Page 10 of Dream a Little Dream

Especially with the way he glared at the screen.

Kenny pressed forward. “Let’s look at the Howell case. What I imagine many of you have chosen this course for. Ten years ago, Frank and Roisin Howell were apprehended for a series of ritualistic murders. Their crimes were methodical, driven by ideology and what many psychologists would categorise as a pathological sense of control. “

Aaron, as if re-enacting what Kenny had done to him that night in the club, watched him while he worked the room, gaze not on the screen but onhim.

This was going to be the longest hour of Kenny’s life.

And if this bloke was his student, it would be the most difficult three years—fourif he takes placement—he’d ever endured.

“A husband-and-wife team is rare among serial offenders.” Kenny forced his professionalism from the depths that man had wrenched them to. “Their reasons for the chosen victims are still unclear. Unlike other killers, they didn’t focus on a particular age, gender, look. It would seem on the surface that no one was off limits. And as such, the ritualistic symbols left behind were patterns only they understood. To this day, despite many an interview with them, their motives remain…opaque. Because they want them to be.”

The words hung like smoke, heavy and suffocating, and the lecture hall grew eerily silent. The room wasn’t just listening. It held its collective breath. As it always did when he talked about the case that had carved out his soul. He drifted his gaze, almost involuntarily, to the front row. The bloke with the pink hair sat motionless, expression unreadable, but his eyes, a vivid, unrelenting blue, burned right through Kenny’s defences.

He felt the cold grip of recognition, like a noose tightening. Aaron’s gaze wasn’t just intense, it wasconsuming. And it wasn’t the gaze of a student; it was the gaze of someone whoknew.Knew more than he should. More than anyone in this room, and Kenny braced his hands on the podium as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded, the floor beneath his feet unsteady, and the world narrowing to just the space between them. Aaron tilted his head, the faintest curl of a smile ghosting his lips. A smile that wasn’t friendly, but predatory.Knowing.

Kenny straightened, forcing his attention back to the rest of the class. But the weight of those eyes stayed with him, a silent accusation, a challenge he didn’t know how to answer.

“Ritualism can mean different things to different offenders. What’s critical is that we ask the rightquestions. What drives these behaviours? And how do we stop them before they escalate? That is the role of the psychologist. Asking the why and unpicking the reasons why.”

As he moved to the next slide, he dared another glance at the front row. Aaron sat motionless, pen frozen above his blank notebook. Kenny’s chest tightened. There was something in Aaron’s expression, something dark, raw, and familiar, and it suddenly twisted this lecture he’d given countless times before into a personal reckoning.

For the first time in years, Kenny felt like the subject of his own lecture. Examined, exposed, and one wrong answer away from losing control.

Whoisthis bloke?

chapter three

Like Real People Do

Aaron sank deeper into his scarf, each breath a struggle against the tight coil of dread in his chest. His pulse thundered, erratic and deafening, threatening to crack through the cool façade he clung to with brittle fingers. His gaze latched onto the man stepping behind the podium.

Dr Kenneth Lyons.

His name was a jagged edge in his mind, sharp and unrelenting.TheDr Kenneth Lyons. The one he’d spent years tracking, obsessing over, chasing through whispers and records, only to collide with under flashing strobe lights, in a haze of proximity that still burned like fire on his skin. He’d seen that face tilted back in pleasure, felt those hands branding him in the dark. He’d dreamed about that night every moment since. And now here he was. Real. Unavoidable. Positioned at the helm of this room, commanding it.

Discussing Aaron’s life.

Aaron swallowed, the sound loud in his ears, the realisation gnawing at him with sharp, merciless teeth. It was him. No doubt. The man from his birthday now encased in authority andsurrounded by expectant students. Dr Kenneth Lyons—the man he’d been determined to meet since uncovering his name.

Had he known?

Had he pieced it together yet?

Aaron’s stomach fluttered. He didn’t think so. He couldn’t have. But then again…

The pink of his hair, usually a bold declaration to the world to stay the fuck away, now felt like a beacon screaminglook at me, spotlighting him among the sea of strangers. Desperation clawed at him as he dragged some strands into his face, tilting his head down to shrink into nothing.

Don’t draw attention to yourself.

Yeah, fucking great advice, but it was useless now.

He dared a glance up, gaze snagging on Kenny’s movements. Each shift of his body had Aaron’s stomach coiled tighter with every second passing. He could almost taste the memory of him. His scent. The force of his hands. The whispered growl still crawling under his skin.

But it wasn’t the man from that night anymore. It was something worse. Dr Kenneth Lyons, larger than life, intimidating in his knowledge, and far too close to the truth Aaron had buried. The man he’d spent years preparing for, watching from a distance, learning from. And now, every inch of Aaron’s carefully constructed plan teetered on the edge of collapse because he wasn’t ready. He’d thought he was, but the sight of Lyons behind the podium, powerful and commanding, gutted him.

You’ve come this far. Don’t fuck this up now.

But the pressure suffocated him, the air charged with an energy threatening to pull him apart. Unable to resist, he lifted his gaze and Kenny held it. Just for a second. A second too long. Turning the world to static. And in that moment, Aaron swore Kenny saw him.Reallysaw him. Not just as a student, not evenas the twink from that night, but as someone with secrets Kenny didn’t yet know to fear.

---