Page 96 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

Aaron smiled in gratitude, then had to get through the next ten minutes of his shift whilst making a plan for why the fuck he was going to the labs. Impulsive idea. DI Bellend needed evidence. But couldn’t search for it himself without a warrant or something like that. Aaron didn’t have that problem. If he had a look around the lab and stumbled on anything that could implicate this Peter Middleton or whoever he was now, then an arrest could happen quicker than waiting for him to strike again.

Evidence. That’s what he was looking for. Proof.

Once he’d locked up the shop and shoved on his denim jacket, he met Sade outside in the biting cold.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this.” She tutted and angled her head.

Aaron could tell her it was to save any more murders on campus, but he’d explain that if and when he had Peter locked up, and so they hurried over the campus lawn toward the science buildings.

University of Ryston’s Natural Sciences loomed like a fortress in the night, tall glass panels gleaming under the glow of scattered streetlights. The structure was modern, all sharp edges and steel frames. A far cry from the Psychology building’s antiquated structure. This was where innovative research took place and Aaron felt dwarfed by it. The wide expanse of its entrance hall was eerily empty. To be expected, considering it was past eight p.m. And inside, the crisp air was sterile, carrying a faint tang of ethanol and cleaning solutions, where the soft hum of vending machines and the occasional scuff of shoes from the students hunched over the late-night study pods tucked into the far corners broke the silence.

Sade led him deeper, passing rows of locked offices and glass-walled laboratories, each one a showcase of spotlessworkstations and high-tech equipment. The building had an unsettling stillness, like the calm before a storm.

Or maybe that was Aaron’s mind.

“You better make it a good one.” Sade stopped in front of a set of double doors.

Aaron forced a grin. “It’ll be worth it. Trust me. We’ll win club of the year for sure.”

She swiped her card, and the doors clicked open to reveal a pristine chemistry lab. Blindingly white, with long countertops lined with neatly arranged glassware, fume hoods, and racks of chemical bottles. Everything ordered and precise.

“I can help.” Sade glanced around. “Hold the camera or something?”

“No, no. You go.” Aaron gestured toward the door. “I’m still figuring out the shot. Thanks for this, though. Seriously.”

Sade eyed him. “Just don’t touch any chemicals. Or set anything on fire.”

“Me? Never.” He splayed a hand over his chest in mock innocence.

“And don’t forget to plan the pole social.” She pointed at him as she backed out.

Aaron nodded, watching as the door clicked shut behind her. The silence following was all-consuming, the hum of the air vents magnifying in the emptiness. He inhaled, chemical-scented air stinging his nostrils, and tried to steady his nerves as he scanned the room, mind racing through what little plan he had. Especially as he had no clue what constituted as evidence. A handwritten note detailing how to kiss someone to death, perhaps?

So, he searched. Opening drawers and cupboards at random. Inside were the expected supplies. Pipettes, measuring cylinders, gloves, neatly labelled vials. He moved quickly but quietly, looking for anything. Then, at the far end of the room, a section partitioned off by a frosted glass divider caught his attention. Itlooked unused, forgotten, but the sign on it said,Technician. What had Kenny said? The bloke was the technician? If the bloke was using these labs to modify the lip balms, then he’d do it in the privacy of his own pod, right?

The frosted glass blurred the contents inside, but as Aaron edged closer, he could make out a bag slumped on the counter behind. A plastic carrier bag. He snuck through the partition door, the space dimly lit apart from a faint glow from the lab’s main lights filtering through, and he lifted on his heels to peer inside the bag.

Lip balms.

He was in the right place, at least.

Now he just needed to find a recipe or formula for changing whatever was in those into a deathly toxin designed to kill. That would be enough, surely?

“What are you doing in here?”

Aaron froze, fear flaring like a match inside him.Shit.

He turned slowly, and his blood ran cold. Peter stood in the doorway, hood down, revealing the full extent of the damage to his face. The scars carved jagged paths over his sunken cheeks and forehead, his nose twisted as though shattered and never healed properly. His lips—if they could even be called that—were little more than uneven strips of skin, remnants of what had once been, and his pale, watery eyes glinted with suspicion. He tilted his head, expression unreadable.

What could he say? He was cornered, unarmed, and completely out of his depth. His mind scrambled for an answer, for a way to diffuse the tension coiling in the air like a snake ready to strike. He had no lip balm left to say he’d dropped it. He’d given that to Kenny! And he wasn’t a Natural Science student. Nor chemistry. Or any other person who had the right to be in here, right now. But he hadn’t got what he’d come in here for.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I was just…curious.”

It was horrifying. To think this man—broken and scarred—was the one orchestrating deaths so easily, so casually. To turn something as tender and intimate as a kiss into a weapon of death. Yet, despite the revulsion churning in his stomach, Aaron couldn’t stop the pang of sympathy worming its way into his chest.

He knew what Peter had been through. Knew, in excruciating detail, what his parents had done to him. Stripping him of his dignity, his autonomy, his very humanity. What if it had beenhim? What if he’d had all that taken from him? How would that have affected him? What if he couldn’t kiss Kenny? Couldn’t feel Kenny’s hands on him, gripping him, stroking him, driving him to the edge of blissful ecstasy as he had last night.

“Come for me, baby.”

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