“Sorry, Vic. What did you say?” I grimaced at how much of a bad friend and partner I had been recently. But I couldn’t worry about that when I had more pressing matters to attend to.
Like healing from a knife wound. That had been inflicted by my boyfriend. Who was a serial killer.
Just as she started to repeat herself, there was a knock on the front door.
Jesus Christ. Would no one leave me alone today?
“Sorry, V, someone’s here. I’ll have to call you back.” I hung up and winced as I pulled myself off the couch. I had to take a moment to catch my breath before I stumbled through the house to get to the door.
Whoever was at the door banged a few more times. Each time, my heart raced faster and faster.
I couldn’t help but fear that it was the police. That they had found out about Nate and what he had done. Maybe someone had seen him bring me into the house, but then never saw me leave, and reported a welfare check.
Fuck.
Or, whoever he had killed at his house had left a trail. We had said the killer was devolving, spiraling. And killing in his own home would have been the epitome of desperation. I thought I remembered seeing a food bag on his counter.
Oh, Nate, what did you do?
The timing of Victoria’s call and the knocking made me suspicious. Had she been checking to see where I was? To see if Nate was with me?
When I got to the door, the large blanket trailing behind me, wrapped around my shoulders. I pulled it tighter around me, like a shield as I yanked the door open without even bothering to look to see who it was.
When I saw him standing there, my vision swam, and I had to grab a hold of the doorframe to keep upright.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
33
NATHAN
Iagonized over what to do, even going as far as changing my mind at least a half-dozen times. It was so unlike me. Normally, I didn’t care about such things—about people. When I made my mind up about something, that was it. I didn’t care enough to change my mind.
But when it came to Aiden, he mattered.
I waffled between the urge to run and find somewhere new to settle so that I could maintain my freedom and the desire to make sure he was all right. Of course, I didn’t think it would be four days later, and I still wouldn’t have heard from him—or, more likely, the police.
To be honest, I’d been pretty certain that within twenty-four hours, the SWAT team would have been breaking down my door, and a big man with a gun in my face would have been begging me to give him a reason to shoot. But none of that happened.
In fact, it was as though none of it happened. The radio silence from Aiden was the only clue to the reality of the events from that night.
Unable to take the silence, the unknowing, any longer, I did the only thing I could.
I decided to head to his place. I wasn’t going to knock or let him know I was there, but I needed to make sure he was okay. That resolve lasted until I actually got to his house and parked my car.
The next thing I knew, I was knocking on his door like the idiot I was. But there was no answer. His car was in the driveway, so I knew he was home. So, I knocked again, louder. And again, even louder.
My heart raced in my chest as a thousand scenarios bombarded me of what could have happened. Of everything that could have gone wrong. Maybe the wound had reopened and he bled out without anyone knowing. What if he had fallen and got injured and no one was there to help him?
Fuck. I never should have left him alone. Especially for so long, without checking on him. If anything happened to my little bird, I’d never forgive myself.
I went to knock again, praying he was just asleep or in the bathroom and would open the door any minute.
But as I raised my hand, the door swung open, and my heart sank.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Aiden spat out.
His body immediately recoiled when he saw me, grabbing onto the doorway to keep his balance. Though, from the looks of him, I wasn’t sure it was due to the surprise of seeing me. He looked like shit, all pale and sweaty, with a blanket pulled tight around him.
