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Reporters. Hundreds of them line the front of the building. I wasn’t expecting a media show. Inwardly, I cringe at the crowd. This is for Sienna. I take one step after another and fight my way through, pushing to the front. I’m all but ignored as heads bob up and down, trying to get a glimpse of something on the inside.
Finally, I make it to the front and find two cops at the doors, trying to keep the chaos to a reasonable level.
“I’m here for Sienna Levine,” I announce, ready to go through more detail with all the flashes and cameras at my back. I’m a private person and this is causing my hands to sweat. It’s the least I can do.
To my surprise, they open the door. The flashes go crazy as the vultures try to get a glimpse of inside.What is happening?I shake my head. Everyone has gone crazy.
Sienna rounds the corner and her eyes widen seeing me. She stops in her tracks, looking cautious and unsure. I can’t help myself. I wrap my arms around her, lifting her up. This will be the last time I can hold her. I try to memorize the way she feels. Taking a deep breath, I breathe her in, wishing I could remember this forever. It will be the sound of her voice and her smell that’s the first of the memories that go. I hold her so tight, never wanting to let her go. This is worth everything.
“Why are you here?” she asks, squirming in my hold.
It pains me to let her go. My fingers try to keep her until she takes a step out of my grasp.
“I’m getting you out of here,” I say quietly, wanting as much time with her as possible before this turns into a circus.
She touches my arm. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m out.”
My lips flatten as I look from her to the madness outside. “How?”
“The real killer confessed this morning. Do you remember the bartender from Oakport Beach? It was him.”
“Impossible,” I say, confused.
“That’s why all the reporters. I guess he called them and wrote a five-page letter to all of the newspapers. He knows details that have never been released.”
My feet shuffle in a circle, trying to comprehend what she’s saying. Elliot came here as me?
“He said he won’t hide behind newspaper letters like the Zodiac and wants his face to go down in history.”
I don’t know if I should be insulted or impressed.
“You didn’t need to come down here though. My Uber is waiting. Bye Max.” She leans in and kisses me on the cheek, her sweet scent wrapping around me, and I don’t want to move from it. I watch her walk away from me once again.
This gives me an easy way out. She’s alive, safe…I made sure of it. This is the part where she gets erased from my life and I continue on how I was for decades, before my obsession with her started. Letting her walk out of here was the plan, but I thought something would be holding me back. This isn’t the plan.
It starts off gradual, my heart thudding like a dull ache before it thunders, tightening its grip and morphing into crippling pain instead of relief. My normal, calm breathing is choppy, like it’s being severed by her walking away. She doesn’t look back or pause.
Despite my best efforts, none of the raw tenderness—no, pain—is subsiding.
“Can I help you, sir?” The front desk lady is looking at me strangely. “Are you okay?”
I wipe at my sweat-soaked forehead. For the last few years, all I wanted was someone to take the fall for my murders. I searched for the perfect scapegoat. Am I okay with Elliot taking the blame? I should be, even though he did it underhandedly.
I wait for the jealousy that someone else will be named. I take pride in my work and this is like someone plagiarizing it. Stealing from me.
“I’m fine.” I walk out of the station, realizing I don’t need the credit. It was never about that, and the reason why I changed how I disposed of the bodies. I never wanted the fame from it, or needed trophies. It was just something I did.
Elliot can have it. Hell, he’ll do it better than me, and I have no doubt he will go down in history like he wants. The reporters ignore me, I’m insignificant in their eyes. I prefer that, it was how I was brought up. The only person’s eyes I never want to be insignificant in are hers.
Sienna might be done with me, but I’m far from done with her.
Chapter 34: Sienna
Threedayslater,there’sanother article about The Butcher in the newspaper, chronicling his last three victims before he turned himself in. My father, Jack, and Officer McCain.
I almost laugh at the city celebrating about catching a serial killer that has plagued the United States for twenty years. I down my second beer, feeling sorry for myself, but over what, I don’t know. I’m free for the first time in my life. I should be rejoicing. Instead, I feel like crying.
I glance over at my phone, rereading the text message I sent to Max.Our streets are safe once again. Is it true?It goes unanswered.
