Page 21 of Little Horrors & Deceptions

“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, itexcitedme.

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.

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