Chapter 16 – Lily #2
Aster steps towards me and lowers his mouth to my ear.
“In case you forgot, we just witnessed a murder. So, unless you’d like to stay and see if they figure that out while waiting for a taxi, or walk through the thousands of acres of woods surrounding this estate in the dark alone, I suggest we leave right the hell now. ”
My lips part, words impossible. Because thanks to the sex show in the hallway paired with Aster’s annoyingly charming banter, I did momentarily forget about the murder we just witnessed.
Is it possible I’ve been too desensitized to death?
Given the atrocities that go on in the world daily, even in just our city, what kind of person does that make me, to watch life drain from someone’s eyes and hardly blink?
Is it self-preservation or am I no better than Aster?
“Lillian,” Aster says firmly, his gaze locked on mine, and I fight how him saying my full name makes me feel. “Get in the car.” I cock a brow, and his shoulders sag. “Please.”
“There.” I pat his chest. “Was that so hard?”
He groans, trailing after me as I lower myself into the Porsche. Once I’m situated in my seat, he shuts the door, rounds to the driver’s side, and starts the car.
Pulling away, he glances over at me. “Put your seat belt on.”
“Are you serious?” My brows tug together.
“Would you rather die?”
I tilt my head. Does he want to keep me alive just to kill me himself? I suppose if I died in a car accident, it would take some of his fun out of it. My eyes fall to his unprotected chest. Hypocrite. “You don’t have yours on.”
“Lily.” His tone is firm as he turns onto the dark main road and directly between the flush trees. He glances over briefly, then curses under his breath, easing the car to the side of the road.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he puts the car in park.
His eyes hold mine. “Your safety is non-negotiable.” I’m left speechless as he leans over the center console and reaches past my head, large bicep so close I could bite it, but I won’t.
The belt is tugged across me with a whir and clicked in place.
His knuckles rest against my hip, and his eyes drop to my lips.
“Aren’t we—” I clear my throat. “Outrunning a murder or something?”
“Right.” He blinks, gaze still locked in. He blinks a few times more, then retreats, clicking on his own seatbelt, and puts the car in drive.
Once we’re back on the road, trees pass by with zero visibility between them, and I’m grateful for not having to escape by running through the Blackridge Forest.
The only illumination is from the car’s headlights, and while he’s driving slower than I’d like, I also don’t want to avoid being caught just to end up as roadkill.
His hands grip and release the steering wheel every few seconds, but I don’t dare break the silence between us. My mind is whirling with so many questions, I doubt I could hold a conversation anyways.
Should I ask him about the calls? What if he doesn’t like that I’ve caught on and gets angry, and all this really is his game before he kills me?
What if it’s not him? I’m unsure if I’m ready to tell anyone about it.
What was with that kiss? I know it was fake, but damn, was it good. Heat pulls between my thighs, and I shift in place. Shit. To avoid leaving a puddle on his passenger seat, I redirect my mind to the topic of murder.
No sexy kissing thoughts. Only murder thoughts.
What the hell is happening to me?
“Do you think it was an accident?” finally slips out of my mouth.
“What do you mean?” Aster asks.
“The…” I fidget with my nails. “The woman. Do you think they meant to kill her?”
He glances my way, then quickly returns his eyes to the road. “Yes, I think they meant to kill her.”
“Okay, but why? Who was she?”
“No clue why, but I did see her earlier in the night talking to Frederick Vetrel.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“Vetrel’s Bar is his place. He has his hands in all kinds of stuff.”
“What were they talking about? Do you think this Fred guy killed her?”
He shrugs. “I have no clue. But they didn’t seem like they were making small talk. So I’d imagine whatever he’s in, she is—or was—too.”
The anonymous caller said everything would make sense by morning. What will make sense? I’m more confused than ever.
Once again, we fall into anxiety-ridden silence until we’re only a few blocks from my house. He takes a sharp turn, driving in the opposite direction of it, and panic courses through me.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I assumed you were going to take me home.”
“We need to have a conversation about what the fuck’s happening without prying ears or murders happening around us.”
“The fact you can say all that so nonchalantly is very concerning.”
Aster releases a heavy breath, passing streetlights illuminating his face every few seconds, then he looks towards me, his gaze piercing mine.
“I know you don’t trust me. But I need you to.
And I need you to be open to it when I ask for us to have an honest conversation.
” He returns his attention to the road. “It’s more for your safety than mine. ”
“I am not going to your house, and I don’t trust you.
” Yet, I add unwillingly in my head. I definitely don’t trust myself after that delicious sex show we put on.
It’s been ages and a girl has needs. From the way his length hardened against me, he’d have no problem fulfilling them.
I shake my head, hoping to clear it. “And until I do trust you, I’m not going into your murder lair. ”
“My murder lair?” He huffs a laugh. “Really?” I fold my arms over my chest, and he relents. “Fine, I know a place.”
A few minutes later, a tall illuminated sign appears ahead: Dahlia’s Diner—Open 24/7. Aster pulls into the lot with a few other vehicles. Enough to ease me but not so many I feel we won’t have that needed privacy.
“A diner?” I ask.
“This not good enough for you either, Princess?” he snarks, turning off the ignition.
“First of all”—I cock a brow—“don’t call me Princess.”
“If the dagger fits.”
“I’d like that dagger back, actually.” I hold out a hand. “It’s my favorite.”
He slaps my palm, grasping it, and cocks a brow. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you lodged it into my thigh.”
His grip tightens, and I rip my hand away. “Not my fault I can outrun you.”
“Bit of an unfair advantage when you’ve staked the competition to the bed.”
I wave him off. “Semantics.”
He rolls his eyes with a grin, exits the car, and slams the door behind him. His gaze holds mine, pinning me in place until he arrives at my door, opening it and extending a hand. “Cinderella.”
My face scrunches, and I swat it. “Oh my God, barf!” I push myself out of the car, only mildly regretting denying his assistance as my stilettos wiggle between the rocks. “And what would that make you? Prince Charming?” I ask as he closes the door and we make our way towards the entrance.
“Only if I can bippity boppity bang you,” he says with a cocky smile.
And he has me laughing again. Shit.
A bell chimes as we cross the threshold of the diner, and moments later a smiling face rushes towards us. “Hey, honey!”
Honey?
“Hey, Dahlia,” Aster says, and I can’t deny it surprises me that this man is on a first name basis with the owner. The loner persona I’ve built in my head is getting crushed little by little. He seems so very… normal.
“And who might this be?” Dahlia asks him, appraising every inch of me. I tug Aster’s jacket tighter around my shoulders, uncomfortable at the attention.
“A friend,” he replies, and Dahlia’s eyes narrow.
“Mm-hmm.” Her gaze swings to mine. “Well, nice to meet you. Any friend of Aster’s is a friend of mine. You two looking to sit at the bar tonight?” She gestures to the stools along a long marble countertop with a miniature jukebox and a ketchup bottle set every five feet.
“Actually, we’re discussing some details for an article.” Aster nods towards the far corner.
“Oh, of course.” Dahlia shoots me a smile before grabbing one menu. “Right this way.”
We follow her to the booth, and I slide in the side against the wall that allows me to keep an eye on the entire restaurant.
Aster pauses, glancing around, then at me.
I cock a brow, and he releases a breath, sliding in the opposite side.
I’d imagine a man like him doesn’t like having his back to anyone.
Dahlia sets a menu on the table. We both order a drink, and she leaves.
“We can share,” I say, grabbing the laminated paper and waving it at him.
He chuckles. “No need.”
“Oh.” I nod. “I get it. You’re one of those people that has to eat the same exact meal every time they go to a restaurant.”
His eyes narrow. “They have a really good burger.”
“I bet they also have a good…” My gaze wanders over the menu, corner of my lip curling as it lands on the lunch section. “Tuna fish sandwich too.”
He grimaces. “I bet they do.”
“You should try it.” I cock a brow, unsure what I’m trying for, but pushing his buttons is just too much fun.
And if he had tuna breath, that would likely prevent me from reminiscing on our little make-out session.
I suppose I’m also delaying the inevitable conversation we need to have that’s full of murder and blood and all the things that keep you up at night.
I realize how Aster and I met is unconventional, and hell, I’m not fully convinced he’s not the Kodak Killer, but I can’t deny things feel a little bit lighter when he’s around.
Like I don’t have to carry all the darkness on my own.
It’s been a while since I felt that way… ten months and twelve days, in fact.
“Maybe I will,” he says as Dahlia appears with our drinks, clanking them before us.
“What can I get you?” she asks, pulling out a small notepad.
“I’ll have the burger,” I reply.