I can see her sitting on her bed, peering over my shoulder as I draw in one of her sketchpads.
“Woah, Flynny. That’s good.”
“It is?”
“No, like seriously, that’s insanely good.”
Drawing and photography became my refuge. Something I could narrow my focus on when the pressure became too much and all I wanted to do was break and burn. I owe Hope a lot. She understood me in a way no one else did and in return I failed her. I didn’t see that she was breaking until it was too late.
Carly blinks away her tears and stands up. She holds the diary out to me, settling her hand on mine when I go to take it. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Flynn. I can’t lose you too.”
“I’ll get Lachlan to tell you when it’s done.”
Her eyes crease, a sad smile on her lips. “That’s not a promise.” Carly cups my cheek, running her thumb over my cheek bone before letting her hand fall and brushing past me out into the hall.
I take a look around Hope’s room, a memory caught in time. Her desk is still cluttered with paints and school notebooks. A lilac bottle of nail polish sits on the edge of her bookshelf. It’s the same shade as Hazel’s phone case and I pocket it before leaving the room.
After saying goodbye to Carly, I walk back over to where I parked my bike.
My phone pings, letting me know Hazel’s on the move again. I frown because according to her schedule, she should be at work for another five hours. Pulling up the tracking app I installed on her phone, I lean against my bike as I watch the little green dot leave the dispatch center.
“What are you up to, Lilac?” I mutter. The dot continues moving and I keep half an eye on it as I tuck Hope’s diary safely away in the top box. I’ll read through the diary later. Right now, I have some stalking to do.
11
THAT ONE TIME A SERIAL KILLER CRASHED MY DATE
Hazel
The coffee shopdoor dings as I open it and I get in a fight with the damn puffer jacket as I take it off. I’m mad at myself for putting it back on when I left the office. It’s not like Flynn could see me at work. I could have left it off, but I didn’t. And part of me knows it’s because I knew he wouldn’t want me to, and isn’t that just all kinds of messed up?
I’m on a mission to forget the other night with Flynn ever happened. So far, I’m failing miserably but I refuse to cancel my date with Derek. Maybe getting a coffee with a sane, decent guy will break me out of this habit I have of picking the worst possible men.
Serial killer or Cop: A new dating show coming to ABC this July.
I lock the memory of Flynn’s hand between my thighs away in a solid vault and scan the coffee shop for Derek. He’s not here yet so I pick a table near the back. Shoving my coat over the back of the chair, I take out my phone and send a message to the group chat I have with Wright and Olivia.
Hazel
This was a bad idea.
Wright
Because you’d rather be on a date with a certain serial unaliver?
Olivia
You know you can just say killer on here, right?
Wright
Shh you.
Hazel
For the record, I would not rather be on a date with Flynn.
Wright
