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“This food is amazing, baby,” he compliments loudly. Just like that, I feel better. Happiness floods my chest. Making Ryan happy always does that to me.
“Thanks,” I beam. Mako glances at him with barely disguised disgust.
“So, how’s the case coming?” I ask, hoping to take all of our minds off t
his weird interaction.
“We’re making progress,” Mako says the same time Ryan says, “Don’t concern yourself with that, babe.”
I frown at the conflicting answers. Ryan never talks about work with me. I’m sure there a lot of things that are confidential, but he always shuts me down even on the simplest questions. I’ve tried to show interest in what Ryan does, but peppering him with questions only irritates him.
Ryan the boyfriend and Ryan the lawyer are two separate entities. I don’t know the second person, and sometimes that bothers me. I’d love nothing more than to see Ryan in action. I know he’s a fierce lawyer and seeing it with my own eyes would be incredibly rewarding. And maybe a little hot, too.
Mako gives Ryan a look I can’t name, distracting me from my thoughts.
“As long as Ryan’s client cooperates, I think we’ll be able to catch the killer,” Mako continues.
Ryan drops his fork on the plate angrily and looks at Mako with a filthy look. I look down at his plate, inspecting it for chips or scratches.
“I don’t want to talk about work at the dinner table,” he snaps, drawing my eyes back up to his reddening face.
Mako doesn’t even spare him a glance. He chews on a piece of asparagus slowly, as if he’s contemplating his next words.
“His client witnessed a murder.”
“A murder?” the question slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.
Ryan’s murderous eyes snap to me. Immediately, I stuff a piece of meatloaf in my mouth and keep my eyes down on my plate. The familiar fingers of anxiety start to filter throughout my body, touching all my vital organs until every part of me is gripped with dread.
I made a mistake. Ryan’s going to be so mad at me now. He doesn’t want to talk about the case. Mako’s ignoring his request and I just egged it on.
Stupid, River. Stupid.
“He’s dubbed the Ghost Killer. He’s linked to drug trafficking as well.”
As soon as the name leaves his mouth, my heart seizes in my chest. I’ve never heard the moniker, but it brings up the horrific memories of that night. Billy calling me a ghost as he beat and raped me. Billy—who deals heavily with drugs, arms, and probably even the skin trade. Billy—who kills people.
Lots of people.
Forcibly, I swallow the now dry meatloaf in my mouth. I nearly choke on it as it slides down my throat and settles heavily in my stomach.
This time, I don’t care that I’m pushing Ryan’s buttons. No amount of fear can compare to what Billy instills in me. If he’s out there, publicly killing people so carelessly… That could only mean one thing.
“Why is he called the Ghost Killer?” I ask softly.
“Because he carves the word ‘Ghost’ into his victim’s chests before he kills them.”
My hand trembles. Carefully, I set down my fork, and then rub my sweaty hands down my pretty pink dress. Sweat dots my forehead and slides down my spine, accompanied by cold shivers. I feel sick.
“That’s enough,” Ryan barks, his fist thumping loudly against the table, rattling the china. “You’re upsetting her.”
Mako inspects me closely, noting my obvious discomfort. I let them assume it’s because murder gives me the chills when in reality, it’s just the fact that I know who the murderer is.
Much to my relief, Mako listens. He continues to eat his meatloaf, this time with a little more ease. Maybe it’s worth it now since Mako succeeded in pissing off Ryan as much as Ryan pissed him off with the food.
The rest of dinner passes by in tense silence.
Ryan is fuming, and I… I need to go see Barbie.
