30. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Hydessa

W aking slowly, I instantly wish I could go back to sleep to escape the pain. I groan as I roll over on the bed, every part of my body hurts. My phone chimes with a notification and for a moment I contemplate throwing it at a wall.

Is sex meant to make you feel so good but so bad at the same time? Is that what I've been doing wrong all these years?

Picking up my phone I click on the notification and almost sigh in relief when I see who it's from.

UNCLE MAX

I looked into the images. I've sent you what I could find, which isn't much. Every single one of your suspected victims has what I would call a dubious background. Limited information, some bouncing between homes and streets, some other bad behaviors.

I couldn't even find all of them, like some never existed. Something made them get on a bus to that island, and I can find the ticket purchase for a couple. There is then no record of them getting off the bus there and certainly no record of them on the island itself, no purchases, no accommodations.

Either they are paying it all in cash with a fake name or the records have been wiped clean and even I can't find a trace, so someone good with tech, or maybe a conspiracy. Could a group of people be in on it? Law, property rentals, etc? Let me know if you need anything else.

I sit up, ignoring the protest from my aching muscles, and read the message again, my mind racing. Uncle Max is the best when it comes to digging up dirt, and if he's still hitting walls, then something is off on a bigger level.

I quickly type back a response.

Thanks, Uncle Max. It's very strange. I'll need to keep digging on my end. Do you think there's a way to trace the cash payments? I've met the person who looks after rentals, she doesn't seem like the type to wipe records, it would have to be someone else or simply them hiding under fake names or something. But why?

Hitting send, I lean back against the headboard and close my eyes, thinking. But my phone buzzes again, and I see a quick reply.

UNCLE MAX

Like I said, kid, dubious and bad behavior. Something drew them to that island. As for the cash payments, it's unlikely we will find anything. People use cash for a reason. Stay safe.

I put my phone down and take a deep breath, trying to process everything. The pieces aren't fitting together, and the more I dig, the more questions I have.

I force myself to stand, ignoring the pain shooting through my body as I make my way toward the bathroom. Piercings feel phenomenal in the moment… but the next day, not so much.

Stepping into the shower I almost moan at the feeling of the water cascading over me, soothing my aching muscles. Seriously, who needs the gym when you can simply have a masked man chase you through a carnival ground, then fuck you so good it hurts.

Because I have to admit it to myself, the fucking is very good. I will be sad if this all leads to me having to take them out for killing innocent people. I will miss their cocks and the way they make me feel like they actually see me.

They talk about me accepting my darkness, but can I accept theirs if they do take innocent lives? The conflict within me churns as I struggle to reconcile the pleasure they give me with the darker realities of the investigation.

For a moment, I let myself relax under the spray, closing my eyes and just enjoying the sensation. I let my mind go blank with no regrets, no murderers, just nothingness as the steam builds in the room.

Reluctantly, when the water starts to grow cold, I step out and dry off, the steam filling the room as I wrap myself in a towel. Reality begins to set in again, and with it comes emotions I'm not ready to face.

Looking down at the cuts and marks on my body, my mind reflects on the message I received the day before. No covering the marks, huh? Surely that doesn't extend to clothing, I only brought a limited supply afterall, they can't really punish me for that right? Choosing a sleeveless turtleneck summer dress in a light blue, I am happy with how the look is casual but also beachy. It falls just below my thighs and the blue of it makes my eyes even brighter.

My stomach rumbles, reminding me it's been too long since I last ate. Deciding to head to the bakery, I make my way downstairs toward the office to get my tablet. The files Uncle Max sent should already be loaded.

Entering the room, I glance at the investigation wall covered with images of the victims, their faces staring back at me. What brought them to this island? What drew them into whatever dark web I seem to have been pulled into? The questions swirl in my mind like a storm threatening to break loose.

It's already late morning when I start making my way toward the beachfront, the sun is warm against my skin and the gentle breeze carries the scent of the sea. It warms something inside me, deeper than my skin and a smile spreads across my lips naturally.

I thankfully miss the morning rush at the bakery, and the comforting aroma of cinnamon rolls and freshly brewed coffee envelopes me, momentarily easing the weight of my thoughts when I push through the door.

Allegra greets me with a large smile. "Good morning, Taylor!"

"Morning, Allegra," I reply, feeling a twinge of guilt for not reciprocating her enthusiasm because my body hurts and I just need some coffee. She doesn't seem to mind as she takes my order for a large steaming latte and one of the cinnamon rolls. I choose a table by the window and she soon places my order down in front of me.

I'm grateful she seems to understand I'm not up for conversation today as she quickly retreats to the counter, giving me the space I need. I sip my coffee, savoring the rich flavor as I scroll through the files on my tablet. The faces of the victims continue to haunt me, their stories incomplete and shrouded in mystery.

Uncle Max's findings are frustratingly vague. There are too many gaps, too many unknowns. I flip through the images again, my mind racing with questions. Who had the skill or ability to erase these people from existence?

None of the locals I have interacted with seem to have the computer skills, even Ty said that there is no tech person on the island. But he could be saying that on purpose. Maddie has access to the rental records so could easily erase them, but I don't see her helping dispose of bodies, but then something about the way Allegra hinted at getting rid of a body made it actually seem possible. They aren't my masked stalkers, but could one of them be helping them.

The Sheriff and Eli could definitely make someone disappear, both physically and from police files, if I have learned anything from my parents it's how easily corruptible law enforcement can be.

I'm sure Jonah could dumb a body out to sea, but would a fisherman know how to make them disappear digitally? But then the lifeguard Maddie mentioned could also take the bodies into the water, I haven't even met him but already I want to add him to the list. Would either Telvin or Rye's businesses have access to a wood chipper to dispose of a body? And could they manipulate the records? Seems doubtful, but not to be dismissed.

Ty certainly knows how to keep a sterile working environment, he could certainly clean up after himself, and he was the one that told me there is no one good with tech on the island. Could that be a cover?

So many possibilities…

Finishing the roll and coffee I make my way to the beach. The sun warms my skin and the salty breeze tangles my hair. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore is soothing, offering a brief respite from the turmoil in my mind. The sand is soft beneath my feet and even though my thighs ache,, I let my thoughts wander as I walk along the water's edge.

Up ahead, I spot someone coming out of the waves. As I get closer, I recognize the striking red hair—it's Beth from the bus stop. She's just emerging from the surf, droplets of water glistening on her skin as she pushes her hair back and spots me.

"Hey, Beth!" I call out, waving as I approach.

She smiles warmly and waves back. "Hey, Taylor! Enjoying your morning?"

"Yeah," I reply politely, matching her smile. "How about you? How are you settling in? Enjoying the island?"

Beth wrings out her hair and nods. "It's been great so far. The island is beautiful, and the people are super friendly. It's a nice change of pace from the city."

"Yeah, I completely agree," I say, surprising myself with the enthusiasm in my voice. "The island has such a different vibe. It's like stepping into another world."

Beth raises an eyebrow and looks at me curiously. "You sound like a city girl," she remarks, a hint of amusement in her tone.

I laugh softly, nodding. "Guilty as charged. I grew up in the city and have been living there most of my life. The hustle and bustle, the noise, the constant activity—it's what I'm used to. But I have to admit, the island's charm is really growing on me."

"Really?" Beth says, genuinely intrigued. "I would have thought the city life would be hard to leave behind."

I think about it honestly for a moment, not having really stopped to assess my feelings properly until now. "It was, at first," I admit. "But there's something about this place. The slower pace, the sense of community, the natural beauty... it's refreshing. And I think I needed a change."

Beth's eyes reflect a shared understanding. "I get that. Sometimes a change of scenery is exactly what we need to gain a new perspective on things."

"Exactly," I agree. "And honestly, the people here have been so welcoming. It's made it easier."

"Yeah, I've noticed that too." She wrings out the last of the water from her hair. "Everyone seems genuinely friendly and interested in getting to know each other. It's a nice change from the anonymity of the city."

"Are you planning to stay here long term, or is this just a vacation for you?" I ask, curious about her plans.

Beth hesitates for a moment, a shadow crossing her face before she quickly masks it with a smile. "Just here for a few days, actually. I needed to escape some stuff," she says, her voice trailing off as a haunted look fills her eyes. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

I nod, understanding more than she realizes. "What are you doing for dinner tonight? We could eat together if you want to talk about it," I suggest, hoping to offer her some company. Besides, it will be nice to have some conversation where I'm not digging for information.

She lights up with excitement for a moment before she slumps in disappointment. "Oh, I signed up for one of the painting classes tonight. They provide finger food, so I'm kind of tied up."

"How about coffee tomorrow morning then?" I suggest, as I don't want to stress her further with making her choose. "Meet me at the bakery at 9:30? That way it's not too early."

Beth's smile returns, genuine and grateful. "That sounds perfect. I'd love that. See you then, Taylor."

"See you, Beth," I reply, waving as she heads off towards the water again.

I spend a few more hours walking along the beach and then people-watching while eating a late lunch at the cafe. I take my time walking back to the house before making myself a coffee with one of the new bags, and then heading to the office to go over all the notes again and add missing details to the wall. Still, nothing is standing out.

Realizing that the cookies distracted my social media stalking the other day, I sit down at the desk with my laptop. Bringing up the popular platforms, I get to work. Now that I have last names I start by searching for each of their profiles.

As suspected I don't find all of them. The ones I do find are filled with posts about their businesses, presenting a professional front for anyone who might look. Even old lady Gladys has a profile to promote her little grocery store. There are only small and infrequent posts across most of them that are personal. The woman posted the occasional selfie at the beach, while the men posted selfies at Makai's gym.

It's late afternoon when my phone chimes with a message, interrupting my thoughts. Glancing at the screen, I see it's from an unknown sender, sendings a chill down my spine.

PSYCHO MASKED STALKERS

I told you not to cover our marks, little shadow. Did you really think a dress was a better idea?

I stare at the message, my heart pounding in my chest. My fingers hover over the screen before I finally respond.

You do not control me or what I wear.

PSYCHO MASKED STALKERS

Is that right?

YES

PSYCHO MASKED STALKERS

We don't want to control you, little shadow.

That doesn't mean we can't do something about the other men who see what's ours and think they have a chance of taking it from us.

My jaw tightens, irritation and apprehension mixing in equal measure.

You're being ridiculous.

PSYCHO MASKED STALKERS

Try us. We will always be watching.

Anger and defiance surge within me as I read their last message. I refuse to be intimidated. My fingers fly over the keyboard.

Fine, you want to watch me? Then watch this.

I hit send, a sense of rebellious determination coursing through me. I won't let them dictate my actions or my choices. They can watch all they want, but they won't control me.

Storming toward the bedroom, I strip out of the dress and my underwear, digging through my clothes for something that would make a statement. My fingers brush over the smooth fabric of my bikini, pulling it out of my bag, and then I find it—the sheer overdress with delicate embroidered flowers. It's completely see-through, every cut and mark on my skin will be visible, but at that moment I don't care.

They want their marks on display, then they will be on display.