Serial Killer at Your Service
Flynn
I pace up and down the street in front of Ana’s house. This was a bad idea. I should be keeping Hazel far away from this side of my life, not using her to help gather evidence on a rapist.
What if Ana tells Claren that Hazel visited? She signed an NDA, hell he paid her off, she could be working for him. Or she could do a simple google search, find out Hazel’s not a reporter, and then call the police on her. Fuck.
You’re spiraling, Flynny.
I stop walking and tip my head back, looking up at the clear sky and trying to calm myself. I’m not used to dealing with panic like this because I don’t usually feel things so strongly. Except when it comes to Hazel.
Hazel who makes sunbursts when she smiles. Who pulls me closer even as she fights me. Who rewrites the very anatomy of my brain.
Fuck it.
I spin on my heels and climb the steps to Ana’s porch. I’ve just taken out my lock picks when the door opens.
Hazel peers up at me, pressing a smile between her lips when she sees my lock picks. “Would you like to come in, Flynn?” she asks sweetly.
“Yes.”
She rolls her eyes and steps aside. “I was just coming to get you. I think Ana could do with reassuring that you’re not going to let Claren hurt her again.”
Hazel leads me down the corridor to a gaming room at the back of the house. Ana looks up from where she’s leaning against the desk, her eyes locking on me.
“Ana, this is Flynn, he’s—”
“I know who he is.” Her gaze sweeps over me but she doesn’t look scared. “You’re the one killing members of the Kings Society.”
I dip my head in acknowledgment because there’s no point denying it. I trust Hazel wouldn’t have brought me in here if she thought Ana was going to give me up.
Dry eyes glance at Hazel. “You’re not a reporter, are you?”
Hazel shifts on her feet, twisting her hands behind her back. “Not so much.”
Ana looks back at me. “Is Claren on your list?”
“He is.”
“But you want evidence.”
“I do.”
Ana breaks eye contact and puffs out a breath.
She sinks down into the desk chair, and her facade of bravery drains away.
“The Kings Society raped me, then they sent me a video of the whole thing, edited to make it look consensual.” She peers up at Hazel, a wry, pained smile on her lips.
“Guess they didn’t expect some girl to be quite as good with tech as I am.
I managed to hack into Claren’s system and find the original, unedited footage. ”
“You blackmailed him,” I say.
Ana gives a sharp shake of her head. “No. I mean yes, but no. I didn’t want the money, I haven’t touched it.
I just wanted to protect myself. I needed to know him and his sick society weren’t ever going to come near me again.
” Her throat bobs as she swallows and she plays with the wire from the headphones around her neck.
“I thought that would be enough to make me feel safe.”
“Was it?”
She looks at me, her eyes tired and scared. “I’ve moved fourteen times in eight years. I’d go out of state, but I still have family here. So no, it wasn’t enough.”
Hazel glances at me before going to Ana. “If you help us, we can make sure he can’t hurt you again. Do you still have the original video?”
Ana opens her mouth, but the words get stuck. She rubs her hands on her leggings and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry but I can’t.” Brown eyes shift to me. “I hope you bury the bastard, but I can’t help.”
“Ana,” Hazel tries but Ana stands up, cutting her off.
“This is my life. My life which I have spent running and hiding and waking up screaming. Every day I watch Claren rise through the political ranks and all I keep wondering is when I’m going to become too much of a liability.
Whether today will be the day he decides I’m better off under the ground because dead people can’t talk.
So, I’m sorry and I know it’s cowardly, but I won’t break the NDA. ”
Every trace of Ana’s pain and fear is etched into her face, and I watch the emotions tear at her. I may not be able to appreciate exactly how she’s feeling, but I can respect it. I won’t force any woman to do something they don’t want to do.
Beside me, Hazel shakes her head and I catch the scent of her shampoo, peach and vanilla. God, I could bathe in that scent. “It’s not cowardly, it’s smart,” Hazel says. “And you should never apologize for protecting yourself.” She points to a notepad on the desk. “May I?”
Ana nods and Hazel crosses to the desk. She scribbles something on the notepad and hands it to Ana. “My number, in case you need anything.”
“I’m going to kill him, Ana,” I say. “I promise you that.”
Hazel stares at me. “Maybe don’t go around announcing your murder plans to everyone?”
I rock back on my heels and lift my brows. “Are you sure? I was thinking I might call the police next, give them a heads up.”
Hazel rolls her eyes and snags my wrist, dragging me out into the hall, but not before I see Ana’s smirk.
Now, I just have to fix whatever is wrong with my Little Lilac.
I can tell before we’ve even left the house that she’s upset.
Her teeth are worrying her bottom lip and I can practically hear her thoughts.
I’ve never been so in tune with someone’s emotions before, but whatever Hazel is feeling seems to echo in my chest.
When we reach my bike she turns to me, her shoulders drooped, her hands tucked in her pockets.
“I’m sorry, I really thought she was going to help us.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come and got you, but I could tell she was scared and I thought maybe seeing you would help.
” Hazel screws up her face. “Because why wouldn’t meeting a serial killer make you feel safe?
Ugh, I’m such an idiot.” She drops her forehead against my chest.
I scowl, not liking her talking bad about herself. “Hey,” I say, curling my fingers under her chin. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Ana was never going to break that NDA. She’s too scared.”
“But now we still have no evidence against Claren.” Hazel scrunches her fingers around my shirt. “Argh, I hate that everyone thinks he’s this perfect, philanthropic guy.”
I get the sense that Hazel’s version of hate is less controlled than mine. My hate is a blade, a weapon I can use to cut my enemies. Hazel’s hate is a ball of jagged edges that she doesn’t know what to do with, so it just writhes in her chest, cutting her up.
“Come on,” I say, wanting to draw some of that pain away from her. “I want to take you somewhere.”
Hazel peers up at me, dark circles under her eyes. “Does is involve me getting back on the death machine?”
I do, eventually, persuade Hazel to get back on the motorcycle and she clings to me as we drive out of the suburbs and towards the waterfront.
The salt from the sea sinks into my skin and a dozen memories of Hope flash through my mind.
I take off my helmet and drink in the marine air, the smell of fish and fried dough as familiar to me as my own hands.
Hope used to eat an entire bag of donuts by herself, cradling the paper bag to her chest if I tried to swipe one.
I brush the memory away and help Hazel off the bike, taking her hand as we stroll down the boardwalk.
Up ahead the red and blue siding of Sailor’s Pier glints under the low sun, the Ferris wheel rising up behind it.
I haven’t been here since Hope died and part of me expects the pressure in my head to return but it never does when I’m with Hazel.
“Hope and I used to come here almost every day of summer when we were kids,” I tell her as we walk down past the beach. “We’d play on the coin machines for hours.”
“You guys were close.”
I squeeze her hand. “Very.”
Hazel slows to a stop, and I turn to look at her.
“Flynn, we don’t have to come here if it’s too much.”
“I want to share this with you,” I say. I wouldn’t dare bring anyone else here, it would feel like an intrusion, but with Hazel it’s different.
She worries her bottom lip again. “You’re sure?”
I pull her back towards me. “I’m sure,” I whisper against her lips.
We weave between the teenagers and parents with young children, heading to the coin machines first. After getting some change, I lead Hazel to the fifth one in the circle.
Quarters clink against the metal, falling in a rush, and Hazel squeals with delight. It’s only after the fifth consecutive time she wins that she twists her neck to look up at me, her light brown eyes narrowed. “Flynn Fletcher did you rig this machine?” she whispers.
I go for the innocent look, raising my eyebrows. “That depends, when does the statute of limitations run out for crimes committed as a minor?”
Hazel’s jaw drops and my lips twitch in amusement. She’s so damn cute when she’s outraged.
“I’m not taking that money,” she declares, pointing at the tray filled with quarters.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes and scoop the cash into our tub. I turn to the nearest kid and pass him the money.
“Woah, thanks man!”
When I turn back to Hazel, she’s looking at me in a way I can’t quite decipher, the barest hint of a smile on her lips. “What?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Nothing.”
Part of me, the part that wants to see inside her mind and know absolutely everything there is to know about my Little Lilac, doesn’t want to let it go. But she looks happy and relaxed, and I don’t want to ruin that, so I decide to let her keep her thoughts for now.
I take her to the food stand and order a side of fries and two milkshakes then I lead her onto the outside section of the pier, slipping us around the corner and out of sight. I stop us by a ladder and pass the fries and my milkshake over to Hazel. “Hold these for a second?”
“Why?” Hazel asks, wariness drawing out the word. But she takes my cup and I balance the fries on top. Then I turn around and climb the ladder.
“Flynn,” Hazel hisses which just makes me smile.
I finish climbing up onto the lower section of the roof then get onto my stomach and reach down. “Pass me the food.”
Hazel glares up at me, checking either side to make sure no one’s watching before holding up the fries. I take the food and drinks and place them on the higher section of the roof before looking back down at Hazel.
“You coming?”
“Up there?”
I smile wider and Hazel just huffs as she climbs the ladder. Once she’s made it up, I give her a boost onto the top section of the roof and then launch myself up.
I dust my hands off and when I look up, Hazel’s caught in wonder, gazing out at the sea.
“Hope used to call it the best view in the city. Better than even the space needle.”
Hazel nods, still a little dazed at the way the sun catches off the Ferris wheel, sparkling rays arching out over the sea like rainbows. “She was right.”
I bring our food over and we sit down, our legs hanging off the edge of the roof. The breeze catches Hazel’s hair and for the first time since Hope died my fingers itch for my camera.
We eat in quiet for a while, our hands brushing when we reach for the fries.
It’s so calm and easy, Hazel admiring the view and me just enjoying the feeling of knowing I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be.
It’s always been like that for me, breaking rules just provides this release that makes it easier to breathe.
Once we’ve finished the fries, Hazel peers at me over her milkshake. “Did Hope know that you’re… different?”
I don’t think you don’t feel things, Flynny. I just think sometimes your emotions are harder to reach.
“Yes. She was the only person who really understood how my mind works.”
“How does it work?”
I put down my shake and lean back on my hands, trying to find the words to describe it. “Some emotions come easy. Anger, happiness. I feel them but fleetingly. It’s the social emotions that are a little trickier. Guilt, empathy, shame.”
Hazel fiddles with her straw, eyes downcast on her shake. “What about love?”
Electricity zaps through my body. I take the cup out of her hands and pull her legs over mine. “It may look a little different, but yes, Lilac, I can love.”
She rests her head on my shoulder, and a shudder rolls down my spine.
“When I’m with you, I feel so much more,” I tell her. “Everything is stronger, more vibrant. It’s like you unlock the part of my brain that keeps all the feelings on mute and for once I’m feeling everything on full volume.”
Hazel picks at a thread on her jeans, her voice quiet. “Is that why you like spending time with me?”
My stomach hardens at the idea that I’m just using Hazel like an emotional drug.
“No.” I spear my fingers through her hair and twist her head so I can look her in the eyes.
“I like spending time with you because I like you, Hazel. I like the way you smile and how fucking kind you are. I like that I broke into your house and you made me hot chocolate. I like your obsession with little charms and all things lilac. I like making you blush with just my words and I fucking love the sounds you make when I’m touching you. I could go on if you want?”
She smiles shyly and she shakes her head a little.
I want to carry on anyway. I want to tell her that she’s all I think about, that I hate every moment she’s not in my arms. That I may not know how to love but I know I love her.
My lilac is in me, soul, body, and mind and I’m not ever letting her go.
I don’t want to scare her though, so I roll her onto her back and kiss her instead. I kiss her until my lips burn, until we’re out of breath and she tastes of me.
“Flynn,” she whispers when we finally pull apart, our noses still pressed together. “What are we doing?”
“Whatever you want,” I vow.
Her hand settles on my jaw, and I hate the pain dancing in her eyes. “But how does this end? If you kill Claren, you’re going to have to disappear.”
I know she’s right but the thought of leaving Hazel rages inside of me. I roll onto my back and stare at the sky. “Maybe I’ll steal you away with me.”
“Kidnapping’s illegal.”
I turn my head to face her. “When has that ever stopped me?”
Hazel laughs then presses her lips together, her eyes turning watery.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” I ask, needing to distract her because the last thing I want to do is make Hazel cry.
“Vancouver Island. Where my mom grew up. She wanted to move back there and open a bookshop. I always said I’d do just that. Find a cute little house, name the bookshop after her. Raise my family there.”
The thought of having kids with Hazel makes my cock harden and my heart race. “What was her name?” I ask.
Hazel smiles sadly. “Olive. My middle name.”
“So maybe we’ll do that,” I say. “You can start your bookshop and I’ll sell photos online. Anonymously, of course.”
Hazel turns to face me. “What would you take photos of?”
“You.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Will you take one now?”
Other than surveillance photos, I haven’t taken a single photo since Hope died. I haven’t had any desire to. But I could take photos of Hazel all day long, I’ve just been waiting for her permission.