Page 33 of Little Horrors & Deceptions

“Bingo,” I whispered. The safe needed a code or you could use a key. I wondered if I could pick it. My hands trembled as I worked, sweat beading on my forehead. One attempt. Two. Three.

“Fuck, c’mon, you stupid piece of…”

Click.

Relief flooded through me as the safe swung open. Inside lay a thick folder and a leather-bound book. I snatched them, hurrying back to the desk. I opened it, revealing page after page of Liam's handwriting. My breath caught as I realized what I was holding.

His journal. Years of entries stretched before me. I felt sick to my stomach. I shouldn’t read this, but I needed answers. This was what I had come for.

My eyes locked onto an entry, the raw pain in the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.

“The therapist seems to think that writing my thoughts will help me cope with my grief or whatever, so here I go. Mom and Mya died six weeks ago today, and I can't help but wonder whyI'm here. Why I survived and they didn't. I have so much rage, and as soon as I'm healed, I'm going to do whatever it takes to get justice.”

I traced the words, feeling the indentations where his pen had pressed too hard. The anguish bled through the page. He’d just been a kid. He hadn’t deserved this.

The blade of guilt just kept twisting further and further into my soul. This wasn't just a case anymore. This was Liam's life, his pain, laid bare before me. I glanced at the door, half-expecting him to burst in. I should stop reading, but I couldn't tear myself away. I flipped through more pages, my trained eyes scanning rapidly. Each entry revealed more of Liam's pain, his descent into darkness. My stomach churned.

Another entry caught my attention.

“The justice system is broken,”I read aloud, my voice barely a whisper.“Somehow the Croixes were able to get away with this.”

I closed my eyes, processing the weight of his words. The pain, the anger—it was all there, etched into the paper like scars. Like the same ones they’d put on his back. I understood, even though I shouldn’t condone his actions.

“Aunt Nina adopted me and we changed my name. I know she means well and wants to keep me safe from everything that happened, but they will pay for this.”

I flipped to the back of the journal. A list of names stared back at me, all from the Croix family. Four were crossed out.

I knew two were from Liam’s case file, when they were found their bodies were already too decayed to get much of anything. Another was Marco, I knew he was dead, I connected his death to the executioner case but the other… The image of the man who’d knocked me over flashed in my mind.Damien.So Liam really did kill him. He was crossing off names as he killed.

I set the journal down, my fingers trembling as I reached for the thick folder. Papers spilled across the desk as I spread them out. Contracts. Dozens of them, each for an identical, obscene sum, every month.

He was balancing their checkbooks, but why? To get close? The Croixes weren’t stupid. No, picking them off one by one was too risky. They'd catch on before he was finished. I flipped through the contracts, and all of them were the same except for the most recent one, it was for a wedding. Not only was it for a different sum, but it was for a different event, and in blood red ink, Liam had scrawled “ENDGAME” across the top.

It was a wedding contract for Marianna Croix, daughter of the family's patriarch. If this was going to be a real event, it would bring them all together. In one place—Dead Man’s Mansion.

The realization hit me. He was going to kill them at the wedding. It was what I would do in his position. A sudden creak pierced the silence, and it was one I’d recognize anywhere—that stupid step when someone was coming up the stairs.

My heart leapt into my throat. I scrambled to my feet. The door handle turned with agonizing slowness. I pressed myself against the wall behind the door, hiding behind it as it opened. I held my breath and waited.

Liam stepped inside. His familiar scent—sandalwood and mint—filled the air. I fought the urge to inhale deeply.

He paused, surveying the chaos of papers strewn across his desk. “What the hell?” he murmured to himself. I watched him move towards it, my muscles coiled tight. The moment he was far enough into the room, I bolted and raced down the hallway. Liam's shocked voice called after me, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The man I'd fallen for was definitely a killer, and I wasn’t sure what he would do to me if he caught me. I flew down the stairs. The front door loomed ahead.

“Jade! Jade, wait!” Liam's voice boomed from behind me. I reached for the handle, yanking it desperately. It was locked. My stomach dropped.

“No, no, no,” I muttered, panic rising in my throat. He’d known someone was in here and had planned to lock them in.

“Jade!” Liam called again, his footsteps thundering down the stairs.

I spun around, eyes wild. The haunted house stretched before me, but after all the times I had walked through it, this was by far the most terrifying. I darted into the nearest passageway, my breath coming in short gasps. What would he do if he caught me? The man I thought I knew wouldn't hurt me, but the Liam in those journal entries… the man out for revenge… what would he be willing to do to be sure his plans went through? My fingers brushed against my gun. A small comfort, but one I hoped I wouldn't need to use. My training seemed to evaporate, replaced by raw fear. I'd navigated this place countless times, but now it felt alien. The mirror maze loomed ahead. I hesitated, then plunged in. I didn’t have a choice. I just needed to find another way out of here. Reflections of myself multiplied infinitely. Which way? I spun, disoriented. Lights flickered and cries and screams started sounding from every direction.

The motion sensors were on. Fuck.

Footsteps sounded from behind me. Close. He was too close. And then I hit a dead end. My hands pressed against cold glass. “Shit,” I muttered. I whirled around, drawing the glock. My arms extended, muscle memory taking over.

Liam appeared, his chest heaving. Our eyes locked.

He froze, taking in my stance. Recognition dawned in his eyes.

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