turned white.
He paused, the sound of a door closing and then mostly silence in the background. “I’m not supposed to say, but you’ve been through hell, kid. Cyrus Creed. Escaped a mental institution six months ago.”
I exhaled sharply, meeting Valen’s gaze. I nodded, which only made his jaw clench even harder. “The news footage was blurry. Could you send me a photo? I want to know what he looks like.”
Detective Flores chuckled. “Sorry, kid, it’s an active investigation. Can’t release any photos. Protocol.”
“Protocol?” I scoffed. “This man tried to kill me. Killed my friends and countless other women. I think I have a right to know what he looks like.”
“Look, Ashford, I get it, alright? But the FBI is doing everything by the book considering what happened with Detective Parsons.” He was being firm, but not rude, and I immediately hated that I was treating him like the enemy when he wasn’t.
“All I can tell you is he claims he’s Cyrus Creed, and everything we know so far supports that. ”
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting my shoulders fall. “You said claims to be? They’re not certain it’s him?”
I could feel Valen tensing next to me, and I placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing.
“DNA comparison will take forty-eight hours. But his height, build and facial structure match his records from the institution.” Detective Flores sounded confident, so I tried to let myself relax.
It was him. It had to be.
“Between you and me, Ashford? This feels right. The timeline fits, the MO matches, and he had trophies from all victims. This is our guy.”
My stomach clenched at the word “trophies.” “What happens now?”
“FBI will process the evidence, finalize the charges and hopefully be able to give you and the other families some closure. You’ll hear from me or the FBI as soon as we know.”
I hung up, tossing the phone back onto the couch. “Forty-eight hours,” I murmured, glancing around the cabin.
The windows were blacked out, hidden weapons spread throughout the space. We’d turned Valen’s love shack into a battleground.
“What do you think?” I motioned around the cabin. “Take it all down?”
Valen tapped his fingers against my thigh, watching me closely. Something in his face shifted, his jaw unclenching just slightly. “Yeah, little lamb. Let’s do it.”
*** ***
“Who knew dismantling booby traps with your boyfriend could be so romantic.” I bumped my shoulder against Valen’s as we walked around the cabin.
“Boyfriend, huh?” Valen raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips as he pulled on his gloves.
“What would you prefer? Vivacious lover? Partner in crime? My viciously handsome Viking overlord who saved me from freezing to death, then taught me the fine art of self-defense and home security?” I grinned, throwing the duffel bag over my shoulder. “Because I’m pretty open to any of those.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound making my heart do that weird thing it did when he was happy. “Viking overlord? Seriously?”
“You’ve got the whole brooding, ax-wielding thing down pretty pat. Let’s not forget your aura of barely contained violence too. Very Viking, if you ask me.”
“You’ve never seen me use an ax, little lamb.”
“I’ve seen you use a hatchet. Close enough.” I chuckled as he untied one of the tripwires.
He paused what he was doing to look up at me, his face softening. “You’re happy.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.
“Yeah.” I grinned. “I think I’m starting to remember how to be.”
We spent the next hour undoing the wires and gathering the cans. The snow had been melting and was at a reasonable level where I no longer got winded walking twenty feet. “Look, I didn’t set any off this time. Progress.”
“Don’t get carried away. You still have to watch out for your own two feet.” Valen winked as he undid the last wire.
“Ha-ha,” I mocked, not trying to hide my smile.
I liked us like this. It was… normal—well, minus the dismantling booby traps.
But the conversation, the feeling of being around him without any pressure, it was…
right. There were still a lot of unknowns.
A part of me worried about what was going to happen once it really set in that Cyrus was no longer a threat.
Would Valen still want me? Or would he realize that we were only bonded by trauma and want to get rid of me?
The need to tell him I loved him clawed at me, but the anxiety of not knowing if he felt the same way was enough to keep my lips sealed.
So instead, I picked up a pile of snow while his back was turned and hurled it at him.
He whipped around with a speed I wasn’t expecting, making me take a step back.
“Did you just throw a snowball at me?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice that I was starting to get really familiar with.
“And if I did?” I quirked my brow, fully aware that I was poking the bear.
He took a step forward. “There are consequences for your actions, little lamb.”
My thighs squeezed together at the way his gaze dragged over me. “What kind of consequences?” I murmured.
“The kind that leave your ass bright red.” He took another step toward me, and I backed up.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I scoffed. My eyes widened as he closed the distance between us before I could even blink.