Chapter 29
NATHAN
Imight have had very little experience in dealing with people, and even less when it came to relationships, but even I knew it was never a good thing when your boyfriend said you needed to talk and then brushed you off.
Okay. I knew he didn’t brush me off. He was at work.
Hunting a serial killer.
No, he was hunting me.
We’d been avoiding each other the last few days. It didn’t bode well for our relationship, or for my anxiety over whether or not he suspected me of being the killer after our run-in at the office earlier in the week.
Fuck. I hated lying to him. But there was no way I could tell my homicide detective boyfriend the truth. I didn’t even want to imagine how that conversation would go.
But I did know how it would end. With me in prison for life.
He had to know.
So, that begged the question, what was I still doing in town? Why hadn’t I fled? There were safe houses I had prepped all over the country. I could easily flee.
It all came down to Aiden.
I couldn’t leave him. Just the thought made my chest feel tight, like I couldn’t breathe.
There had to be a way to get him to accept me. But I knew it would be impossible. The ethics violation of his job alone would keep him bound to the law and turning me in. No matter how much I wished to the contrary, his whole life didn’t revolve around me and he wouldn’t choose me.
Even if I would choose him.
Though, maybe I could figure out a way to get him to quit.
I had enough money that he didn’t need to work.
Hell, I didn’t need to work. It wasn’t like I did much of the work; it was more like overseeing—making sure the things I wanted to get done actually got done. And that they were done correctly.
Of course, that didn’t solve the problem with his morals, but it would solve the problem with the ethics of his job.
Who was I kidding? He’d never go for it. As soon as he had confirmation, he’d think I was a monster.
He’d know I was a monster.
Despite the fact it had only been a couple of days since I’d killed, my skin felt tight and itchy. The kill hadn’t been satisfying at all, even though I’d killed someone who had dared to touch my little bird and made him uncomfortable. I had thought he would have been the most satisfying.
Instead, I felt empty.
I’d killed for Aiden, but I could never tell him about it.
He could never know what I did for him. But I wasn’t stupid enough to believe he’d never find out, even if he wasn’t the one working the guy’s case.
He was smart. Finding killers was his job, so did I really think the two of us could have a forever, especially one where he never knew the truth?
The thought was nothing but a fantasy.
But I couldn’t kill him. I should. But I couldn’t. I’d already proven that time and time again. I set my little bird free every time I’d set my sights on him.
Frustrated from the lack of thrill from the kill, my thoughts drifted back to Aiden, and the knowledge that one day I might have to kill him, even if it killed me.
No. I knew I couldn’t do it. I’d already proven that fact. For whatever reason, I couldn’t touch him.
The war raged within me. This kaleidoscope of fear, doubt, and even what I dared to hope was love. But it was all crashing down on me. And I was powerless to stop it because even though I had the means to escape, I no longer had the will. Not when it meant leaving my little bird behind.
I grabbed my phone and tried to doom-scroll my worries away. But nothing could distract me. The longer it took to hear back from Aiden, the more my agitation and fear grew.
After a half-hour of cat videos that did nothing to soothe my nerves, I finally decided I needed a way to expel some of the excess energy. The last thing I needed was to unleash some of that onto Aiden when we talked.
Because that was all we could do. I’d have to be strong and find a way to deny him when he undoubtedly asked me to come over. There was no way I could have this conversation face-to-face. I didn’t need to see the heartbreak and betrayal on his face.
Or be an easy target for him to arrest.
Not that I would resist if, or when, he found me. I’d never risk hurting him.
Growling in frustration, I made my way to my home gym and taped up my wrists and unleashed on my punching bag. I worked up a sweat for over an hour, throwing punch after punch. But while I was physically drained, my mind still raced.
Thoughts of Aiden were still there, at the forefront of my mind. All the lies I’d told him. The half-truths. The scars.
And there’d be so many more I caused him. Because not all scars were visible on the skin.
I flinched at the thought of inflicting any more damage to him.
Leaning against the wall, I ripped the tape off my hands and wrists and slid down until I was sitting. I’d never felt so alone, so unsure. My whole body felt like it was being torn apart. But I had no one to blame but myself.
Didn’t I?
I knew that I really couldn’t blame myself. That I’d been born the way I was and no medications I’d been prescribed were able to curb my impulses, no matter how much my parents, or I, tried.
A sob escaped my lips and I reached up a shaky hand to my face, surprised to find tears wetting my cheeks. I’d never cried before. Not even when my parents had died, and that had been the first time I had felt true emotion, a sadness that had dug its claws into me and didn’t want to let go.
I wiped the tears away and refused to dwell on what they meant. There wouldn’t be another incident like that time. I couldn’t go into another meltdown, not with Aiden so close.
My stomach growled and it gave me something to focus on. I stood and went over to the bench, where I’d tossed my phone, and scrolled through a food delivery app for something appealing. Finally, I settled on Chinese, still ordering enough for two, even though I had no intention of seeing Aiden.
But I couldn’t stop myself from getting his favorites. Maybe I could sneak it over there and have it waiting on his porch, or even his counter, for when he got home.
With plenty of time until the food arrived, I eyed the rest of the equipment but shook my head, deciding against working out any more.
My shoulders had started to feel the burn and I didn’t want to overdo it, especially since I didn’t know what the talk with Aiden would entail.
Instead, I wandered back to the living room and fell onto the couch, letting my head fall back.
As I sat there, worry churned in my gut. I couldn’t believe that I was at the point where I was considering myself lucky if it was only a breakup talk. Though, before our run-in at the office, I thought things had been going great. Not that I was a good judge of any of that.
I let out a sigh and scrubbed my hands over my face.
Maybe it would be for the best if he did break up with me.
I was dangerous to be around, especially with the way I’d been feeling the last couple weeks.
My control had been slipping and I didn’t know how to get it back.
The only difference in my life and routine had been Aiden.
Having him near messed with me, but not having him near messed with me even more.
A few minutes later, the doorbell interrupted my spiral. I walked to the door and opened it to see a man who looked to be in his early twenties, probably in college, if I had to make a guess.
“Hey,” I greeted the man at the door, who held the bag with my food as I put my hand in my pocket to grab my wallet, but it wasn’t there. “Sorry, I think I left my wallet in the kitchen. Would you mind following me?”
He looked around and shrugged. “Sure.”
I walked back the way I’d come, past the living room and dining room, toward the kitchen.
It didn’t escape my notice that the man gawked at the place as he trailed after me.
I smirked, knowing I had a great house where the interior had been fully customized with exposed beams, hardwood, and polished concrete flooring, with large throw rugs around.
My furniture was plush and extravagant, as I was a creature built for comfort.
The perks of being rich. Not to mention, a developer and having the best contacts for contractors, designers, and architects.
Sometimes, it was great to be me.
“This is a really nice house,” he gushed as we made our way into the industrial kitchen with the double stoves, large farm sink, and an island that went on for days.
If I had a kitchen like this, I wouldn’t be ordering takeout,” he joked as he put the bag on the island and turned to get a view of the rest of the house while I grabbed my wallet.
“Thanks. And yeah, I know what you mean. The kitchen is fabulous. And I do love using it, but some days, you just prefer to have someone else do the cooking.” I chuckled as I reached for my wallet.
But then, at the last moment, I changed course and grabbed a short, thin, and very sharp knife from the block and quietly made my way to where he had moved to the doorway to continue admiring the house.
I snuck up behind him and had one arm wrapped around his neck, tilting his head back just as I brought the knife up, before he even knew what was happening.
“What?” I could feel him struggle and my monster roared to life. Anticipation bloomed under my skin, eager for the kill.
“I’m sorry. It’s nothing personal.” My blade had just started to slide across his delicate throat when his hands grabbed at me in a vain attempt to pull me off.
At that moment, I also heard the front door slam and the sound of a single set of footsteps pounding on the floor, getting closer.
But I couldn’t stop. The knife was already across his throat, his blood spurting from the open wound and coating my hands. There would be such a mess to clean up. Not to mention, there would be a trail from me ordering the food and the driver coming to my house.
Shit. I hadn’t thought this through. I hadn’t thought any of this through.
“Jesus! What the fuck, Nate?” Aiden’s panicked voice cut through my thoughts, and my eyes darted up at him as he pulled his gun and aimed it at me.
For a moment, I wondered if he would shoot me on sight. But not my little bird. He was a good cop. A fair cop. Even though I was clearly armed and in the middle of a murder, he still would give me a chance.
“Drop the fucking knife, Nate. Now.” His voice wavered almost as badly as his hands as he stared at me like he had no idea who I was.
Fuck.