7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

A llen arched a brow at me as he pulled the door to the back of the crematory open. "Another one? So soon?" He cocked his head to the side, obviously judging me.

In The Club we had rules. Not that they were enforced or anything, because they weren't. Murder was not a sport that could be regulated. But that didn't mean we were free of judgment should any of us choose to act recklessly. No one wanted the local authorities sniffing around The Club's secrets.

Not even I knew all of them—as most of the time we talked in code.

Last week, the dry cleaner in our twisted little group had told us all he'd eliminated a rogue werewolf. We all knew that meant an uncouth hairy man—but the code made it fun all the same.

"It wasn't me," I said simply, adjusting the body over my shoulder as I shouldered my way through the door.

He eyed me critically, clearly amused. "You look very proud of that fact. "

"Maybe I am." Felix was a fledgling killer, and not interested in another man, other than to murder him—so that was a win in my book.

Tonight was officially a good night, despite how rocky a start it'd had.

"Where's the boy toy?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at the ridiculous nickname. I didn't dignify it with a proper reply however, instead focusing on hefting Felix's kill where it needed to go. "He's in the car."

"You left him in the car?"

"You don't have to sound so judgy about it," I huffed, annoyed. "He was crying. He was hungry. I needed to dispose of a body, so I bought him a hamburger. What do you want from me?"

"He was crying…and you left him—"

"With a hamburger."

"With a hamburger ," Allen repeated slowly like the food aspect of this was odder than the crying. I wasn't sure why he was speaking to me like I was a toddler—as I was probably the size of twenty of them.

"It's not as though I could carry him and the corpse at the same time," I huffed.

Unless…I could?

I squinted thoughtfully, imagining the logistics of that . Perhaps Felix could wrap his legs around my waist from the front and I could—No, no . Then he'd have a face full of trash-bag-covered body. That was not ideal for anyone involved.

"What do you want from me, Allen?" I huffed, dumping the body on the table and brushing my hands off. "Because clearly you have something to say."

"I'm just saying…" Allen continued to speak to me like I was stupid. "That it's an odd way to comfort someone. To leave them…alone—in the woods—crying, with a hamburger ."

Why was Allen so concerned about Felix?

My eyes narrowed. Allen rolled his eyes. "I'm not after your man, Marshall—"

"He's not my—"

"I'm just trying to help you."

"I would've added cheese if I knew whether or not he's lactose intolerant."

"How thoughtful of you," Allen deadpanned.

Annoyed, I turned my attention away from the body to him. "He said it was fine." I wasn't about to tell Allen that I'd already given Felix a hug. A hug that lasted a full thirty seconds.

"Did he?"

"Yes."

"Well, if he said it was fine, then it's fine." Allen shrugged, staring at me—dead in the eyes—like he was trying to communicate something.

"You're telling me…" I squinted at him, trying to make sense of the look he was leveling at me. "That it's possible despite clearly telling me he was fine…he may…not be fine?"

"Ah." Allen nodded. "So you're not an idiot after all."

I threw my hands in the air. "Why in the world would he say he was fine if he wasn't?" This was not the first time Felix had told me he was "fine." Did I need to be worried? Had he been lying before too? No, no. I didn't think so.

"Because." Allen shrugged, then pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sometimes…people just do that."

"Well that's idiotic."

"Yeah," he laughed, "I guess it is."

"I suppose I should go back to him then?" I hummed, plucking at my clothing—Christ, I liked this shirt. Still, into the fire it would go. I pulled it off, following it with my pants and belt. "And leave you to deal with…" I grimaced, gesturing at the asshole I'd laid on the table. " Him on your own?"

"Sure," Allen folded his arms over his barrel chest, watching me with an annoying twinkle in his gaze, like he knew something I didn't. "So…you ask blondie out yet?"

"Why is everyone suddenly so interested in my love life?" I lamented as I shucked off my boxers and socks, then added them to my pile.

"Because you've never had one before," Allen told me, wandering around behind me like an annoying, bearded gnat. I headed toward the shower in the back. I hadn't used it the last time I'd been here—because it had felt rude to get naked while Felix was in the room— ah.

Oh.

Oh .

Perhaps I was more obvious than I'd realized.

Completely naked, with my hands on my hips, I stared unseeingly at the shower.

"I think…" I blinked, swiveling around. Allen shielded his eyes, purposefully looking away from my swinging dick. Odd . He had one of his own, why was he so frightened of mine? I shoved the thought aside, as I actually had less than zero interest in how Allen reacted to my cock. "I maybe… perhaps … like Felix."

"You think?"

"Maybe."

"Do you maybe, perhaps ," he was mocking me, I could tell, "think you should hurry the fuck up then?"

"Ah." I blinked, frowning. "Right."

I had never showered faster in all my life.

When I returned to the car, Felix had not eaten his hamburger. Maybe he'd wanted cheese after all? Frowning, I slid into the driver seat, twisting to look at him. His expression was oddly blank, his cold food sitting in his lap, resting in a pile of plucked apart wrapper pieces.

Pluck, pluck, pluck went his fingers, decimating the paper even further .

He wasn't crying anymore.

I kind of missed it.

"You don't like hamburgers?" I offered in place of a greeting, Allen's voice still in my head. "My sister, Alberta, told me once that there's nothing that can't be healed by a cheeseburger."

"She did?" Felix didn't look at me, his voice hollow as he continued to pick.

"Was she right?" I asked, my heart pounding.

There had been one thing a cheeseburger couldn't fix. Death was resistant to all carbs. Alberta would know.

Felix twisted to look at me then, a soft smile on his lips. I'd been so certain he was devastated, sitting here alone, but the look on his face now was nothing of the sort. His eyes were warm, a deep sadness resonating inside them, but mirth twinkled there too.

I had the oddest feeling I'd never really looked at Felix Finley before.

My belly flipped.

"She was." Felix hadn't touched his burger, therefore he was lying . It just…took me a second to figure out why.

Felix lied, not because he was dishonest—but because he wanted me to feel like I had been useful. He lied because somehow he seemed to know that I had done my best to comfort him, lack of cheese and all. He lied…because he cared about me.

At least—I hoped he did?

I sucked in a breath .

"I looked at the stars on the way back," I told him, my voice as soft as his was. I didn't know how to flirt. So I wasn't sure that's what this was—only that it felt fluttery and soft, and my heart was racing.

The beast inside me wagged his tail.

"Did they explode?" Felix's lips quirked up.

"Not yet," I replied.

We were ridiculous. This was ridiculous. I couldn't stop smiling.

" Pity, " he joked. At least, I thought he was joking. I'd never been very good at telling.

I couldn't contain my snort—probably more startled by the sound than Felix was. When was the last time I laughed like this? I couldn't for the life of me recall. My heart felt fluttery , the realization I'd come to when talking to Allen buzzing beneath my skin.

I like him.

It was a secret that had nothing to do with murder, and yet, was the most frightening thing I'd ever kept quiet.

I like him.

I'd had a lot of secrets throughout my life. And yet, I'd never been more tempted to spill them all than I was right then, sitting in the dark, with Felix's eyes on mine, only the trees outside our windows for company.

If I laid all my cards on the table, perhaps it would give me a chance. A real one. Not one that I'd fostered and molded—manipulated into place. Not a card trick, an illusion. Not a game to win or lose or cheat.

Not entertainment .

Perhaps…if I told the truth…Felix might see me as a good bet.

I love stars, they're steady, constant.

Until they explode.

"Do you think they will?" Felix asked, his voice quiet, reverent. His eyes were on my lips. I had never been more tempted, in all my life, to kiss another person. To touch him. To see if he tasted as good as he smelled. "Explode, I mean."

"Maybe." My pulse raced as I stared at him. Stared at the mole beneath his eye. Stared at his lovely, red irises—there was no way those were real. Stared at where the roots of his hair were growing back in, ebony black, stark against his pale, alabaster skin.

We were opposites in so many ways.

He was shaky where I was solid.

But like a well-oiled engine, perhaps we worked because of those differences, and not despite them.

"Why'd you do it?" I asked him, my heart thumping.

"Kill him?" Felix frowned, expression pensive, those lovely pink lips flattening into a tight line. I wasn't surprised he'd jumped to that conclusion, as we had just traveled all the way across our sleepy town to dispose of a body.

"No." My hands were sweaty. I didn't think they'd ever been sweaty before. Not even when I'd been about to execute my first kill. Not when I'd graduated high school and I'd searched the crowd for Dad—only to find out later he hadn't come because Mom had just died. Not when I crashed our truck into the cow field—and had to fess up before we lost the cattle through the gap in the fence. Not when we'd moved to the city and the world had been different, different, different. Not when I'd gone to the bar looking for Alberta that night—and found her, but quickly wished I hadn't.

"Why did you…" I tried again.

"Did I?" Felix tipped his head back, leaning against the headrest. His chin tilted to meet my gaze. He was half my size. Maybe less than that—and yet…he felt so very large tonight. As large as the stars he loved so much. Radiant, flickering—and as constant as he said they were.

"Why did you come to the party?" I licked my lips. My heart was thumping so loud I wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it—especially when his gaze snapped to my throat. "Why did you dress up to match me? You've never come to one of Barry's awful parties before. So why…then?"

It may not have seemed like a big deal, but it was to me.

I had a hard time fitting in, even when I got the memo about stupid block party themes. Struggling socially wasn't new. It was something I'd dealt with since I was a child. I was used to it, to the point that I'd spent many of my growing years researching meticulously how exactly to fit in—just because I was sick of sticking out like a sore thumb.

Every choice I made was carefully cultivated to make me appear more palatable. Every last detail. I knew the colors I needed to wear to be seen as trustworthy—pastels. What haircuts were in fashion. What clothing choices were respectable—flashy but not too flashy. Expensive, but not gaudy.

Years of research, of struggling, of masking who I was behind designer cologne and Italian loafers.

All in a desperate ploy to be likable.

To be disliked was to be observed.

That's what I'd told myself.

I told myself that I still acted on my childish urges to fit in, not because I cared, but so that I could go unnoticed. So that I could get away with murder.

But…that was a lie.

The truth was—I cared, not because of my bloody hobby, but because at age thirty-eight, I was so…damn tired of not fitting in. I hated people, yes. Hated them with a burning passion. They were fickle, rude, callous, and superficial.

But I was still human.

And humans, by nature, are pack animals. Humans crave social structure. Cooperation and collaboration. Social bonds. Communication. Friendship. Connections. To be…liked.

Which was why I'd bought the damn Hawaiian shirt in the first place. Despite hating Barry (the bastard) with a burning passion—and therefore more willing to hit him with my car than attend one of his ridiculous soirees.

I'd wanted to fit in.

And then he'd fucked me over.

Beach Town was small. It was very easy to become shunned without even knowing it. I mean—look at Felix. I didn't think I'd ever seen someone deliver him a casserole when he was sick, or offer to fix his flat tire.

Barry sent him invites to his parties once a year—but that was because Barry was an attention-whore who had a hard-on for sticking flyers on other people's doors.

Aside from that, Felix was very much alone.

I had always wondered if his exile was self-imposed, or if he'd done something before I moved in that turned him into the floppy-hatted social pariah he was. But if that was the case…why not just move? There were plenty of other creepy-goth-houses he could hoard his collectibles inside.

Not that I wanted him to move of course, because I did not.

I supposed…there were a lot of things about him that made me curious.

More things than didn't, if I was being honest.

When he'd shown up to that party last summer in his ridiculous orange shirt he'd changed me. I'd had my heart welded shut for as long as I could remember. Bolted, locked. Impenetrable. And yet…as Felix lingered beside the giant ten-tiered cake Barry had bought, and gave me a single, solitary, nod in solidarity—I could feel the bolts begin to slip loose.

My fascination with him had only grown after the conversation we'd shared all those weeks ago. When I'd shown him a glimpse of my monster, and he hadn't balked.

Would you cry if he had deserved it?

Would you feel bad?

No…I…don't suppose I would.

He'd awoken the beast inside me by offering it his belly, and I didn't know how to turn it off.

It was a miracle that I hadn't realized what was happening.

Not until tonight.

Not until Allen and his damn observations.

Not until I'd given Felix a comfort hamburger—and he'd told me it worked.

Felix was staring at me. I wasn't sure how much time had passed. Once again—I'd lost myself when I was beside him. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I continued to wait for the answer to my questions.

I could be patient.

Goddammit answer me, you tiny, beautiful bitch.

"Finley?" My heart continued to pound.

"I saw the new note on your door." Felix's voice was quiet when he spoke. He chose his words carefully. His head still leaned against the headrest. His face had remained tipped to look at me all this time. Apparently he could be patient too.

"I didn't know what you'd end up wearing to the party but on the off chance you hadn't seen Barry's costume adjustment, I…" Felix sucked in a breath, shaking his head to clear it. " I…know what it's like to be ridiculed. Before —" I imagined he meant his life before he'd moved here . "I…would often hear things. Empty observations about me—lies, speculation. People can be incredibly unkind, even the people that claim to love us."

His lips flattened, his eyes dark as he gazed out into the empty woods in front of us. Overhead the clouds opened up, pouring rain down upon us and blocking out our stars.

"I didn't want to leave you alone . It is the worst feeling in the world—" Felix added, his eyes a lifetime away. "To stand in a room of people and feel like an outsider." His lips tipped up into a sad little smile. "I've often wondered if I would've made some of the choices that I did—if I'd had someone who stood beside me. Perhaps I never needed the world to love me, but just one…single person. Maybe that would have been enough." There was sadness in his eyes. I'd noticed it before, but it was even more apparent now. "I am only one man, but I thought if I could save you that torment, I would."

Without thinking, I reached out, grasping his chin in my hand and forcing him to look at me. It was the second time I'd done that today, but I couldn't seem to help myself. "You talk as though your story ended in tragedy."

"I thought it had," Felix said, then his lips tipped up into a soft smile.

His eyes said, until you.

And my heart answered with a steady thump, thump.

His eyes bore into mine, making me feel shaky and young, and desperate.

"So, you left your tower to save me." It was a joke, but it didn't feel like one.

"I did." Felix laughed, and it was the prettiest thing I'd ever heard.

I wanted him to do it again.

So I did something I hardly ever did.

I joked. "My night in floral armor."

Felix snorted, eyes crinkling in amusement, his skin so very soft beneath my fingertips. Once again I marveled at how easy it would be to crush him—and how that very fact made me want to protect him instead.

"We were pariahs, all the same," I added, licking my lips. When he licked his own, mirroring me unintentionally—probably—I nearly groaned.

"But at least we were pariahs together," Felix murmured, his voice buzzing my fingertips.

I knew I should let him go, but I didn't.

"That is better, isn't it?"

"It is," Felix agreed. I jerked, surprised when I felt his chilly fingers curling in the hem of my shirt. A beat passed. A beautiful moment where suddenly the stars were close, and the forest was friendly. The cicadas continued to chirp. The rain that pattered on the windows was muffled through the glass.

Heat simmered between us.

"Allen says that cheeseburgers are not a proper way to comfort someone," I blurted because I didn't know what else to say.

I never want this moment to end.

"Does he?" Felix murmured back, his lips nearly brushing my palm. God, he looked delicious pressed against the leather seats of my Mercedes, like he belonged in luxury. Like a king. Regal.

"He says that you could've been lying when you said you were fine earlier." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "So…" I felt like a jerky, awkward teen again. "Were you?"

"Was I lying?"

"Yes."

I hadn't realized how much his answer meant to me till I watched his brow furrow—and his lips twist. "No, Marshall." Relieved, I couldn't stop my grin. "That would be idiotic." Felix laughed.

I wanted to taste that laugh.

Christ.

He was heavenly.

"That's what I said!" I chuckled, releasing him, my palm tingling where his lips had brushed it. I settled back into my seat, pulling us back out onto the road from where we'd been hidden in the trees. My thoughts were, however, not on the road. Not on the stars above. Not on the body I'd left behind with Allen.

No .

All I seemed able to think about was Felix's lips, and what they might feel like—not against my palm—but pressed to my own.

I carried that thought with me all the way home.