Page 28 of No Mercy In Red

Lara’s voice dropped to a whisper, cautious yet playful. “So… you gonna tell me anything about your sexy stalker yet, or am I gonna have to keep guessing?”

I hesitated. How do I tell her that in fact, yes, he really was a stalker, and not like a funny, cute, ‘oh youstalker’, kind of stalker. But like, an actual fucking stalker.

“He’s… complicated.”

“Complicated,” she echoed skeptically. “Right, because that’s always healthy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Healthy is overrated.”

“True, boring as fuck, too,” She conceded. “Is he at least good in bed?”

“Mind-blowingly good.” I replied with a sigh.

Lara groaned dramatically. “Fuck you. I’ve been sleeping with tinder fuckboys who think two pumps and a slap on the ass makes them pornstars.”

We both laughed, and for a moment, life just felt peaceful, like old times when the most complicated thing about life was trying to get through college and fucking as many college boys as we could.

Then Lara shattered that peace entirely.

“Oh shit,” she said suddenly, sobering slightly. “I nearly forgot. So the serial killer I mentioned earlier this week...”

My stomach plummeted through the dock beneath me. “Yeah?”

“Apparently, now the entire police force is onto it and they think they’re close.”

My heart pounded, I could feel the colour draining from my face. Fuck, had my cover slipped? Was this it?

“Oh?” I managed weakly, praying she wouldn’t notice the tremble in my voice.

“Yeah, crazy, right? Anyway, like I said before, probably just rumours. You know how gossip travels when you live in a small town.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Forget I said anything.”

But I couldn’t forget. I spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking, pretending everything was normal, while paranoia churnedrelentlessly in my gut. If Lara knew, if whispers about me were spreading – then how much longer did I have before the walls came crashing down? And if those whispers were true, if they thought they were close to finding the killer, to finding me, then my life was over.

By the second day at the lake, I was almost ready to forget my paranoia. Almost. We had spent the day swimming in the lake, eating BBQ food that we had cooked on the grill whilst catching each other up on the more mundane parts of our lives. Lara was self employed, being a fashion blogger online really took off for her, and she was doing amazing. She spoke about how there were a few opportunities in Paris that kept popping up, but she didn’t know if she could handle working for somebody else after being her own boss for so long. Lara’s work ethic was something I truly admired about her. When people saw her, they just saw a slutty little blonde who loved talking about sex and going out partying. But she had grown her online empire all by herself, pouring her soul into her work and it had truly paid off, she was basically a celebrity in the fashion blogger world.

That evening Lara dragged me out to a local bar filled with tourists and weekend vacationers, excited to find some ’grade A dick’ as she so eloquently put it. It was the only bar for miles, filled with pool tables and music blasting. It was crammed inside, with bodies moving to the heavy beats, and alcohol flowing freely.

“Come on, Max,” Lara pleaded, pushing another shot into my hands. “Live a little. I know you’re thirty now, but you don’t have to act old!”

“Fuck off,” I laughed, knocking back the shot, wincing at the burn. “If I’m old, what does that make you?”

“A certified cougar,” she announced proudly. “And I plan to prove it tonight.”

I laughed, feeling warm, fuzzy, and blissfully numb. I danced, laughing at Lara’s shit attempts at the robot. Temporarily forgettingeverything felt good. But hours later, lying awake alone in my room after Lara had successfully pulled some biker guy, the silence was deafening. She had begged me to go and hook up with his friends, but I declined, saying I was going to head back to the house instead, telling her to have fun for me. Connors face was back in my mind, invading every thought. His dark eyes, intense, possessive – the way he touched me, broke me down, had my body bedding for more. Heat pooled to my core as I thought about the way he had trailed his mouth all over my body, the way he had made me hold his cum in my mouth so he could drink it out. He was absolutely fucking filthy, in all the right ways, and I missed him. God, how fucked up was that? Missing my own damn stalker. I sighed heavily, rolling onto my side. I’d come here to escape, but the only thing I’d truly escaped was my sanity. Tomorrow, I’d have to go back and face reality – and Connor. And fuck, I had no idea if I was terrified or excited about that.

Maybe both.

I woke up before sunrise, my mind fuzzy from the lingering traces of alcohol. Blinking at the ceiling, I stretched lazily, letting myself sink into the quiet peace of the lake house before the weight of reality came crashing back. I was gong home today, back to the endless cycle of filing away dismissals and watching the monsters I chose not to hunt slip through the cracks —I had to be careful, I couldn’t remove every monster from the world, I was just one person. was going back to. But I wasn’t just going back to my mundane job, I was going back to Connor and whatever the fuck was happening between us. My pulse quickened at the thought of him – his perfect mouth, demanding touch, the possessive hunger he always held in his gaze that made me weak. My God, I had issues. I forced myself from bed, padding barefoot into the kitchen. I needed coffee and clarity, the latter not being likely, but hey – a girl could dream.

I’d just poured myself a steaming mug when the front door slammed shut, followed by quiet giggles. I spun around, my heart jumping in mychest just in time to see Lara tiptoeing into the kitchen, wearing the previous nights dress and smeared lipstick.

“Well, good morning, Cinderella,” I said, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “Lose a glass slipper, or just your dignity? What was this one’s name?”

She glared playfully, flipping me off, holding up just one shoe with the other hand. “Both, actually. And if you must know, his name was… Drew? Derek? Something with a D. Definitely started with a D.”

I snorted into my coffee. “Classy.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk,” she shot back, pouring herself a generous cup of coffee. “At least my hookup wasn’t my admitted stalker. Did he even buy you dinner first?”

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