Page 50 of The Perfect Deception

“No!” He cuts me off, storming toward the door. “I need to fix this myself. Stay out of it.”

“Damien!” I shout after him, but it’s too late. He’s gone. The door slams behind him, leaving me alone with suffocating panic rising in my chest.

I stand there frozen. The artwork in the room feels like it’s staring at me, watching my heart break. The knots in my stomach tighten until I can barely breathe. I want to scream, to run after him, but my legs are heavy, rooted to the spot.

The ringing phone snaps me out of my haze. I grab it, barely glancing at the screen. “Jay, what’s going on?”

There’s a long pause.

“Hello? Jay?”

“Frankie, I’m at your house.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

“I heard your address on the radio and rushed over. There was a fire. The house behind yours caught fire and it spread. Your place is gone. Shit, it’s gone, kid.”

Gone. My house is gone.

“Gone?” My voice is thin, like someone else is speaking.

“Yea. I’m sorry.” Jay’s voice is filled with regret, but it doesn’t make any of this feel real.

No house. No home. No Damien. Just the clothes on my back. He won. The fucking killer won.

“Frankie, talk to me,” Jay says, but I can’t.

The phone slips from my hand, crashing to the floor as everything blurs and spins. My chest tightens, and panic overwhelms me, sharp and suffocating.

The killer’s taken it all—my life, my security, my future.

I bet he’s coming for me next.

---