Chapter 16 – Lily

LILY

“Aster.” His body towers over me, a magnetic energy swarming between us, siphoning all my oxygen. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Someone wanted you to investigate me, didn’t they? That’s why you were watching me from the tree that first night?”

A snorted laugh of disbelief escapes me. “I can assure you, what I was doing in that tree had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“So, you’re telling me we met by pure coincidence?” he scoffs, and my mind whirls.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Is someone else onto him too? Is that why he’s so paranoid?

“Even if that’s true, then why did you start stalking me?” he asks, and I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “The truth.”

My eyes search his, forest green and so soft, like they have all the answers. We’re not going to get anywhere if we keep lying to each other. One way or another, I need to know tonight. “Because I’m trying to find the Kodak Killer.”

“Well, I could have saved you the trip. I’m not him.”

“Says you.”

He rolls his eyes and retreats a step, oxygen returning to my atmosphere in an instant. “It would save us a lot of time if you would believe me.”

“I have no reason to.”

“I haven’t killed you.”

“Oh, wow!” I throw a hand over my chest, bending slightly at the knees, and squeal. “Thank you so much for your restraint!”

He huffs a laugh. “Really?”

“You’re going to have to be a bit more convincing.”

“If I was the Kodak Killer, don’t you think I would just kill the person who ‘caught’ me?” he asks, using air quotes.

I shift on my heels. His point is valid, but I’m still not convinced. “The night is young.”

His lips curve upward, but his eyes are soft. My brain runs on overdrive, trying to untangle my thoughts, the data, and the truth.

The things the anonymous caller has said, the way Aster is acting, it’s hard to believe they’re the same person.

Although in a fucked-up sense, I would feel safer knowing it’s just him messing with me from the other end of the encrypted line.

Because for some insane reason, I believe he doesn’t plan to kill me.

And while things don’t add up, there’s also the possibility he’s lying. Toying with me.

“Did you—” A blood-curdling scream, followed by a loud crash, echoes through the hallway. I gasp, jumping forward, and mindlessly clutch Aster’s suit jacket. “What the hell was that?”

His large hand slips over my hip, and he tugs me behind him, easing my tension slightly. “Something we weren’t supposed to hear.”

I want to believe he’s the Kodak Killer. The monster I’ve been searching for. The psycho caller. But I can’t deny even in moments of fear, he makes me feel safer. Protected. Although I suppose even the Grim Reaper has a soft spot. Maybe I’m his.

We creep down the hall and around the corner to a door that’s slightly ajar.

Aster presses a finger to his lips, signaling me to keep quiet, as if I need the reminder.

We glance through the crack, finding a study, walls lined with books.

My heart stops. On the floor, a woman is convulsing, blood pooling around her neck and staining her blonde hair. What the hell just happened?

Her head rolls in our direction, terrified glassy eyes boring into mine. Then in an instant, in the passing of a single breath, her body goes slack, gaze void of fear. Void of emotion. Void of life. Void of answers.

Footsteps and muffled voices in the room yank me back to the present. All it would take is someone swinging the door open, and we’d be absolutely screwed. Possibly the next bodies bleeding out on what appears to be a very expensive green Persian rug.

I tug Aster’s suit jacket, and he must have the same thoughts because he follows my lead and we retract our steps.

Once around the corner, we rush through the hall towards the ballroom.

A door creaks open and slams behind us. Thuds echo against the walls, matching my pounding heart, as the temperature of my skin spikes to a thousand degrees.

“Shit,” Aster mutters, halting in place, and tugs me to face him. “Trust me?”

His emerald eyes hold mine, so steady, so reassuring, and the nearing footsteps force my tongue. “Yes.”

My body is lifted off the floor in an instant, my legs wrapped around his strong torso, back slammed against the wall, expelling all my oxygen.

Before I can inhale, his mouth crashes into mine.

“What are you—” I pant against his lips, and he brings a hand to my throat, gripping lightly, trailing kisses across my cheek until his moist lips graze my ear, eliciting a full body shiver.

“Make it believable,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is back on mine.

The realization hits me that we’re cosplaying two horny lovers in the hallway, which is the sole reason, the only reason, I allow myself to relax at his touch and melt into the kiss.

My fingers slide in his soft brown hair, gripping tight, and my hips roll on reflex, a throaty groan escaping him.

His tongue moves over my lips, coaxing them open, and for the sake of selling the bit so we’re not accused of witnessing a murder, I let him.

His rough palm glides up my leg, fingertips singing my skin like a fire trail as he dips below the outer slit of my dress.

He tastes like vanilla and honey, and my brain gets a little foggy as a beautiful bright light blends into my consciousness. I follow the feeling higher and higher, practically weightless, heat tugging at my core. Am I entering heaven? Honestly, if this is how I go, so be it.

A throat clears, yanking me back to Earth, and my eyes pop open to far too many lumens assaulting my retinas.

Aster holds up a hand, shielding my face from the intrusion.

Our chests heave, and the light is clicked off.

I blink away the spots in my vision, and a security guard finally comes into view.

My shaking legs are still hooked around Aster as he holds me pinned against the wall.

I’m annoyed at the interruption while also reminding myself we were faking it.

My heart hammers against my chest, cheeks on fire as I return to the reality of the situation.

Sucking face with a serial killer is not a very karma-balancing thing to do. In fact, I’m waiting for my body to burst into flames. Although I fear it already has.

“This area is restricted,” the security guard snaps. “Staff only.”

“Come on, man.” Aster laughs, the sound light and relaxed. “Give me two minutes?”

“Two minutes?” I gawk at him with a huff, and he squeezes my side. I force a giggle, playing along. “Is that all you have in you today, baby boo?” Aster’s narrowed eyes snap to mine, and I grin with a shrug.

“Out!” the man shouts, and I flinch. “Now!”

“Sorry,” Aster says, gaze holding mine as he languidly lowers me to the floor.

My body glides against his, the friction doing something to my core I will never admit out loud.

His fingertips graze my skin so gently, as if he’s prolonging the moment, and I find it hard to blame him.

It’d be surprising if this security guard isn’t convinced, because my body certainly is by the way it’s begging to fuck this man, audience be damned.

“We’ll find another room,” Aster tells the guard, but his attention is locked on me, a cocky boy smile plastered on.

The guy mumbles something as he rushes us out the door to an empty ballroom. The sound of an auctioneer in the distance tells me the bidding must have started.

Aster’s hand rests firmly on my lower back, and I find myself leaning into his touch. “We need to get out of here.”

“Finally, something we can agree on.”

We rush towards the main hallway, and Aster’s eyes dart in each room as we hurry to the exit.

“What are you looking for?” I ask him.

“My friend.” He cranes his neck around another corner, expression defeated.

“I thought that was a ruse?”

“Why would I fabricate a friend?”

I shrug. “Sociopaths are known to be antisocial. Maybe this imaginary friend is your cover.”

“I can assure you, I am not a sociopath.” He glares at me. “And Diego is very much real, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get him out of here as well.”

I gesture forward. “Then by all means.”

We make it to the art gallery, and the room is packed. Jude and Isla stand at the front, holding the interest of the crowd. A dark-haired guy on the far side notices Aster, and they seem to be doing a lot of talking with their eyes. Aster pulls out his phone, then curses under his breath.

“He said to leave without him,” Aster tells me.

“Um.” I lower my voice to a hush. “Did you happen to mention we just witnessed a murder?”

“Yeah, it was the first text I sent. Even added the little skull emoji and everything,” he deadpans, waving his phone towards me to emphasize his sarcasm. “For fuck’s sake, don’t you know screenshots live forever?”

I bite a laugh. “How very millennial.”

“I am a millennial.”

“The millennial murderer,” I say in my best Dateline voice, and he glares. “Screenshots live forever, but his victims don’t!”

“Okay, that’s enough.” He returns his hand to my waist, nudging me towards the exit.

“What about Diego?”

“He can handle himself.”

When we reach the massive front door, Aster holds it open, and I walk through it into the cool night air.

He digs a ticket out of his pocket and passes it to the valet.

A crisp breeze wisps by, causing goosebumps to scatter across my body, and I shiver.

A moment later, a suit jacket is placed over my shoulders, and I glance to a grinning Aster.

“I know how much you love wearing my clothes.”

I smack him before tightening the jacket around me. “If I weren’t freezing, I’d give it back.” A rumbling engine tugs my attention to the valet pulling up in a gorgeous silver vintage Porsche. Aster strolls to the passenger side and opens the door. “I’m not leaving with you.”

“I didn’t see you hand the valet a ticket. How did you get here?”

My jaw hardens. “Taxi.”

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