34. Kennedy
Kennedy
Two months later
The rooftop bar buzzed with warmth and laughter, string lights twinkling overhead like stars. Boston stretched out behind us, the river glinting in the distance and headlights moving below like veins lit up in gold.
Freya was surrounded by a group of people near the bar, glass in hand, laughing at something her cousin was talking about. I’d drifted toward the balcony to look out at the skyline.
Arms slid around my waist from behind. Malachi. His chin brushed my shoulder, voice warm and low at my ear. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. “Best New True Crime Podcast and the People’s Choice Award for Best Overall? That’s huge.”
I smiled, resting my hands over his. “It’s amazing. But at the same time, I feel like a bit of a fraud,” I admitted. “I mean, we only went viral because of you secretly buying those ads for us in the beginning.”
He snorted. “Kennedy, every podcast up for that award used marketing campaigns to launch. You really don’t need to feel guilty about it,” he said. “Then again, I guess that’s easy for me to say, right? But not so easy for you in practice.”
“Yeah, to be honest, I’m a little jealous of your ability to so rarely feel guilt,” I murmured, turning in his arms to face him.
Malachi’s voice turned lower, more tender.
“You and Freya earned that prize. You both worked your asses off for the show in a million different ways.” He paused and shrugged slightly, lips twitching.
“And no one ever needs to know that the story we told at the end was a complete fabrication. Because it wouldn’t be true crime then, would it? ”
A slow smile spread across my face. “Our dirty little secret.”
Malachi smiled back, but something was flickering behind his eyes now. “Do you ever regret it?” he asked. “Lying about so much to cover everything up?”
“Nope. That’s one thing you won’t catch me feeling guilty about.” I lifted my chin. “I don’t regret a single thing I did that night, or anything since. Because I did it for you.”
His smile returned, softer this time. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I love you too.”
He glanced back toward the bar. “Want another drink?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
As he stepped away, Freya sidled up beside me, her brows raised.
“I know it’s been ages, but I still can’t get over the fact that you two are together now,” she said, eyes trailing Malachi.
“It’s like a romance movie or something.
Handsome hero rescues damsel in distress, and they ride off into the sunset together. ”
I laughed softly, the sound catching in my throat.
If only she knew that the so-called damsel in distress had driven a knife into her father’s neck so she could run back into the arms of the man who’d stalked and kidnapped her.
Not so much of a romance movie after all. At least not any kind I’d seen. But it was still a love story, albeit a dark, twisted one. And it was completely, irrevocably ours.
“You know, speaking of romance,” I said, nudging Freya’s arm with a smirk. “You still haven’t told me who that mystery man of yours was.”
“Was, or is ?” a familiar voice chimed in from my right.
I turned, eyes widening. Dec stood there, hands in his pockets, lips curved in a sheepish grin.
Freya gave me a guilty look, then stepped closer to him and laced her fingers through his. “We didn’t want to hide it from you anymore,” she said. “So we figured tonight was the night to tell you.”
My eyes bounced between them. “Okay, this is a plot twist.”
“Are you mad?” Freya asked, her smile faltering slightly. “We wanted to tell you sooner, but—”
“Mad? No!” I said quickly. “I’m just shocked. I mean… how? When?”
Dec chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you remember the day you helped me unpack my stuff? And you caught me with your phone?”
“Yeah...”
“Well, I wasn’t lying when I said I had your phone because Freya called. But I wasn’t totally honest with you either.”
I tilted my head slightly, brows lifting. “Go on.”
“After we spoke, I couldn’t stop thinking about how damn sexy she sounded,” he said, grinning. “So then I started wondering what she looked like now that she was all grown up. I tried to find her on Instagram, but her profile was locked. That’s why I… uhh… borrowed your phone again.”
“So he could stalk my account from your profile and creep on my bikini pictures,” Freya said, gently elbowing his side.
“Exactly,” Dec said. “And once I saw her, that was it. Couldn’t get her out of my head.”
“He sent me a follow request later, and then he DMed me,” Freya added. “Then we started chatting, and one thing led to another.”
I looked between them again, heart warming. “Why didn’t you guys tell me sooner?”
Dec’s grin faded slightly. “Honestly, I was worried about jumping into another relationship, because I was still fresh off a divorce,” he said. “I thought it was better to take things slow and move quietly. So we didn’t tell anyone at all.”
“We both thought it was for the best,” Freya added. “Because I wasn’t sure if I was ready for anything serious either. But then we just couldn’t help it. Things ended up… happening.”
“There were other reasons for hiding it from you, too,” Dec said. “We figured you might think it was weird, seeing as I’m your stepbrother and all.”
I shrugged. “I don’t think it’s weird.”
“Well, it wasn’t just the fact that you guys are family,” Freya said. “We also thought you might think the age gap was weird.”
I smiled and glanced over at Malachi, who was still waiting at the bar. “My boyfriend is almost nine years older than me. So don’t worry, I think I’m all good with age gaps.”
“Yeah, but we’re nine and a half years apart,” Dec said, grinning again. “That’s totally different, right?”
I snorted. “Oh, sure, massive difference there. A total scandal.”
Freya laughed softly. “So… you’re not mad?”
“Of course not! I’m happy for you guys,” I said. Then I leaned in, lowering my voice a little. “But hey… don’t let him have too much beer. He might break into your house and fix your car.”
Dec groaned. “Never gonna let me live that one down, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “All right, I’m going to leave you two to roast me while I grab another drink,” he said. “And don’t worry, it’s just soda water and lime. I’m the designated driver tonight.”
As soon as Dec wandered off toward the bar, Freya turned back to me, her smile faltering just a little. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? Me and Dec, I mean.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes! Seriously. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy. You’re my best friend.”
A small, relieved smile curved up her lips. I reached out and squeezed her hand.
“You’re also kind of a genius, you know,” I added. “Best overall podcast, remember?”
She shrugged. “Hey, you did just as much work on it as I did.”
“No way! The show was your idea, and you’re the one who got everything going at the start,” I said. “To me, you’re the real MVP.”
Freya grinned, then swept her gaze slowly around the party.
“Speaking of the podcast… people here keep asking me what we’re doing next,” she said.
“Are we covering a new case? Sticking with the Carver Five? Doing another season at all? But I don’t know what to tell them, because you might not have much free time soon. Right?”
She was referring to a job offer I’d recently received from Eastview Community College in Corwin Bay. They’d asked me to teach an intro to history class.
The offer had come as a real shock, because I didn’t think any schools or colleges would touch me with a ten-foot pole now that the entire internet knew I was the daughter of a prolific serial killer.
Not to mention the fact that I was one half of a famous true crime podcast with my face plastered all over the place.
But apparently, Eastview didn’t mind my infamy at all.
“Don’t worry,” I said, smiling. “The job is part-time, mornings mostly, so I’ll still have afternoons and weekends free.”
Freya’s brows lifted. “So we’re not breaking up the band yet?”
“Not a chance.”
She beamed. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” she said. Then her eyes flicked toward the bar, where Malachi and Dec were deep in conversation. “Oh, I forgot to ask. Are you guys coming to the afterparty tonight?”
“No, sorry. I’m going on a ride-along with Malachi after this.”
Freya blinked. “You guys are seriously working tonight?”
“Well, he has to train a new recruit, and he offered to bring me along to see how things work. I figured it might give us some good material for the show.”
“In that case, I’ll allow it.” Freya gave me an impish grin. “Make sure you grill him about interesting cold cases, by the way, because I bet he’s got some killer ideas for us. Pun totally intended.”
The awards party began to wind down an hour later. After more congratulations, too many photos, and another glass of champagne, Malachi laced his fingers through mine.
“Ready?” he murmured.
“Always.”
We said our goodbyes and slipped out into the cool Boston night. The city buzzed loudly around us, but inside the car, it was quiet and comfortable.
“Where are we picking up the new recruit from?” I asked as I buckled in.
“That got canceled,” Malachi said, pulling onto the busy street. “Something came up.”
“Oh.” I frowned, then glanced sideways at him. “So… what are we doing instead? Afterparty?”
He gave me a sly smile and shook his head. “I’m taking you somewhere I think you’ll like. Might even be podcast-worthy.”
The way he said it made something stir in my chest. Curiosity, excitement, and the kind of thrill I only got with him.
The rest of the drive passed in a comfortable hush, broken only by the occasional hum of music on the radio and the rhythmic flick of the turn signal. Eventually, Malachi pulled onto a quiet, industrial road flanked by chain-link fences and warehouses long forgotten by the city.
“This place is kinda creepy,” I said, peering out the window.