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“Well, my cousin works at the DMV, so just text it to me. Consider this the only thing I’m willing to do to help my friend date a serial killer.”

I launch forward, hugging her tightly. “You’re an angel! I can’t believe it! You’d really do that?”

“Against my better judgment…yes. I guess my love for my best friend overshadows the bright red, flashing sirens going off in my brain. Just promise you won’t keep anything about this from me again. Okay?”

I nod.

I feel…lighter. It’s a huge relief to be able to tell my best friend everything I’ve been keeping from her. I can tell she’s holding back some of her harsher opinions, but I appreciate that she’s attempting to be as supportive as possible.

“For now, let’s sleep. We’ll see what my cousin says tomorrow,” she says as she reaches over and switches off the light on her nightstand.

The next morning is uncharacteristically sunny for us, but I’ll take any ounce of sunshine I can get. For once, as I step onto the bus, I’m not covered in rain and looking at the darkness. My phone dings in my pocket.

Wendy

Sorry, I guess your theory was wrong. Don’t worry, we’ll have a group research video chat soon. Miss you guys anyway!

Me

yeah…I guess I was wrong! text you guys later

This is good. I shouldn’t have told them anyway, I was just so excited to see him I wanted to tell someone something. But now they think I was way off base, so now his secret is safer.

I swipe out of the group chat and open my photos. I smile to myself as I see the screenshotted driver’s license I now have saved.

I promise I’ll be better from now on about keeping your secrets, Kane Mercer.

CHAPTER NINE

Why Is It Camo?

KANE

What a fucking shit show last night was. I could have handled just losing the opportunity to get my prey. I can always come back for him, even if I have to play the long game.

But her? Why? How?

How on Earth could she have actually figured out exactly who I was killing next? Had I been so fucking careless that some random twenty-year-old girl can predict my every move?

I covered my tracks. I always keep everything clean. I use a tool with gloves on. In and fucking out. Now the same week my photo gets leaked, this girl finds me?

No, it can’t be a coincidence. There’s no way I can trust that she truly has no motive here. She must be working with someone else or maybe acting on someone’s behalf. Or shit, maybe she’s so sweet someone has tricked her into being the front.

Or…maybe she is being honest. Maybe she is the victim from that case. I checked last night—the case records have the former minor’s name redacted. But even if I let myself think for a second she’s telling the truth, I’m still screwed. Because if she’s just a naive girl, she’s seen my fucking face. Well, not all of it, since I luckily had my mask on. Thank fuck she didn’t, because at least she can’t identify me from a police line-up.

Fuck.

I can only change my pattern, and hope she never cracks it again. At this point I’m just hoping she isn’t undercover and that the feds won’t be on me soon. Once that looming threat passes with time, I’ll feel better.

I’m lost in thought when I hear someone call out to me, and I bang my head on the underside of the car I’ve been working on.

“Shit!”

I slide myself out from underneath the car on the creeper and see the man who came and dropped it off. I stand up, wiping the grease off my hands onto my jeans.

“Sorry man, didn’t mean to creep up on you like that,” he offers with a smile.

“No problem, I was just focused. She’s about done now, I just have to run another diagnostic and make sure the warning cleared.”