Mark took his last breath while my hands were on her. While my attention was completely caught up in Aeri and how good she felt. The moment that always matters, the second when it finally clicks for them that this is it, that there’s no clever line left and no way out, and I missed it.
Usually that’s the moment I need. The second that actually gets me off. That’s the one I tuck away in the back of my head so I can replay it later, over and over, until it does the job.
But tonight, I didn’t even want it.
I didn’t even fucking think about it, and that’s never happened before.
I’ve never been distracted. Never pulled away. Never cared about anything else more than that moment.
Until tonight.
The wall, the sink, the counter clean up just enough that none of the drunk idiots in this shit hole will even realize someone was just stabbed to death a few feet from where they’re washing their hands. The floor, however, does not cooperate.
Kade scrubs until his forearms flex and the cleaner foams pale against the tile. Most of it lifts, thins, and smears out.
The grout stays fucking red.
Not bright, but dark, settled like it’s fucking permanent.
I straighten slowly, and stare at it longer than I should.
“Well,” I say, forcing air into my lungs, “honestly bro, I think this is as good as it’s getting.”
Kade doesn’t look up. “We can’t leave it like this. It’s too obvious, especially with how bright those fucking lights are.”
My gaze lifts to the fluorescent tubes buzzing overhead, harsh and goddamn unforgiving.
Yeah. That’s an easy fix.
I cross the room and pop my blade free, flipping it open as I reach the switch box where the wiring feeds into the lights. One clean slice. Then another. The hum cuts out mid-buzz, plunging the room into shadow.
Only one light above the sinks keeps flickering, stuttering like it’s on borrowed time, throwing uneven flashes across tile and porcelain and everything we didn’t get rid of.
Much better.
I snap the blade shut and tuck it back into my pocket, satisfied. “Problem solved,” I say, a smug edge creeping into my grin.
The bass outside stutters, then cuts off mid-beat like someone pulled the plug straight out of the fucking wall.
My stomach fucking drops.
For half a second there’s nothing. No bass, or crowd noise. Just this thick, wrong silence sitting in the room like it knows what’s coming.
Then all hell breaks loose.
Shouting explodes down the hallway. Whistles cut sharp through the air. Doors slam open hard enough to rattle the walls. Footsteps pound past in every direction at once, fast andpanicked and sloppy. Someone screams, high and raw, followed by a voice barking orders that I immediately know doesn’t belong to the DJ.
Kade’s head snaps up.
Sirens hit next. Distant, but closing fast. That sound crawls through the concrete and straight up my spine, each wail ticking closer like a fucked-up countdown.
Fuck.
It’s a fucking raid.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”
The alarm kicks on, shrill and relentless, vibrating straight through my fucking teeth. The pipes rattle overhead. The whole building feels like it’s shuddering under the weight of it.
