Chapter 14

Olivia Bennett

T he aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled my apartment, mingling with the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. I curled up on the worn leather sofa, cradling a steaming mug between my palms. Johnathan lounged in the armchair across from me with his laptop.

“Any progress on the case?” I asked, taking a careful sip.

Johnathan ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Well, I’ve hit a bit of a dead end, to be honest.” I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He leaned forward, moving his computer putting his elbows on his knees. “I looked into all of the employees at Dead Man’s, and none of them fit our profile, even down to the co-owner Derek. If anything he’s an extremely sexy and emotionally available family man.” Johnathan said with a smirk.

I nearly choked on my coffee, caught off guard by his description. “Wow, tell me how you really feel, Johnathan,” I teased. “And you were shocked I had a thing with Liam… What's this? Are you getting butterflies for the co-owner?”

Johnathan’s eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He fumbled trying to get his own mug sitting on the side table, nearly spilling coffee on his shirt.

“What? No, that’s—pshh, you keep your secrets I’ll keep mine,” he sputtered, trying to regain his composure. He cleared his throat. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. But seriously, we might need to expand our search.”

I nodded. “So, what’s our next move?” I asked, finishing the coffee in my mug.

“Hopefully we start getting leads from the bug in his apartment, until then I think it’s going to be a little bit of a waiting game.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I got up to refill my coffee mug. The kitchen tiles were cool under my bare feet. As I poured the steaming liquid, I wondered about Johnathan’s reaction. What secret was he keeping from me?

“Oli, get over here. We’ve got something.” Jonathan said as he sat hunched over a laptop, headphones clamped to his ears. His eyes met mine, a mixture of excitement and concern swirling in their depths.

“The Croixes are at Liam’s,” he whispered, handing me a spare set of headphones.

I slipped them on, the voices crackling to life on the other end. They talked about balancing their books, upping the money, and they were being intimidating dicks about it all which didn’t make any sense to me considering Liam sounded so eerily calm with criminals sitting at his house. He offered them leftovers and drinks for fucks sake.

Eventually things settled more and the conversations shifted and were more casual. They talked about a wedding before bidding each other farewell. Finally, we heard the door slam. Silence fell, broken only by Liam’s heavy sigh.

But then, the sound of another door opening came through.

“Liam?” Derek’s familiar voice filled our ears. “Was that about Damien being dead? Did they find his body?”

I froze. Damien? Dead? What the hell had we just stumbled into?

Liam’s response came swiftly, his usually melodic voice tinged with a dark edge I’d never heard before. “If it was about him, they would’ve killed me. And of course they didn’t find the body. I made sure of it.”

Derek’s voice crackled through the headphones again. “Then why were they here? What did they want?”

I leaned in closer, straining to catch every word. Liam O’Connor, the man I’d been watching, the man I’d started to feel drawn to despite my better judgment, was confessing to murder. And what was worse was It didn’t frighten me, it excited me.

Liam’s voice came through the speaker, low and nonchalant. “Same shit, different day, they want more money involved.”

“Well, that’s not surprising,” Derek changed the subject. “How did that go by the way? With Damien… It looks like he took a beating.”

Liam’s knuckles … I remembered them being bandaged. Had he beat Damien to death?

“Yeah, he was unrecognizable once I was finished with him. They’ll never find him. I made sure of it.”

There it was. We pretty much had Liam’s confession on tape. But the harsh reality was we couldn’t legally bind it to him because we were recording without both of their knowledge.

I clenched my fists, frustration burning in my chest. All this evidence, and it was useless in court. I’d have to find more physical evidence to make any of this stick to him.

But I would do it, regardless of my feelings. There was too much on the line for me.

The stark white glow of the bathroom light framed my reflection in the mirror. My hand was steady as I drew the final stroke of my smoky cat eye makeup, a sharp contrast against my pale skin. I placed black lipstick on next, gliding it over my lips like velvet. Next, I placed a few smudges of brown across my cheeks for some fake freckles. Then, with a few precise strokes, I painted on delicate whiskers. The mirror showed a sexy little kitten staring back at me. It was the quickest and easiest costume to put together for Fright Night tonight.

“Meeeeow,” Johnathan said from the doorway, his voice slicing through my focus. I glanced up to see him leaning against the frame, a grin splitting his face.

“Thanks.” I chuckled as I replied, capping the eyeliner.

“Is it my turn now?”

“Oh, come on, it didn’t take me that long to get ready.”

“It took long enough. Did you use all the hot water?”

“Nooo,” I said, drawing it out, making myself sound anything but innocent.

He side-eyed me as he shooed me out of the bathroom, and I smiled, going to my room to do my hair in front of my dresser mirror with my straightener waiting for me there. After I was done, I moved to the couch with my shoes just as Johnathan finished up in the bathroom. He poked his head out and ran a hand through his dark hair, now damp from a shower. “I forgot to tell you I met someone,” he confessed, that mischief in his warm hazel eyes dancing. “At the coffee shop. He’s… hot. We’re going out later this week.”

“Really?” I couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto my lips. “That’s great, Johnathan.” I truly was happy for him.

He sidled up beside me, still in his towel, nudging me with an elbow. “So, when are you going to have some fun with being undercover?” he asked, fluttering his lashes at me, and I knew exactly who he was talking about.

I buckled the straps of my heels. “Probably not at all,” I began, a frown tugging on my lips. “You won’t believe it, but Liam thought you were my boyfriend.”

He paused, one eyebrow arching in disbelief. “You’re kidding. Did you tell him the truth?”

“Of course,” I said, standing and flexing my feet to adjust to the shoes’ incline. I took a few steps, testing the give of the soles, the way my calf muscles stretched and held. I hadn’t worn heels in forever. “I told him you were my brother.”

The words felt strange as they left my mouth, not because they were completely false, but because there was a depth to our relationship that made them feel both right and wrong at the same time. Jonathan really was like a brother to me. We'd been through hell together, always having each other's backs. We shared secrets, fears, and moments of vulnerability that no one else knew about. He was the first one I called when things went sideways, in the field or in my personal life, and I was the one he trusted to keep him grounded.

I glanced over at him, his towel still hanging precariously low on his hips, and couldn’t help but smile. We bickered like siblings, teased like old friends, and somewhere along the line, he had become my family, the one constant in a world where everything else was in flux. I often wondered what would happen to us once he found out the truth.

I watched his face for a reaction as he stood in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame.

His brows knitted together for a moment before he shrugged it off, a laugh escaping him. “And?” he prodded, his eyes alight with curiosity, the corners crinkling with amusement.

A small grin tugged at my lips. “He walked away all huffy puffy, talking about how it doesn’t change anything.” My hands found my hips as I recalled Liam’s stiff posture.

Johnathan let out a snort, shaking his head. “Oh… it changes everything.” He stood and turned, stepping back into the bathroom, his laughter trailing behind him. “I promise you it is far from over between you two.”

I tilted my head, listening to the splash of water and the rustle of fabric. “What are you doing?” I called out, curiosity sharpening my tone.

There was a pause, then Johnathan’s voice floated through the crack in the door. “I’m getting ready,” he said, a sense of urgency threading his words. “I want to go through Dead Man’s.” The shift in his tone piqued my interest. Haunted houses were more my thrill than his.

“Let me guess… by meeting later this week, you meant tonight. Because a hot guy is the only reason you would be caught dead in a haunted house,” I stated, lifting a brow, and he poked his head out of the bathroom slowly with a knowing look on his face.

“Guilty as charged. Arrest me, officer,” he said, putting out his hands for cuffs, and we both laughed.

I arrived at the mansion an hour early. The first Fright Night of the season had to be perfect. As I was doing a walkthrough, a floorboard creaked behind me. I spun around and collided with a solid, bare chest. My eyes traveled up from chiseled abs—abs I’d know anywhere—to meet a blood-spattered Ghostface mask.

“Jesus, Liam!” I gasped, stumbling backward. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He chuckled, low and melodic, lifting the mask. Those piercing green eyes crinkled with amusement, gleaming under the dim lights. “Isn’t that the point, Jade?”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing, but the sight of him shirtless, with fake blood dripping down his sharp jawline had me completely off-balance. My pulse thudded in my ears, heat licking up my neck. The deep red of the blood made the angles of his face look even more defined, more dangerous, and damn if it didn’t stir something inside me. The awareness of his body, so close, made my skin hum with an undeniable need.

“I didn’t realize you were a scare actor,” I managed, my voice barely steady.

“What? You thought I was all business and no fun?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that low timbre that sent shivers to every place it shouldn’t. “Like what you see?”

The air thickened. My breath hitched, and every rational thought I had disintegrated in the heat of the moment. Desire twisted in my gut, a yearning I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried. His nearness, the scent of him—musky, with a hint of sandalwood and mint—wrapped around me, pulling me in.

I felt my cheeks burn as I struggled to form a coherent thought, let alone a witty response. My body had already betrayed me, leaning slightly toward him, magnetized by the warmth radiating off his skin. My fingers twitched at my sides, desperate to reach out, to trace the lines of his chest, to feel those abs under my touch.

I bit my lip, as my gaze flicked back to his eyes, now darker, more intense, like he knew exactly what was going through my head. Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to want this—want him—but it was like every inch of me was screaming otherwise.

Liam’s gaze intensified. “Cat got your tongue?” He looked down at me, motioning toward my own costume for tonight. As if on cue, a faint meow echoed from down the hall.

We both froze. “Did you hear that?” I whispered.

Liam nodded, all playfulness vanishing. “Fucking Bones, damn cat gets into everything. I think it came from this way.”

We followed the sound, squeezing through a narrow corridor. Cobwebs clung to my hair. The meowing grew louder, leading us to a small supply closet that looked like it hadn’t been used in years, tucked away and forgotten in the corner, used more for decoration than a work space.

“Bones, here, boy,” I called softly, cracking open the door and walking in.

A blur of black fur shot past my legs, tripping me. I stumbled backward, knocking into a rickety shelf. It teetered then crashed to the floor, blocking the exit. The door slammed shut behind us. Darkness engulfed us. Panic suddenly clawed at my throat. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating me. I hated tight spaces, hated feeling trapped.

“Well”—Liam’s voice cut through the gloom—“isn’t this just cozy.” I couldn’t breathe. My chest began constricting painfully. “Jade?” Liam’s teasing tone shifted. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head, gasping for air. “Can’t… breathe…”

“Hey, hey.” His hand found mine in the darkness. “Focus on my voice. You’re safe.” The closet felt impossibly small. My heart raced. Sweat beaded on my forehead. “I’m taking off this mask,” Liam said softly. I heard rustling, then I felt his warm breath on my cheek. “There. Better?” I nodded weakly, still struggling to breathe. “Look at me, Jade.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “Tell me five things you can see.”

I squinted in the dim light. “Your… your eyes. Green. Shelves. Mop. Bucket.”

“Good. Four things you can touch.”

My fingers trembled as I reached out. “Your hand. Cold floor. Rough wall. My… my shirt.” As Liam guided me through the exercise, my breathing slowed. The panic ebbed. “Thank you,” I whispered, a little embarrassed.

“We all have our demons.” Liam hesitated then added, “I used to have panic attacks too. After… after I lost my family.”

The vulnerability in his voice surprised me. “What happened?”

His grip on my hand tightened. “It’s not a happy story. But I’ll tell you, if you’d like. We have the time.” I nodded, grateful for the distraction.

“My mother and sister were murdered, and they never caught the men responsible.” As Liam spoke of the tragedy and loss, I saw him differently. Not just as my moody boss, but a man shaped by pain. When he finished, I found myself sharing my own buried hurts.

Time blurred as we talked, connecting in ways I never expected.

“Sooo, Bones? What’s his story? Other than locking people in closets.” I asked him playfully, trying to lighten the mood after all the heavy topics. A part of me wanted to keep pushing, to dig deeper into the tension, but another part—probably the smarter one—knew it was better to take a step back, to breathe.

Liam chuckled, a soft rumble that made my pulse skip a beat. “He was a stray that Derek and I started feeding, and eventually he kinda just became the haunted house cat. I think with all the movement happening with Fright Night, he’s a little spooked.” His voice had a way of pulling me in, of making everything seem less complicated, even when it wasn’t. I glanced up at him, watching the way his eyes softened as he talked about Bones. There was something so genuine about him in moments like these, something that made my heart squeeze in my chest.

“I usually put him in my apartment when there’s an event happening, but I couldn’t find him this morning,” he added with a shrug, though the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

I smiled, feeling the tension slowly unravel as we drifted into safer territory. It was easier this way—safer—to talk about cats and Fright Night rather than confront the very real attraction simmering just beneath the surface. But no matter how much I tried to focus on his words, my mind kept circling back to the way he made me feel—off-balance, breathless, and undeniably drawn to him.

Before I could respond, a muffled voice cut through the darkness. “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

“Derek?” I shouted, my voice cracking. “We’re in here!”

Liam’s hand found mine in the darkness, squeezing gently. “Over here!” he called out, his usual smooth tone tinged with relief. Footsteps approached rapidly. The door rattled, then swung open. Light flooded in, blinding me momentarily.

“Jesus Christ,” Derek muttered, his eyes wide as he stepped into the room. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two!” His voice was edged with frustration, but his relief was clear. Then I noticed Jonathan trailing behind him, and it took everything in me not to burst into laughter. Derek was the hot guy Jonathan had been talking about? Of course, he was. That was the secret. The pieces clicked together, and I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. This was the guy that had Jonathan all flustered and giddy over the past few days. How did I not see this coming?

Part of me was thrilled for Jonathan. He deserved something good, someone who made him light up the way Derek clearly did. But in the back of my mind, the reality of our situation crashed down like a wave. We were both working an undercover case—and now I knew we were both attracted to suspects of murder. It was ironic, really. Here I was trying to keep things professional, only to realize Jonathan was in the exact same boat as I was. I wanted to be happy for him, I really did, but this was a disaster waiting to happen.

We were so screwed. Not just a little bit— fabulously fucked. Two undercover agents tangled up in feelings we had no business having, falling for men we should’ve been interrogating, not fantasizing about.

I stumbled out of the closet, legs wobbly from being in there so long. Liam steadied me with a hand on my lower back. The touch sent a shiver through me.

“What happened to Fright Night?” I asked, blinking in the harsh hallway light. I’d talk to Johnathan about it later.

Derek ran a hand through his dark hair. “Canceled. We couldn’t find you guys, and everyone was freaking out. Thought something had gone seriously wrong.”

I felt a pang of guilt. All that preparation, wasted. “I’m so sorry. I—”

“It’s not your fault,” Liam interjected, his voice carrying that gentle authority I’d grown to admire. “These things happen. I blame Bones.” He chuckled softly.

Our eyes met. All the intimacy we’d shared in that dark, cramped space came rushing back. I quickly looked away, clearing my throat. “We should, uh, probably go explain to everyone.”

As we walked down the hallway, I could feel Liam’s gaze on me. My cheeks burned. I tried to focus on practical matters—rescheduling, refunds, apologies to be made. But my traitorous mind kept drifting back to the closet. To Liam’s soothing voice, his vulnerability, the way he’d calmed my fears. It was just the situation, I told myself. Extreme circumstances. It didn’t mean anything.

But as Liam’s hand brushed mine, sending sparks up my arm, I knew I was lying to myself.