Chapter 26 – Aster #2
Her eyes fall to it, expression turning to disgust, and she slowly sets the thing on my coffee table by the gun. She wipes her hands off on her skirt, then says, “I mean, you left out the part where I stabbed him in the shoulder and shot him in the thigh, but yeah, that about sums it up.”
My jaw all but unhinges. “You shot him?” I throw a hand over my chest, attempting to stop my heart from thumping out of it, unable to hide my complete and utter shock.
The fact that she did all that and left the place alive is not only impressive, but a damn miracle. “What the hell were you thinking?!”
Her eyes widen. Brave persona immediately faltering. “Should I not have?”
“Not if you weren’t aiming for his head!” My brain works on overdrive, analyzing how this could pan out. The amount of damage control that might be needed. That’s definitely needed.
“I thought about it,” Lily admits, her voice softer. When my eyes meet hers, I no longer see the confident woman who joked about blowing his balls off minutes ago. She looks… distant. Unsure of herself.
I reach out and tip her chin so her eyes meet mine. “You should have let me handle this.”
She swats me away. “I didn’t need your help.”
“Oh, really?” I fold my arms over my chest, heat flushing my veins. “Thank fuck for you I didn’t listen and stay home! Were you planning to outrun them? I’ve seen you do cardio.”
Her lip twitches, face reddening. “We were going uphill for three miles!”
“You’ve got to stop acting like you don’t need anyone. I know you’ve been doing this by yourself for a while, but I’m here now.”
“And I still don’t trust you!” she shouts, and she might as well have slapped me in the face.
“You don’t have to trust me to let me help you. We both want the same thing.”
“And what’s that?” she asks, exasperated.
“To see Kodak taken down. To see this city safe again.”
She rolls her eyes. “I wish I was naive enough to believe getting rid of the Kodak Killer would make this city safe. Have you watched the news?”
“Baby, I am the news.” I gesture to a paper on the coffee table. “Yes, I’m aware… but it’s a start.”
Her frustrated eyes meet mine. “It is a start.”
“Does Vetrel know who you are?”
“No,” she assures me, and my lungs refill with oxygen. “At least, I don’t think so.”
Oxygen vacates. “Well, that’s not very comforting.”
“He doesn’t know who I am, and they won’t find my face in any facial recognition database, but…” Her voice trails off, and nerves swirl in my gut.
“But what?”
“He ripped off my wig during our fight.” She sways, and nerves dance across my skin at a pace I’ve never experienced.
“So if he saw you somewhere,” I choke out, the words difficult, “he might recognize you.” She nods, and I curse under my breath. I reach out and take a strand of her real hair, twirling the pink around my index finger. “Have you considered pink may not be the most inconspicuous color?”
“Why do you think I wore a wig?” She cocks a brow, inhaling deeply, followed by a wince.
Are you okay? is on the tip of my tongue, but she’s so clearly not. “I have to kill him.”
“What?” Her face reddens with anger. “Why?”
“If he’s seen you, you’re not safe. If he recognizes you, you’re dead. I tried explaining this to you before.”
She shakes her head, pacing the room. “We can’t kill him.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” she stutters, flustered, then spins to face me. “Because you can’t just go around killing people!”
My brows furrow. “Says who?”
She points at her chest. “Me!”
“I didn’t realize I was taking orders from you.”
She throws her arms in the air. “Well, we sure as hell can’t let the serial killer be in charge.”
“So, Mother fucking Teresa should be instead?”
“I just shot a guy inches from his dick. I’d hardly consider myself Mother Teresa,” she snaps back, but I don’t miss the way the corner of her mouth quirks upward.
My gaze drops to her lips, then returns to her prideful eyes. “You liked it, didn’t you?”
Her expression says a thousand words, but the only one that escapes her pretty lips is a hesitant, “No.”
“Such a little liar.” I grip her chin between my finger and thumb, and she slaps me away. “Admit it. You felt powerful. Strong. Invincible.”
Her desperation to tell the truth is fighting her desire to admit I’m right. “He deserved what I did to him.”
“He deserves a hell of a lot more. And if him staying alive puts you in danger, that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Careful, Aster.” Her pupils dilate, turning those beautiful ocean eyes into a small stream. “Or I might think you actually care about me.”
My fingers graze along her arm, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Would it be so bad if I did?”
“Sounds like it could be dangerous for everyone else,” she says, exhaling, and I laugh.
“That’s the truest thing you’ve said tonight.” I lift the hair off her neck, brushing my thumb over her pulse point, and she sighs.
“It was terrible,” she says, the words lacking conviction, as her heart pounds.
“You don’t have to lie. We’re the only ones here.”
“I’m not lying,” she attempts, her words still empty of truth as she retreats, and my hand falls away.
“Why are you so scared to admit you liked it?”
She folds her arms over her chest. “Liked what?”
“The power.” I grin, stepping closer. “Feeling in control for once.”
“Being in that room…” Her jaw hardens. “I’ve never felt so out of control in my life.”
“You left alive. You brought Vetrel to his knees. Hardly sounds like someone out of control.”
“You know what?” She spins, stomping out of the room, and heads towards the front door, clearly over our little standoff. “You think you know me.” I trail behind her. “But you don’t!” She gathers her things. “So stop telling me what I think or how I’m feeling.”
“Lily, wait.” I reach for her, but she jumps out of my grasp, and my chest tightens. “It’s not my problem if you can’t face the truth.”
Her eyes narrow. “And what truth would that be?”
That you and I are more alike than you think. “That you realized the world would be a better place without certain people in it. And you liked the control of being the one to make that decision.”
Her jaw is tight, but her eyes are playful. “You haven’t corrupted me just yet, Grim.”
And she’s gone without another word.
When I return to the living room, my gaze falls to the coffee table, the hunk of metal all but setting fire to it.
Frederick Vetrel is a dead man.