Chapter 12 Sera
Sera
The knock on my front door is too polite to be James. Three measured raps, evenly spaced, the sound of someone who doesn’t want to scare me. Not at all like James’s explosive single knock when he delivered the severed hand.
I open the door, and the snack of a detective stands on my porch, raindrops clumping his dark eyelashes and sliding down his leather jacket. His brown hair is wet and slicked back so I can fully see his heart-stopping face, and his shoulders are tight with tension.
“Miss Vale,” he says, his voice low and even.
“Detective…” I lean against the doorframe. “Are you lost?”
A flicker of amusement crosses his face. “No. Can I come in for a minute?”
A woman with as many secrets as I do would make excuses, but the rain is falling harder now, and there’s something in his blue eyes that makes me curious. And I don’t think I could resist staring at that epic jawline of his even if I tried.
I step aside. “Sure.”
As he moves past me, a heavy thud sounds from beneath us, clear and unmistakable. A hello from my shadow daddy to my first official guest.
If Detective Eddie hears it, he doesn’t react. He just stands in my hallway, dripping on the hardwood, taking in the sparse furniture and empty walls.
“Nice place,” he lies.
“It’s a shithole,” I correct him, “but it was cheap.”
He smiles, just barely. “Fair enough.”
I lead him to the living room, gesturing to the sagging couch while I take the armchair across from it. The rain beats steadily against the windows, and the old radiator clanks and hisses like something dying.
“So,” I say, “is this a social visit or all business?”
He sits, elbows on knees, studying me. “There’s been another murder.”
I hike up an eyebrow. “Another?”
“A body was found in an abandoned house,” he says carefully. “Young woman, about your age. She used to work at Gas N’ Go.”
I nod, waiting. I should ask questions, show concern. That’s what normal people do when they hear about a murder. Instead, I just stare back at him, waiting for him to get to the point.
“I wanted to check on some of the newer residents in Wichita,” he continues. “Make sure everyone feels safe.”
“How thoughtful,” I say, my voice flat.
Eddie’s expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes sharpens.
From below, the house creaks. The walls seem to shift. My shadow daddy must be listening.
Eddie tilts his head. “What’s that sound?”
“Old pipes.” I shrug and absently scratch my neck. “I have angry plumbing.”
He nods. “Place this old, I’m surprised anything works.”
“Some things don’t,” I say. “But I’m getting used to the quirks.”
The rain intensifies, drumming against the roof. Eddie leans back, seeming to relax, but his eyes never stop assessing.
“So,” he says, “what do you think of your boss, Rick?”
The question seems to come from nowhere. “He’s a useless creep. Why?”
“Just curious.” His tone is casual, but his gaze is focused. “Does he bother you?”
I think of Rick’s hands, his leering stares, the way he corners me when no one else is around.
I fist my hands in my lap, which draws Eddie’s gaze immediately, so I loosen them. “He’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
I shrug. “He’s touched my ass a few times, but it’s not worth reporting, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Has he said anything to you that bothers you?” Eddie asks.
“Well, he told me I’d get a little more than minimum wage with no health insurance, so… Yeah, that bothers me. That bothers me a lot.”
His eyes narrow, like he’s growing weary of my sarcasm…or like he can see straight through it. Something tells me he’s digging for info about Rick for a reason, and asking about him right after telling me about another murder is definitely not a coincidence.
Is Rick a killer? I don’t get that vibe from him, but I’ve been wrong before. Maybe tomorrow I’ll keep both my gun and my knife on my person.
The storm outside grows louder, rain lashing against the windows. It feels intimate somehow, the two of us in this dim room, the rest of the world washed away.
“Why Wichita?” he asks. “Why that gas station job? You seem…overqualified.”
“I needed a place no one knew me,” I answer, surprising myself with my honesty. “And I need money.”
“Plenty of places are hiring, though. You could work literally anywhere, at any job.”
“Are you going to nitpick all of my life choices?” I snap.
“No. I’m sorry. I just…” He looks at me like I’m a complicated puzzle. “Have you ever been afraid, Sera?”
The question is soft, almost tender. The use of my first name feels deliberate.
“Not the way you mean,” I say.
“How do I mean?”
I study him, the rain-damp collar of his shirt, the shadows under his eyes.
“You want to know if I’m afraid of being the next body found,” I tell him. “I’m not.”
“What are you afraid of, then?”
“Living in a world where bad guys wear badges and nobody believes women,” I bite out without a second thought.
His eyes widen a fraction, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t ask the obvious follow-up questions. Instead, he just nods, like I’ve confirmed something he already suspected.
I find myself shifting closer, drawn to his calm intensity. I haven’t felt safe around men in a long time, but there’s something about Eddie that doesn’t set off my alarms. Maybe it’s because he looks at me like I’m a person, not a victim, not prey. Maybe it’s because he listens without judgement.
The moment breaks when Shadow Daddy slams something in the basement—hard. The sound reverberates through the floorboards, a violent, unmistakable crash.
Eddie goes still. “That wasn’t plumbing.”
I force a laugh. “Maybe I have rats.”
“Big rats,” he says dryly.
“It’s an old house,” I remind him. “It makes noise, but it’s harmless.”
“I could check it out for you,” he offers, already half rising. “Take a quick look downstairs.”
“No,” I say, too quickly. “It’s fine. Really.”
He sinks back down. “If you’re sure that’s normal.”
It’s definitely not normal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Usually my shadow daddy isn’t this loud. Surely he’s not jealous of the detective being here.
Is he?
“I’m sure.” I stand. “Would you like a drink? I have whiskey and wine.”
“I’m on duty.” He checks his watch then smiles faintly. “Oh, would you look at that. I’m not on duty anymore.”
I smile. I’m liking this guy more and more.
As I head to the kitchen, I can feel his gaze on me as I pour two fingers of cheap whiskey into mismatched glasses I bought at Dollar General.
The weight of his attention should make me nervous, but it makes my skin tingle.
When I turn, he’s watching me with an intensity that has nothing to do with his job.
I hand him the glass, our fingers brushing. The contact sends a charge through me, and I see it reflected in his eyes—this unexpected, unwanted heat.
He takes a sip, letting the silence stretch between us.
“You’re not safe here, Sera,” he says quietly. “And I don’t just mean because of the serial killer.”
I lock eyes with him. “You think I don’t know that?”
His voice drops lower. “I don’t think you care.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
The storm seems to hold its breath. The house goes still around us, waiting.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
Eddie doesn’t laugh at me or dismiss the question. Instead, he seems to consider it, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I believe in things that won’t stay buried,” he finally answers.
Our eyes hold a moment too long. The air between us feels electrified, dangerous. Not just with attraction, but with something darker, like mutual recognition of the monsters we’ve seen.
Shadow Daddy knocks again, hard, below us, like a warning.
What would he do if I impaled myself on the detective’s cock and rode him screaming into next week?
Tear down the whole house around us? Join the fun with his shadow fingers strumming my clit?
The thought clenches my thighs together and perks my nipples.
Eddie finishes his whiskey and sets the glass down on the coffee table. “I should go.”
Part of me sags in disappointment.
At the door, he pauses, rain still falling beyond the porch. “Lock up behind me.”
“This door is never not locked,” I tell him.
“Call if you need anything.” He hands me his card from his jacket pocket. “Anything. Anytime.”
After he’s gone, I stand in the hallway listening to the rain, the card still warm in my hand from his body heat. At the top of the stairs, my bedroom door creaks open an inch, a sliver of darkness breathing into the hall.
“Are you going to punish me for my sins?” I ask with a smile.
Shadow Daddy growls a sweet, sweet promise that soaks my panties within seconds.
One man stares through me. The other wants to crawl inside me.
I’m still not sure which is more dangerous.