Chapter 14

NATHAN

Imight have had very little experience in dealing with people, and even less when it came to relationships, but even I knew it was never a good thing when your boyfriend said you needed to talk and then brushed you off.

Okay. I knew he didn't brush me off. He was at work. No matter how much I wished to the contrary, his whole life didn't revolve around me.

Though, maybe I could get him to quit. I had enough money that he didn't need to work. Hell, I didn't need to work. It wasn't like I did much of the work; it was more like overseeing—making sure the things I wanted to get done actually got done. And that they were done correctly.

Despite the fact it had only been a couple of days since I'd killed, my skin felt tight and itchy. The kill hadn't been satisfying at all, even though I'd killed someone who had touched my little bird and made him uncomfortable. I had thought he would have been the most satisfying.

Instead, I felt empty.

I'd killed for Aiden, but I could never tell him about it. He could never know. But I wasn't stupid enough to believe he'd never find out, even if he wasn't the one working the guy's case. He was smart. Finding killers was his job, so did I really think the two of us could have a forever, especially one where he never knew the truth?

The thought was nothing but a fantasy.

But I couldn't kill him. I should. But I couldn't. I'd already proven that time and time again. I set my little bird free every time I'd set my sights on him.

Frustrated from the lack of thrill from the kill, my thoughts drifted to Aiden, and the knowledge that one day I might have to kill him, even if it killed me. I grabbed my phone and tried to doom-scroll my worries away. But nothing could distract me.

After a half-hour of cat videos that did nothing to soothe my nerves, I finally decided to have food delivered. There was no telling what time Aiden would get home and finally text me but I knew it would probably be late enough that he wouldn't want to go out for dinner. And if he was hungry, then I'd still grab something and bring it to his house with me.

As I sat on the couch and waited for the delivery, I wondered again what Aiden wanted to talk about. Worry churned in my gut as I wondered if he was going to break up with me. I had thought things were going well, but then again, I wouldn't be the best judge of that.

Maybe it would be for the best if he broke up with me. I knew I was dangerous to be around, especially with the way I'd been feeling the last couple weeks. My control had been slipping and I didn't know how to get it back. The only difference in my life and routine had been Aiden. Having him near messed with me, but not having him near messed with me even more.

A few minutes later, the doorbell interrupted my spiral. I walked to the door and patted my pocket to grab my wallet, but it wasn't there.

"Hey," I greeted the man at the door who held the bag with my food. "Sorry, my wallet is in the kitchen. Would you mind following me?"

I walked back the way I'd come, and it didn't escape my notice that the kid, who looked like he was probably in college, gawked at the place as he trailed after me. I smirked, knowing I had a great house where the interior had been fully customized with exposed beams, hardwood, and polished concrete flooring with large throw rugs around. My furniture was plush and extravagant, as I was a creature built for comfort.

"This is a really nice house," he gushed as we made our way into the industrial kitchen with the double stoves, large farm sink, and an island that went on for days. "If I had a kitchen like this, I wouldn't be ordering takeout," he joked as he put the bag on the island and turned to get a view of the rest of the house while I grabbed my wallet.

"Thanks. And yeah, I know what you mean, but some days, you just prefer to have someone else do the cooking." I chuckled as I reached for my wallet. But then, at the last moment, I changed course and grabbed a short, thin, and very sharp knife from the block and quietly made my way to where he had moved to the doorway.

One arm wrapped around him, tilting his head back just as I brought the knife up to his neck. My blade had just started to slide across his delicate throat when his hands grabbed at me in a vain attempt to pull me off. At that moment, I also heard the front door slam and the sound of a single set of footsteps pounding on the floor, getting closer.

But I couldn't stop. The knife was already across his throat, his blood spurting from the open wound and coating my hands. There would be such a mess to clean up. Not to mention, there would be a trail from me ordering the food and the driver coming to my house.

Shit. I hadn't thought this through.

"Jesus! What the fuck, Nate?" Aiden's panicked voice cut through my thoughts, and my eyes darted up at him as he pulled his gun and aimed it at me. "Drop the fucking knife, Nate." His voice wavered almost as badly as his hands.

Fuck.