Fuck. Fuck, she has no reason to think Midnight is a killer, and as far as I know, she hasn’t made the connection to Muerte yet. It’s not like she’ll ever be able to tell anyone, but I don’t want to see the look on her face. “It crossed my mind after the first time I snuck through your window. If you would’ve gone to the cops, I’d have done what I had to do.”

It’s not a good enough answer and I know it.

I see the hurt flash across her face before she looks away. “I don’t believe that.”

“Why not? You think I’m deranged enough to break into your house, rape you, then come hang out with you after like nothing ever happened, but you think I’d draw the line at killing someone to keep myself out of jail?”

She flinches, cheeks reddening as she forces her gaze back on me. “Yes.” Her eyes narrow in that defiant way I’ve grown fond of. “Maybe not someone, but you wouldn’t hurt me. You just fucking wouldn’t.”

It’s hard to argue with her when I’m scooping mashed potatoes into her mouth instead of strangling her. I can tell myself whatever I want, but the bottom line? I’m stalling. “Just eat your food.”

She takes a few more bites before she tries again. “Scar, it doesn’t have to be this way. I won’t report you for giving us what we both need.”

“Unless I stop, right?” I huff. “Then it’s open season.”

The brat has the nerve to roll her eyes at me. “Obviously I didn’t mean that.”

“No? And why should I believe that?”

“Because I never told anyone, not a fucking soul. I just...” She sighs. “I wanted to know you’d come back.”

There’s a vulnerability in her voice that makes my chest tighten and I know I can’t stay down here. I shove the last piece of steak into her mouth then grab the plate, making my way back upstairs feeling like I have the weight of a thousand suns on my shoulders. If I kill her, she’s gone from the world. I can never bring her back. And if I don’t...

Tossing the plate in the sink, I push those thoughts away and move forward with the next logical step. I call my boss.

“The fuck do you want?” he slurs. I should’ve known, it’s late at night. Of course he’s drunk. “Calling off again?”

“Yeah. For a couple of weeks this time. Fell down my basement steps after one too many shots of Crown Apple and shattered my right hand trying to brace myself. Won’t be able to hold a wrench for a while.”

He howls a laugh that turns into a cough. “And why the hell shouldn’t I fire you outright, Solis? You’re a pain in my ass.”

Who cares if he does? I’m out of here as soon as Avery’s in the ground, anyway. “Because I’m the only mechanic you’ve got who doesn’t bitch when you hand me fucked up jobs. I turn more time than anyone even when I do take days off, and your shop would go under without me. You know it.”

He’s silent for a moment. “I’ll need a doctor’s note. Don’t milk it. And you better be here twice the hours when you come back.”

“Yeah. Got it.”

Hanging up, I glance back toward my basement door and run my hand over my chin. I bought myself some time, but eventually... I’ll have to do the thing I least want to do.

Unless...

Sixteen

Avery

I don’t know what to do.

I’ve finally gotten something I’ve only dreamed of since I moved in, and it ended up biting me in the ass. I can see how lost he is, how scared he is that me knowing his secret has him acting irrationally, but this isn’t the answer. I truly don’t believe he’d kill me, and even now I wouldn’t turn my back on him, but how do I fix this when he’s so closed off to finding another solution?

I lay there for what feels like hours, taking in all the computer screens that have virtually every angle of my home before I hear him finally return to me. Although I’m still afraid, I feel myself calm at the possibility that I’ll be able to talk to him again. When he’s out of sight I can practically see him pacing a hole in the floor as he convinces himself this is the only way, but when he’s down here looking at me, I know I have a chance to make him see the light. To see that I’m his light. “Scar,” I say softly when he comes into view. “Why were you gone so long?”

“I had things to take care of. Do you need to use the restroom?”

“Yeah.” I hold out my hands for him to undo my restraints. “Can we shower?”

He hesitates, but nods once. “You can. But there are no weapons or windows in the bathroom, so don’t get any ideas.”

Sighing, I stand up to seem more confident than I am. “Why would I need one? You’re not going to hurt me.”