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“You work with Tic Tac, and he seemed to really appreciate my thoughts this morning.”
My lips press together. “Obviously, Tic Tac and I need to chat.”
Once again, he jabbers on as if I haven’t spoken, and he’s following up on a thought thread we’re sharing. “And I know we have to assume that chainsaw is in the building, but this guy has to know we’ll search and find it. Which means it’s not there or it’s completely clean. A perfect record is hard for anyone to maintain.”
Now he’s simply stating basic data we all can read ourselves. “Don’t you have a job to do?”
“Yes, but—”
“Hanging up. That’s what I do.” I disconnect but I also think about his reference to this being someone with a medical background. That leads me to Landry Williams, who owes me the name of a patient who recommended the horror club to him. Landry Williams who isa doctor. I dial him now and end up in his voicemail. “It’s Agent Love-Mendez. Call me back.” I disconnect and Kane offers me a fresh cup of coffee.
“I’m going to shower. I have to go to the office to deal with this supply problem.”
I blink up at him and innocently ask—when we all know I don’t have an innocent bone in my body, “What kind of supply issue?”
“The kind that fills gas tanks, bella, and you know it.”
He walks away and my phone buzzes with a text message. I glance down to find a message from Jack,of course:You hung up before I could warn you. Watch theScreammovies, Lilah. He told you who the next victim is and it’s you.
I can only hope, I think. Because Jack clearly does not know me well enough to know that I am no victim. And we can only hope the killer is that stupid. However, since I’m not stupid, I won’t be telling Kane some freak in a mask wants to kill me.
Though if I told him it’s aScreamkilling with a knife, he might just laugh.
Or not.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I order donuts—because let’s just face it—there are times when donuts are life.
The day after a panic attack in a river of blood I want to deny and it makes me look like a little bitch is one of those days.
With our downstairs security set to accept the delivery, I kill the time until my sugar rush by joining Kane in the shower.
“I ordered donuts,” I inform him, stepping under the stream of water with him, all nice and close. “They have lots of calories. Can you help?”
Kane loves to help me solve my problems and he does. When it’s all said and done, whenwe are done, I’m left starving, and thankfully feeling guiltless about the éclair waiting on me in my very near future.
I dress to kick ass and confuse, in a black pantsuit, a red silk blouse—better to hide the blood should I get stabby—and Gucci heels. My hair is a silky, shiny brown, draped at my shoulders. I like looking like a woman. A love for clothes, makeup, and pretty things is a connection I shared with my movie star mother. She was the perfect woman in all ways. There was no knife or gun in her purse and I don’t even think she knew how to shoot a firearm.
She wouldn’t approve of me now.
Or maybe, she knew things I didn’t know back in the day, and therefore she would, in fact, approve of me in every way. Okay, most ways. She’d be appalled at my language, but not over Kane. She always believed people should be judged by themselves, not others. And I’m alive, partially thanks to Kane, the way she would want me to be, even if I’m slow to avenge her death. The doorbell rings and Kane exits the closet,alsowearing Gucci. In fact, his cool blue, perfectly fitted Gucci suit inspires my shoe choice. Actually, the long, knife-like heels did the most to inspire me. One day, I’ll use a high heel as a weapon. I’ve been waiting for the chance to make that happen when it won’t be called “assault.” So far, I’ve contemplated that move, but never felt I could get away with it.
Jack might change my mind.
He’s already called me two more times, and I’ve answered all of never times.
“That will be Kit and Jay,” Kane says of our visitor, or in this case, visitors. “I’ll go meet them.”
“If they didn’t bring the donuts with them, they aren’t welcome.”
“They know you well enough to bring the donuts, Lilah,” he assures me. “It’s better for their safety and sanity.”
He knows me so well. It’s really quite romantic.
As for his prediction about our donut-carrying bodyguards, it proves accurate. Mostly. I enter the kitchen a few minutes later to find my éclair in Jay’s mouth.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” I demand.
