“What did you hear?” She inches closer, pulling me onto the bed beside her. Her arm wraps around my waist, holding me against her side.
“You can’t unhear what I have to say. Okay?” I swallow as she tilts her head. A seriousness comes over her, and she nods. “I was looking for Dom. The elevator was out and I opened the stairwell door to his floor, but there was yelling.”
Just spill it, Dylan.
Alex grabs my hands with her free hand, holding on with silent support. She starts running her fingers through my hair with her other hand, grounding me.
“Dom was meeting with a client.” I’m talking too fast now. The words tumbling out. “He said—Alex, he said he murdered someone.”
Her hand stops moving through my hair. Just for a second. Then she keeps going, slower now. Deliberate.
“He murdered someone. A woman. At a club downtown.” My voice cracks. “He described it. Everything. Every—” I choke. “How he followed her into an alley. How he couldn’t find the woman he wanted so he just grabbed the first one who looked like her. How he?—”
I can’t. I can’t say what he did to her.
“Okay.” Alex’s voice is steady, but I can feel her hand trembling in my hair. “Okay. And Dom?”
“Dom wasn’t shocked. Wasn’t surprised. He just—” I’m crying now. “He said he’d take care of it. Like it was a service. Like this is what he does. Alex, I can’t find any news about it. No missing person reports. Nothing. It’s like it never happened.”
“Who was the client?” Alex asks, her voice steady even though her hands aren’t.
I swallow. “That’s the problem. Neither of them said his name. But his voice. I’d know him anywhere,” I continue. “You were at a club downtown last night.”
“No.” She pulls back slightly. Hand frozen in my hair.
“You fit his description. Perfectly.” My voice breaks. “The woman he killed—Dahlia, maybe that was her name or the club—she looked like you. He settled for her because he couldn’t find who he really wanted.”
Alex’s hand drops from my hair. Goes to her throat.
Her fingers press against her neck. Like she’s testing if it’s still whole. Like she’s imagining what strangulation feels like.
“He was hunting you.” I’m crying harder now. “And you went into an alley with someone. What if it had been him? What if you’d asked the wrong man for a cigarette?”
“Stop.” Her voice is shaking. “Dylan, stop.”
But I can’t. “You fit his victim profile exactly. Any woman who looked like you was in danger. And I wasn’t there. I couldn’t?—”
“I’m here.” She grabs my face with both hands. Her hands are cold. “Dylan, look at me. I’m here. I’m alive.”
But she’s shaking. We’re both shaking.
“For now.” The words slip out. “Alex, he’s killed before. Multiple times. He saidI did it again.Dom has been covering for him. This is what Dom does. Body disposal for hire. Women are dying and Dom is charging more.”
I’m spiraling. I can feel it. My breath coming too fast.
She presses her palm flat against my chest. Right over my heart. Her other hand finds my wrist, fingers on my pulse.
“Breathe with me.” Her voice is steady but her hands aren’t. I can feel them shaking against my skin.
She breathes in. I try to follow.
Four counts in. Her chest rises. Mine follows.
Hold four. Her eyes locked on mine.
Four counts out. Her breath warm against my face because we’re that close.
Hold four. My heart rate slows. Her hand still pressed there. Feeling it.
