Page 94 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

“Just don’t go around kissing anyone who isn’t me and you’ll be fine.” It was almost a warning. Athreat.

“Using a psychopathic murderer to assert your possessiveness over me now, huh?”

“If it works.”

Aaron snorted and Kenny removed his hand, realising he was in danger of asserting it over him in other ways. “Jack is sending an officer to you. I need to get to my desk.” Kenny stepped aside to let a bunch of students walk into the shop. “Lie low. Call me if you need me.”

“How long will it take?”

“Will what take?”

“To arrest him?”

“How long’s a piece of string?” Kenny turned and walked away.

“Fuck sake.” Aaron stamped his foot, then called after him. “How long did it take after you pointed the finger at you know who?”

Kenny twisted. Stayed silent until a bunch more students scurried past. “Eighteen months. From initial profile to discovery to arrest.”

Aaron widened his eyes.

“Without a confession or catching him in the act, murder investigations are lengthy and meticulous.” Kenny softened. “Keep your head down and you’ll be fine.”

chapter twenty-two

Psycho Killer

How the hell was he supposed to keep his head down?

Knowing there was someone out there—someone right here onthiscampus—who wanted to make Aaron pay for the sins of his parents, for the horrors he had no hand in but could never outrun, how could Kenny eventhinkhe could stay calm? Every time the shop door creaked open, his stomach twisted, and his pulse hammered. He flinched instinctively, glancing up with wide, darting eyes.

The paranoia gripping him since Taylor’s cruel, thoughtless video was already suffocating. Everyone had been watching him, whispering behind their hands, as if he was a sideshow attraction instead of a person. But this was worse. Now someone wasactuallyafter him. Someone clever. Dangerous.Evil.

A fucking psychopath!

He ground his teeth as the thought roared through his head.Psycho. Like his parents. Like the blood inhisveins. Was that why this was happening? Because no matter how far he ran, no matter how hard he tried to be someone else, he was stilltheirs?

“Shit.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, leaning heavily against the counter, staring at the clock as though sheerwillpower could make it speed up. Each tick felt like a countdown, not to the end of his shift, but to when the madman found him. He was on display here. A fish in a bowl. The eyes of every customer burned into his skin, accusing, mocking. They knew. Allknew. They were just waiting for the show. For his inevitable downfall. The grand finale.

Aaron didn’t blame them.

Who wanted a Howell on their doorstep?

The door chimed again, and his heart lurched into his throat. Lottie. Blonde. Pretty. Young. Innocent. She smiled and waved as if the world wasn’t collapsing, as if there wasn’t a fucking monster prowling the campus, hunting. Killing people exactly likeher.

His stomach churned.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Why weren’t the police saying anything? Why weren’t they issuing a statement, telling everyone to stay inside, to lock their doors, to avoid roses, for God’s sake, and—Jesus Christ—not to kiss anyone? Nausea rolled through him and he gripped the edge of the counter until his knuckles turned white.

What the hell were the police doing, anyway?Nothing. As always. Running around in circles, chasing their own damn tails, accomplishing fuck all. They didn’t care about him. Why would they? He was nothing to them.Lessthan nothing. Just the legacy of a couple of infamous killers. A stain on their record. An inconvenient reminder of a case they wanted to bury. Fuck, Jack would probably shake the hand of the man who was planning to kill him! Provide him with the gun to do it, then reward him with a medal after. One more Howell erased from existence. One less problem for the world to deal with. And one less man to steal Kenny’s attention from him. He wasn’t sending him protection. There was no police officer watching him.

A sharp pang of fury spiked through Aaron’s fear. He presseda palm to his chest, willing his heart to slow down, willing himself not to spiral.

But how could henot?

The air in the shop felt heavy, cloying, suffocating. And the clock kept ticking. He was back to watching it count down and waiting.Always fucking waiting.

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