I don’t need that kind of attention on me and my family. The goal was to keep a low profile, not attract more trouble. And an ambulance is useless now. Reporting this means my family will triple my security detail. I’ll never be free again.
“You’re by motorbike?” I ask the stranger who nods once, undisturbed by his dark deed. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What sort of killer doesn’t plan for clean up?” My voice borders on hysterical. “Or do you plan on getting caught? Fucking hell. Did you just think you’d let the body rot to be found by the first drunk student coming this way?”
My temper surges, so violent and free it knock the air out of my lungs. I have such a tight control on my emotions, usually. Somehow, the masked murderer, who I’m pretty sure has been following me for weeks, is a safe enough container for my rage. I’m losing it.
I pick up my phone and dial Dante, who answers on the first ring.
“What the fuck, Lu? Where are you? Where are Gemma and Milosh?”
“I’m okay. I?—”
“That’s not what I asked,” he yells, frantic.
As much as I appreciate his protectiveness, it makes me feel like a child and I resent him for it just a little bit. The sensation floods me at the same time as guilt does. Gemma and Milosh are going to lose their jobs. Maybe worse.
I close my eyes. Blood rushes to my ears. Before my mind starts to spiral, the stranger’s rough finger trails on my cheek in a slow stroke. My eyelids fly open, a breath caught in my throat. Fire erupts where his finger glides slowly down my jaw, helping to ground me to the present moment. I swallow hard.
“I have a situation,” I tell Dante.
“What kind of situation?”
“Do you happen to know a burial site in Scotland? Like, close by?”
“What the fuck happened? Where the fuck are you, Lucie? I’m gonna kill Milosh and Gemma. Are you safe?”
I sigh. I’m never going to hear the end of this. “I just killed someone. And I need clean up.” Lying has always been easy. I don’t usually do it with my words, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s second nature and somehow, for reasons unknown to my psyche yet, I want to protect the killer who’s still standing at attention in front of me, like he’s waiting for my orders. And I… like it?
“You didwhat?”
“He tried to assault me. And another girl on campus.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
“I’ll destroy his entire family,” Dante seethes over the phone and I hear Irina and Aleksei grumble on the other end of the line, as well. “Tell me his name.”
“Focus,cugino. He’s already dead, and if I don’t get rid of the body and find an excuse for his disappearance, I’m going to jail. I love pink too much to go to jail.”
“Venturas don’t go to jail, Loulou. Send me your location, I’ll send someone to pick up the body. Don’t be there when they arrive, no one should see you. I own a pig farm across the border, we’ll dump your victim there.”
“I always knew you had it in you,” Irina chimes in. “Well done. But you’re grounded.”
“I’m twenty, Irina.”
She chuckles.
They hung up and silence descends in the darkened alley. While I was on the phone, the stranger has moved closer to me again, only a few inches separating us. Heat wafts off his body, his cologne more intoxicating than the alcohol I consumed today. Something familiar hits my senses but the adrenaline inside my system cuts the memory attached to the smell.
“Go home,” his rough voice says under the helmet.
With a last glance at the body behind him, I nod and turn around. My feet pick up speed until I’m running, all the way to my flat, cheeks heated despite the cold morning air. My feet burn in my boots. My lungs seize.
I look for the sensation of someone watching me, but it’s not there.
NINE
LUCIE
I’m panting when I reach my door and lock myself up inside. My heart is still racing as I stride to my bathroom. I can’t calm down.
