Page 40 of Firefly Effect

“Well,” I tease with a little purse of my lips, “if one meets the strict criteria, I suppose a verbal request would suffice.”

He nods, his eyes searching my face. I wonder what he’s expecting to find. “I’m afraid to ask if I meet the criteria or not.”

Laughing lightly, I raise my chin. “You most definitely meet the criteria.” Then my mood dims, just thinking about this shit show of a day. “I just don’t think I’m up to reviewing applications tonight.”

He squeezes my hand. “That’s okay, Evie. I need to get home to Lucy, anyway.” He smiles softly. “I really was just going to take you home.”

I give him a mock glare, letting him know I’m not sure I believe him.

“You have my number,” he says. “You know, in case you need to get ahold of me. To talk… or if you need anything at all.”

He releases me, triggering an ache of disappointment. He’s right to go, but it doesn’t mean I want him to.

“Thank you, Lincoln.”

He takes a step back, our eyes still locked together. There’s a charge in the air, a connection I’ve never felt to another human, and I know Lincoln feels it too. His eyes light up, and he moves back to me, his arms wrapping around me in one confident swoop before he pulls me close. His mouth lands softly on my cheek then glides to my ear, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His beard is rough yet intoxicating all the same.

“So you know,” he rasps, “refraining from kissing you is the equivalent of holding my breath for too long. For now, I’ll starve myself of air, but that won’t be the case the next time we’re together.” He takes my earlobe gently between his teeth. “Consider it a warning.”

He steps back, leaving a chasm of space between us. So close, yet so far. The buzz of electricity radiates through the air, the current so strong that I can’t deny it. Finally, he makes his way back into the night, and the door shuts between us, clicking once I secure the lock.

Suddenly, I’m starved of air too—trapped like a tiny firefly in a jar, desperate to get to the man who just signaled his interest with a blink of his light. All I need to do is return his call with a flash of my own.

If only it were that easy.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

LINCOLN

Since the moment I left Evie, I’ve resisted the urge to check in with her as often as I’d like, in person and over text. Toting the fine line between worrying about her after the latest murder and wanting to see her for purely selfish reasons is a more difficult feat than one would imagine. Save for the breakfast deliveries to her door every morning from a local Main Street business, the casual texts throughout the day, and the happy hour drink I allow myself after work at Firefly before getting home to Lucy and Francine, I try to give her space to process the latest events.

The news is already proclaiming the kill to be the work of the Firefly Man. Which is mind-blowing, considering whoever is responsible has left no clues behind, as far as the public knows.

My eyes skim the morning paper’s front-page story.

Body of Firefly Man’s suspected twelfth victim found miles away from original kill site

Published June 21st, 2024

Robert McClain, 31, male, was found late in the evening of May 20th at Backcountry Camp 60. McClain was traveling alone on a backpacking trip through the Appalachians and was reported missing two weeks earlier by his wife after he stopped responding to her calls and messages.

McClain is the suspected twelfth victim in a string of linked serial murders across the Great Smoky Mountains. Due to the nature of his injuries as well as the collected evidence, McClain’s murder is suspected to be linked to the infamous Firefly Man. Backcountry Camp 60 is just over three miles from Deep Creek Campground, the site of the first Firefly Man murder.

I close the paper and set it aside, hating that this is the world my daughter is forced to live in.

“Hey, Lucy,” I say, pouring her out more cereal. “What do you think about inviting your daycare friends here for your birthday? We can get a bounce house with a slide and make the backyard a fun waterpark.”

Lucy’s eyes grow wide. “Yesss!” She pounds the handle of her spoon into the table. “Can I invite all my friends?”

Francine gives me a look of utter concern, but I shrug. What could possibly go wrong with a bunch of kids playing at our house? “Of course you can, sweetie. I’ll fill out the invitations now, and you can hand them out today.”

I walk over to the kitchen counter where the pile of invitations sits.

Francine is right there by my side. “Maybe limit the invites, Linc. Ten, tops. There are twenty kids in her daycare class.”

“It will be fine,” I assure her. “There’s no way every kid will make it to the party with such short notice. You’ll see.”

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