Page 112 of Shadowman
Killed Byron’s friend… Lemuel is studying him…
I gasp. “Hang on… That serial killer who was terrorizing New York City??”
The Ivory simply blinks, confirming without an actual answer that this is correct. And I’m reeling so hard, I’m dizzy.
Of course, I’ve heard of The Carver.Everyonehas. His case was all over the bloody news for months. I’d forgotten that his name was Felix Darcey, but it’s all coming back to me now…
The reports said he died; was shot and killed by police when they were attempting to arrest him, which is why I didn’t put two and two together when Byron said The Carver killed his friend.
He’s not dead. He’shere, being seen by Dr. Love…In more ways than one, apparently!
I stare blankly at The Ivory.This is bloody bonkers…
The Carver is Dr. Love’s patient.
Dr. Love is sleeping with his patient?!
My head is swimming, and I feel like I could collapse. My eyes are stuck on Dr. Love, the man who’d been mywhole world, and the doe-eyed monster he’s apparently fucking.
The psychopath who stole him from me.
Felix… Darcey.
Coiled and volatile, I’m shattered and hating it. At the very least, I used to cling to the idea that Dr. Love wasstraight, and that was why we could never be… anything. I mean, I wassureof it.
Like the time that I arrived early for my appointment, and he was just returning from lunch with a woman. I pretended not to be subtly watching them, pretended not to overhear their conversation. But I knew it was his girlfriend.
Gabrielle… Of course I remember her name. I’ve never forgotten it. I’d seen her outside the building before, heard his assistant mention her.
Thatwas who he was dating.Thatwas his type…
Not this murderous, preppy twink!
“What the fuck…” I choke on the words, watching the screen with wide eyes, unable to look away.
It’s blindingly clear that they’re not just shagging. They look…happy. They look like they’re in love…Deeplove. The kind that’s visible from miles away. I cannot even fathom that I’m seeingDr. Lemuel Love,robot man, looking atanyonelike that, let alone a guy.
Let alonethatguy.
A serial killer…
He’s in a relationship with a serial killer.
When the two of them finally pry apart, I’m nauseated by how obsessed they appear to be. All flushed and starry-eyed, touching each other as if they physically can’t keep their hands off. My entire body is heavy, watching them display such sickeningly sweet affection, in their own little bubble, without a care in the world.
But that’s not the case now, is it?
They’renoton a relaxing weekend getaway, they’re in aprison, surrounded by cameras and prisoners and guards… andformer bloody patients!
“Let’s get you clean, dirty thing,” Lemuel says, and I’mrippling.
“How long has he been fucking this bloke??” I seethe, eyes practically glued to the screen as I watch Dr. Love take the hand of his smitten pal, the two of them scampering down the hall in the opposite direction. “I mean,howis that… Why are you showing me this??”
The Ivory’s lips twitch. He slaps the laptop shut, and I’m forced to focus on him now, though it seems impossible. I feel like my organs are failing, blood rushing in my ears. My palms are sweating and my heart is racing…
I’m falling apart.
Reclining, Manuel Blanco opens his desk drawer, pulling out an orange. “I wanted you to have all of the information.” He begins peeling it while speaking, “Surely, you see what I mean. Lemuel is in dire need of some perspective.”
