Chapter 33
C assie
A knock at the apartment door had me skipping to answer it. Riordan was at work, and I had been down in the brothel all afternoon and evening, but had been summoned upstairs by Manny telling me I needed to be in for a delivery.
I flung open the door to find the security chief in the hall with another two crew members. Between them, they hefted a big, linen-coloured sofa.
Stepping back, I made way for them. “Where did this come from?”
Manny had them set it down in the middle of the floor. It was pristine, like the wrapping had just come off it.
“I’m just the messenger.”
Another crew member followed. I squinted at what he carried.
“Is that a nest of tables?”
“And a lamp.” Manny retrieved the last item from the hall. “Happy with where we’ve put it?”
Slowly, I nodded. “Sure, but?—”
“Then job done. Best get back downstairs.”
He ushered the guys out. I called a quick thanks, shutting the door after them, still entirely confused.
A text message pinged my phone.
Riordan: I’ll be upstairs in half an hour so get ready for a cosy evening in. Clothes optional after dinner.
My heart thumped. He’d done this. Of course he had. The ceramic white-and-gold lamp, close in design to the one I had in my Great House apartment, provided a warm light over the soft couch. I set it on one of the little tables, another reserved for whatever food he was bringing home, and the last holding my laptop.
Against the red-brick walls and dark exposed steel of the apartment, his decor made it so snug. So pretty.
Riordan returned with two big bags plus his bike helmet in his hands. He stole a kiss then took the bags to the kitchen counter, the three pendant lamps highlighting him in bright detail.
“Sorry I went biking without you, little backpack. I had things to fetch.”
He shucked his leathers then unpacked his rucksack, bringing out a skull.
I blinked at it. “Who’s that?”
Riordan smirked then lifted it to show the barcode on the bottom. He flipped the hot tap to fill the sink, adding dish soap and setting the skull down in the water. Next from his bag he brought a box of cutlery and two wide bowls, giving it all a clean.
A tea towel followed, and he dried up then arranged the knives, forks, and spoons in the skull—damn, it was a cutlery holder—then set the bowls on the higher countertop.
Riordan unpacked the food next, two cartons of pasta landing side by side.
Mystified at the unexpected domesticity, I drifted over. “I thought ye didn’t want to move in with me?”
“I’m not. Just wanted to make you more comfortable.”
Damn the tightening in my chest and damn my heart for wishing he’d said the opposite.
Then I took a deep inhale, picking up more than just the meal.
Pink stained his cheeks. “What?”
“Are ye wearing aftershave?”
That almost shy smile returned. “Maybe. Do you like it?”
I knew nothing about men’s perfume, but the one he’d picked out hit a place deep inside my brain and sent me dizzy with lust. “It makes me want to devour ye.”
Riordan hid a smile and rifled through the rucksack for one last item. He pulled out a blanket, folded and with a ribbon around it, handed it over, then jerked his chin at the sofa. “Throw that over the back of the couch. It’s to keep you warm once we’ve eaten and are watching TV.”
My heart hurt all the more. In the past couple of days, I’d made idle comments about needing furniture but having no time to get any. We’d been busy, with endless work to do and our downtime spent all over each other or sleeping.
Aside from Riordan’s secret jaunts out.
At the end of his shifts, he’d take off for an hour or two before coming home to me. Obviously, I watched him the whole time using the tracker on his bike. He’d been to Town Hall where Everly used to work and their father still did, then out to the fancy streets where the mayor lived. He was plotting something.
In time, he’d tell me. I was certain.
But until then, I was desperate to enjoy the romantic evening he’d designed.
“Put down the food,” I ordered.
Two lines appeared on his forehead, but he set down the carton he’d started to open and faced me. I tossed the blanket then leapt at him, banding my arms and legs around him and holding him tight. My pulse raced.
“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
He chuffed and stroked my back. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s everything. I love this. I love ye.”
Emotion flared in his eyes. “Say that again.”
“I love ye so much it hurts.”
His smile broke my heart. Riordan needed my words like he needed air. Like I needed him.
I kissed him again. “I just need you to know what this means to me. I love the warehouse, but you’ve just made it into a home.”
Him . Not the objects he’d bought with his hard-earned money. His presence. His biker boots beside the door. His clothes on the floor by the bed.
Riordan smiled into the kiss then carried me to the sofa. Then he put me down, dislodging my wandering hands. “Romance first, devouring later.”
“But…”
“I want us to exist side by side for one evening without the entirety of it being spent fucking.”
“I really like the fucking.”
“I do, too.”
“You’re going to make me wait for it?”
“At least until after we’ve eaten.”
He shrugged then went to fetch the food, unaware of exactly what he was doing to my heart.
Handing me a bowl of steaming pasta, Riordan indicated to my laptop. “We continuing with your telenovela? I’ve been wondering what Alexia’s husband is up to.”
Slowly, I nodded, and he set it up, cuddling up alongside me as he wolfed down the food.
It was hard to pull my attention off him in order to eat.
Riordan shovelled in big forkfuls like he’d been starved. “We’ve just discovered that Alexia’s husband is her lover’s dad, right? Eduardo had the picture on his wall which was her clue.”
The next episode started with the heroine outside an office building, clipping briskly along in her sky-high heels and her fingers shaking as she approached the revolving door.
“Alexia,” a shout chased her.
She twisted around.
Eduardo pursued her from his sports car. “Why did you run from me?”
“You shouldn’t have followed me. I need to find out the truth.”
She burst into tears, and Eduardo scooped her up into his arms. She beat him with her hands.
“Put me down. No one can see us like this.”
“Why are you here? What’s wrong?”
She raised her tearstained face to his. “I wish I’d never met you.”
“You’re breaking my heart. All I want is to keep you. I agreed to a time limit of a month in the hope that you’d fall in love with me, like I have you. Please tell me why you can’t.”
Alexia stilled. “No. You can’t love me.”
The show cut to a montage of their secret dates, their sexy evenings, their steamy messages. Eduardo tumbling into love with the beautiful Alexia. Inevitable. Laid out for us all to witness.
My fork stalled.
Riordan and I had a time limit. Ten days, we’d agreed. I’d almost forgotten. What were we on now, maybe day seven? Eight? I’d lost track.
Likewise, Riordan had stopped eating, though he was near the bottom of his bowl. His gaze slid to me. “It’s your birthday at the end of the week.”
Day ten. The end of our agreement. I inclined my head.
His hopeful gaze held mine. “Can I give you a present?”
“Ye just bought me furniture. A blanket.” I plucked at the dark-blue fleecy material behind my head. It blew my mind. I had exactly zero idea of what things cost and how much he got paid, but I was suspicious that it must’ve wiped out his bank account.
“I have something else in mind.”
“Okay,” I breathed. I’d make Arran give him a raise.
His lips quirked in a boyish smile, and he returned his gaze to the screen. The lamplight made him golden. I couldn’t have loved him more if I tried.
Alexia finally gave her explanation to her lover. “Our time is up because my husband is coming home today. He’s in there now, debriefing from his trip.”
Eduardo’s thick eyebrows merged. “My father works in there.”
Alexia stayed quiet.
His eyes widened. “They work together? Your husband and my father?”
Deathly pale, Alexia shook her head. “They’re the same person.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s the truth.”
“It’s impossible because he’s married. He has a wife and two young children. They live abroad. That’s why I hardly ever see him, but we video called a few days ago and he was with them.”
Alexia’s eyes showed her shock, and her mouth opened but no words came out. Abruptly, she fainted. Eduardo caught her.
Another man ran over. “Take your hands off my wife.” His words dried up. “Son?”
The programme went to adverts, and I leapt up and took my half-eaten food to the kitchen, putting it in the fridge. Riordan’s empty bowl went in the sink to be dealt with later. Then I returned to him.
Like in Alexia’s startling moment of realisation, my hands shook.
As soon as I was near enough, Riordan reached for me and settled me on his lap, my knees either side of his hips. I held his face, staring into his eyes like I could see what I was suspecting. Arran’s game allowed thirty days for a couple to fall in love. I’d settled on ten so I didn’t risk Riordan’s heart. It was too soon. Then again, I’d fallen in love at first sight.
And I still hadn’t fallen out.
“What’s going on behind those blue eyes?” he asked, low and sweet.
A whole lot of soul-searching over what I had to do next. Instead of voicing any of it, I kissed him. The rest of the night vanished into showing him with my body all the things I couldn’t say.
The following afternoon, I sent a message to my Skeleton Girls Detective Agency group.
Everything felt…strange. Distant, almost. Like I needed to surface and draw in air.
Cassie: Detective girls report in. Are you around to meet me at my old bedroom?
Everly: Absolutely! On my way.
Genevieve: I was beginning to think you were avoiding us. See you there.
I pocketed my phone in my playsuit, slipping on a pair of heels, and grabbed up my embroidery sample—the hobby I’d neglected. Genevieve wasn’t wrong. I’d been avoiding my girls because of their brother. The night he and I had got together, I’d told them with glee, but we hadn’t been alone since. I couldn’t face them for fear that I was lying to them.
On the other hand, my adoration of Riordan was only getting stronger. Not burning out. Not fading. I was endlessly interested in him. That tight feeling in my chest when he came home to me, or when he did things that showed me he wanted to be around, all resolved into a feeling of rightness.
It gave me hope that this wouldn’t go away. That I’d bucked the trend of my faddiness and impulsivity. I’d even booked a phone session with my therapist to help me work through my fear. I hated therapy. Every appointment had made me feel sick for days before and after, even though it helped. I’d only gone for the sake of Lottie. Now I was doing it for Riordan. And myself. I couldn’t let this end.
On the cam girls’ floor, I reached the room to find Genevieve already inside, staring up at the detective wall. She too clutched her sampler, half the stitches done.
I held mine up. “Ye did better than me.”
Genevieve set hers alongside it so we could compare. “For something as simple as stabbing holes in cloth and tying knots in thread, this was surprisingly hard to be good at. I’ve never felt so rage-filled as when my stitches went off at angles and I had to start again. Even with all that effort, this was the result. It looks like something a toddler did.”
I held in a laugh. “Right? That’s why I only managed four. It made me want to commit murder.”
“Don’t you want to do that anyway?”
“More murder, I mean. Me doing hobby craft is bad for the human race.”
Everly entered the room. She’d brought her sampler as well, and I tilted it up. Every stitch had been done perfectly, all the colours correct, and no loose threads.
I goggled at her. “That’s immaculate. You’re a witch.”
Genevieve whistled. “Guess you’ve found your hobby then.”
“Thank you, but actually, I didn’t love it in the way I hoped. I’ve ordered us something else to try. We’re learning knitting next.”
I sighed in relief. “Bigger needles have to be easier, right?”
Genevieve’s answer came out dry. “Or it’ll put a ready-made killing tool in your hand for when we inevitably fuck it up.”
Everly giggled then regarded the wall. “Are we here to take this down?”
We all turned to the map of Deadwater and the strings connecting the different locations. Like our stitches, they crisscrossed in a pattern. Alongside, we’d written out cards for the victims and a list of the suspects. So much effort had gone into this. Far more than I’d put into our craft activity, though equally, it had turned out to be of no use.
Reluctantly, I nodded. “I guess so. It’s a shame, but it’s not needed anymore. We can give the room back to the warehouse.”
We set down our embroidery then moved in on the detective map, Everly starting on the suspects while Genevieve unpinned the string.
I reached for the first murder victim card. Cherry. Killed on the church steps. “Bronson never said why he targeted each particular woman, but I guess Cherry was easy pickings for him.”
Genevieve’s shoulders slumped. “I really loathe that. I hate that she worked the streets and not here where it would’ve been safe for her. I saw her not long before she died and I wish I could go back in time and protect her. She was so vulnerable.”
I collected another. “With Amelia, I think he was stalking the mayor and happened to see her going into the dark mansion. Does that add up?”
Everly’s eyes showed her sadness. “I saw Amelia outside my neighbours’ house a few times. She smoked, and did so sitting on the front steps. He must have spotted her doing that and snuck in after her.”
“Alisha would have been a prize for him.” I plucked the next card and added it to my collection. “We still don’t know who planted the note, and I guess we never will, but it was on his order.”
Genevieve clucked her tongue. “Arran thinks it was done by one of the dancers. Possibly as a favour to Sydney who used to work here but defected to Red’s brothel. She’s the woman my father was dating, though I’ve no idea if he still is. Arran believes whoever left the note is too scared now to admit it, or maybe isn’t even aware of what they did. He’s let it drop because they caught Bronson.”
That same scared person had left a note for me. Musing on that, I unstuck the last card. Natasha’s. I squinted at it. She’d been a visitor to the city, here to take part in Arran’s game, but turned on the warehouse and caused a scene in Divine.
My mind shifted on to the scene of her murder. There was CCTV footage of the crime. The stolen car that squealed up to the warehouse. The body dumped out of the back.
A detail snagged my attention.
I faced my friends. “What comes to mind when ye think of Bronson? Physically, I mean.”
Genevieve wrinkled her pretty nose and wound the string into a ball. “He was an addict. Opiates, I think, plus coke and weed. Probably not healthy.”
“He was a big man. Heavy and muscular, even in his fifties,” Everly added. She had a stack of papers, all the suspects gone and half the Deadwater map down now, plain wall remaining.
The strange sense of intuition strengthened. I held up Natasha’s card. “Yet that big, cumbersome man climbed through his car to dump a body out the back. He didn’t open his door, run around, and lift her free. Instead, he chose a far more difficult route, one which would take longer.”
“Presumably so he wouldn’t be seen,” Genevieve suggested.
“Sure, but clambering over car seats? That would be hard. The engine was still in reverse gear and squealing. It doesn’t make sense to do that.”
All three of us swapped confused looks.
Everly spoke first. “Except he confessed. I didn’t watch the video, but Connor told me how he gave up the truth. He wouldn’t do that unless he was guilty. I guess he had a moment of agility and a reason to take the path he took. We’ll never know, but that doesn’t make it impossible.”
My shoulders slumped. I dropped my gaze to the paper. “It just feels off somehow.”
She gave a soft smile. “I was caught for days on the fact that he’d been tortured, and hurt people do strange things. If he was so deranged by the pain, he’d say anything to make it stop, but the fact is, he’s a viable suspect, which the evidence pointed to, and he confessed. He said those words. He could’ve bargained his freedom in other ways. I don’t think this is wrong. But more to the point, the murders have stopped. If someone else did it, they wouldn’t let him take the credit. Not after all they’d done to get that attention.”
Damn. She made sense. I heaved a sigh.
Genevieve bumped her shoulder into mine. “I understand. I feel it as well. I wanted to stare at this map then work it out from all the clues we’d gathered. But the fact is, the murderer has been found and he’s off the streets. He can’t hurt anyone ever again. It’s a shame we didn’t get our eureka moment, but it’s better that we’re all safe.”
She meant me. I’d been the next target.
Maybe that’s why this was still bothering me.
We continued the removal of our evidence and were almost finished when my phone buzzed. It interrupted Everly filling us in on her plans for further events at the warehouse, and I apologised, but she waved me away when I read the name on the screen.
Shade spoke without preamble. “Can ye come down to the office? I have something to share.”
“Give me five.” I hung up. “Shade wants to talk to me downstairs. I’m going to have to cut and run.”
Genevieve nodded. “It’s cool. I can’t hang around either. I need to borrow my brother for a while. Our dad, I mean my dad, has gone AWOL again, and when I mentioned it to Riordan earlier, he said he’d come with me to the flat. Arran’s busy, and it would be just me with an armed guard otherwise.”
“I hope ye find him.”
She sighed. “I do, too.”
At the lift, Everly hugged me. “My apartment, tonight. I have knitting supplies and instructions to follow. I’ll also show you my latest new video obsession.”
“Which is?”
Her eyes lit. “People doing magic tricks to monkeys in zoos. I mean, I hate the poor animals being in cages, but you should see their reactions. It’s adorable, and it shows just how intelligent they are.” She bit her lip. “I also have some other news to share.”
I stared at her. A while back, when we’d caught and mildly tortured Piers, Everly had told him she was pregnant in order for him to fully comprehend that she’d never be his bride. After, she’d taken me and Genevieve aside to say she’d been jumping the gun, but her choice of words was very telling.
My grin spread. “One friend engaged, the other about to reveal another big secret. We are living our best lives.”
My family had gone nuts at the sly announcement of Arran proposing to Genevieve, done while he’d talked to the crowd before the last game. Arran had refused a bachelor party, and knowing my brothers that was a good decision, but told them they all needed to come to the wedding.
“I love weddings so much. They always make me cry.” Everly took Genevieve’s hand and examined the pretty, sparkling ring which matched her choker.
The apples of Genevieve’s cheeks reddened, and happiness shone from her. “I’d love your help in preparing for it. Arran wants to set a date soon. A shotgun ceremony then a big party here. It’s one of the reasons I want to see my dad. Not particularly to have him attend, but so that he knows and doesn’t hear it from anyone else.”
Everly beamed. “I’m in.”
I swung my gaze between them. “Wait, can I be as well?”
Genevieve cocked her head. “Sure, if you tell me you’ll be my brother’s date. He isn’t sleeping in his car anymore. Is he staying with you?”
She leaned in, the question clearly very close to the surface.
The lift arrived. I hopped in.
“I’ll get back to you on that. Gotta go. Love ye both.”
They wore twin frowns as the door closed, and I cracked up.
On my way down to the management office, I had another text.
Riordan: Just so you know, I’m heading out with Gen this evening. In case you miss me.
Cassie: I always miss you. Even when I’m with you. Strangest feeling.
Riordan: Stop being sweet or I’ll have to come and steal you away for an hour or two.
Cassie: You’d prefer me to be sour?
Riordan: With the shit you pull, I guess I’m into it either way.
Exiting the lift, I smiled then remembered something else I needed to say.
Cassie: Just in case it happens when I’m not around, I asked my brother to talk to you about the cops situation. He’s going to hunt you down.
Riordan: Ominous.
Cassie: He promised to be nice.
Riordan: I’ll take your word for it. If I never see you again, your pussy was the sweetest thing I ever tasted.
With a shiver, I stowed my phone and knocked on the office door.
Shade called me in. Alone in the space, he regarded me from across the desk. The visitor spotlight shone in my eyes, so I flipped it downward. Stupid interrogation light.
“I found out some information this evening that I think you’ll find interesting.”
That twinge of intuition returned. “Regarding Bronson?”
His eyes darkened. “Piers Roache.”
Shade picked up a tablet and held it out.
I took it, open on some kind of report. “What is this?”
“A secret and illegal database that exists between the owners of clubs like ours. We use it to check members against.”
I scanned the details. “I’ve heard ye talk about this. It contains men who have hurt or abused women in other clubs, right?”
“Correct. Piers was already listed on here, and I’ve been monitoring it since we gave him his warning.”
As part of our actions to get Piers to leave Everly alone, I’d sliced into his dick. Filmed him begging and posted it online with his name so anyone who searched on him could find it. Any potential future girlfriend. Anyone he was trying to get close to. Each time the posts got taken down, I popped them right back up again.
But the warning we’d given him was what drew fire through my blood. “We told him that if he hurt anyone else, we’d come after him.”
Shade gave a dark, cruel smile that should’ve chilled me. It was like looking in a mirror. “Read the update.”
I returned my gaze to the text. “Roache entered GGG as a guest of another member. He gave a fake name and had fake ID. Our mistake that we allowed it.” I squinted at Shade. “What’s GGG?”
“Girls Girls Girls. A club in Newcastle. Read on.”
“He purchased time with two dancers and a private room, told them to put on a show then to fuck him. One of them noticed scabs on his dick. Club policy is no visible illness and protection is always used. The girls refused him. He got angry and struck out. One of the girls escaped. By the time security arrived, he was raping the second.”
My heart pounded. I quickly scanned the lines describing how Piers had escaped, and they’d only identified him days later using video footage.
When I was done, my hands shook. “He raped a woman. He broke the terms of our agreement.”
“He did.”
“We should’ve killed him.”
“Agreed. He’s back in Deadwater again in a couple of days, attending some big thing the mayor is putting on. If ye want him, he’s yours. We’ll get him the night before the event.”
“The police won’t take him?”
He smiled. “It hasn’t been reported. I told the club we’d handle it for good, whether by your hand or mine. The woman he attacked agreed to it and said to stick the knife where it hurts.”
My certainty flared, bloodlust rising. Piers was mine, and my first kill would be worthy.