Page 57 of The Butterfly Killer

He walked over to where his things were on the table and started to pick them up. “I was just leaving though.”

He started for the print outs of the newspaper clippings he’d gathered. Before he could grab them, Blevins slid his hand over the clippings and pulled them toward him. The papers slid easily over the surface of the wooden table.

Blevins lifted them, creasing some of the corners as he flipped through. “So you did find something interesting.”

His voice dipped to a lower octave. His brows furrowed in what Burns could only describe as displeasure and irritation.

Burns narrowed his eyes. “I would have shared them in class.”

Blevins gave him a look. It seemed the man didn’t like Burns’s snarky remark. He threw the printouts onto the table with disregard. A few of the sheets fell to the ground.

Blevins pushed away from the table and stalked toward the door.

Burns ground his teeth as he stared at the papers on the ground. He let out a rough sigh as he crouched and began to pick them up. All the while Blevins turned around at the door and stared back at him.

“Let your partner know you two are chasing the wrong trail. I wouldn’t waste anymore of your time.”

Burns turned to look at Blevins. He only got a glimpse of the man’s face before he left, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Burns pulled out his phone. He dialed Mercer’s number.

“Why are you calling me? I was having the most peaceful sleep.”

Burns rolled his eyes. “You wake me up all the time, prick.”

Mercer grumbled as it sounded like he was moving out of bed.“Just tell me so I can go back to sleep.”

“Blevins just paid me a visit. He seemed to not like that we’re investigating the cartel.”

“Oh?”

Burns stood up with the newspaper scans. He sat them on the table and spread them out. “Yeah. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Mercer hummed.“It seems so. What have you found?”

“Other than the cartel has infested this city like cockroaches? Not much. I have a few interesting details such as…”

His voice trailed off as a headline that didn’t make the main page of a newspaper one year ago caught his eye. He grabbed it and placed it next to another—one that announced Marcus’s mother’s death.

“Burns? What is it?”

Burns scanned the two articles. There was a dawning realization that rejuvenated him. “What are the chances that the Butterfly Killer could be in two places at the same time?”

“…unless he’s superhuman, there aren’t any.”

Burns frowned. “How fast can you get down to the library?”

“Tell me the address. I’m on my way.”

Roman kicked off his boots as he came inside. He took off his coat and hung it up on the back of the door. He readjusted the sheet tucked in the crack of the door and floor to keep as much cold air out as possible.

Marcus watched it all from under the bed. He’d fallen asleep under there after making an ass out of himself. His memory burned from what happened yesterday. He couldn’t get rid of therepeating imagery. The thing that haunted him the most was the ghosting of Roman’s body against his. It was like his skin was imprinted with the touch. He couldn’t shake the warm feeling he felt each time he thought about how Roman had felt against him.

He woke with his cock hard. He pretended it was morning wood, but he knew it was all because of Roman.

The one thing he swore he wouldn’t let happen was happening. A case of Stockholm syndrome seemed so far fetched to Marcus that he ignored all the signs up until yesterday.

It was obvious now that Roman was trying to get Marcus to let his guard down and make him feel like Roman was actually on his side. Being kind, caring for him, but ultimately punishing him whenever he acted out were all the tactics to make Marcus break.

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