Page 80 of Acceptance

“Wait, did you say fourteen murders?” a woman asks, pushing her way to the front.

One of the men in the front tries to elbow her back from the front of the line, and Undertaker tilts his head. “Do you think that’s a smart move? To physically assault a woman in front of men who just took down a potential serial killer?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to talk to you. Can we get him removed?” Colt asks. “Or, if you’ll turn off your cameras, I’ll remove him myself.”

“Get back, Bradshaw. It’s probably best for your health,” someone says, and he disappears into the back of the group.

Smiling, Colt nods. “Good move.”

“Inside the warehouse, there are fourteen souvenirs for the cops to bag and tag,” Undertaker says. “The man we apprehended says we’ll never find the first bodies. He only started putting the bodies around town when he got bored and wanted a chase.”

“Shouldn’t you have just… killed him?” the female reporter asks. “I mean, the town would be safer, right?”

“Unlike the GBPD, we believe the victims should be identified. It may not happen if he’s dead, even with the evidence collected. We have the top-tier Keystone Cops running this department, after all,” Colt says.

More questions fly around them, but Colt holds his hands up. He’s apparently done answering questions, and Undertaker just laughs as he sees Julian standing next to the ambulance.

“My suggestion is to call Tate Investigations if anyone believes their loved one may be one of the victims. He’ll get you answers a lot quicker than the cops will,” Colt says.

Nodding at Travis and Julian, Colt smirks and walks to his bike, the rest of the club joining him. Grayson stays back with the cops, discussing with Alex what happened and how.

Something still feels unsettled, but Undertaker has nothing to go off of other than his gut. He has to accept the case is as solved as it’s going to be. Now, he needs to focus on winning Jamie back.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Griffin’s Beach

Jamie

Walking up to the house Jamie believed she’d have more time in, she tries to calm her racing heart. Undertaker’s already inside because his bike sits in the driveway, and she feels sick.

I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep fighting him. The love won’t disappear anytime soon. Can I do this? Or should I just turn around and leave?

She squares her shoulders, determined to be as strong as possible, and she opens the door.

“Hey,” Undertaker says, turning to face her.

There’s a cut in his leather she sees in the light from the lamp behind him, and she points at it. “What happened?”

“What?”

“Your leather’s cut.”

Looking down, Undertaker shifts, and Jamie can see the blood on his jeans now. “Oh, I got stabbed.”

Oh, I got stabbed?“What?”

“The guy… The killer… He sliced me.”

“Are you okay?” she gasps and steps forward to lift his shirt, making him wince at her touch.

The makeshift stitches prove he did this himself. No self-respecting doctor would have done this, let alone allow someone to walk away sporting these.

“I’m fine,” he says, pushing his shirt down. He takes her hand in his and sighs. “I don’t even feel it.”

Pulling her hand from his, she steps back. “How can you not feel it? You got stabbed. And then you stitched yourself up.”

“Pain only hurts if you let it.”

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