Page 20 of Undone

The words escaped me before I could stop them. “Crazy? I don’t think you are crazy. If anyone’s crazy, that’s me. I mean, I’ve been dating a guy that’s being investigated by the FBI for God knows what.”

The words left my mouth without thinking, a blur of frustration and truth. But the second they were out, regret washed over me. Now wasn’t the time to unravel my mess.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, my voice softer now. “I’m not trying to make this about me. I just… I get it. Sometimes it feels like everything is spiraling out of control, and yet somehow,youare the one holding the strings.”

Dorian shrugged. “Nah, don’t worry about it,” he said with a dry chuckle, his voice quiet but appreciative of the shift in focus. “Do you know what happened?”

“With John?” He nodded and I continued. “I was questioned for hours, but all I really know is that I’m in the dark.”

His gaze fell to the floor, lips pressed into a tight line as his fingers drummed restlessly on his knee. A sudden unease settled in my stomach.

“What is it?” I asked, leaning forward, my brows knitting together.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his hands fidgeted, his focus glued to the floor, evading mine.

Finally, he spoke, but his voice was taut. “I don’t think I’m supposed to say anything.”

“What do you mean?”

The last twenty-four hours were a blur, and I was trying to keep my head on straight. But now, his silence only fueled the growing fear that there was still more to come.

Dorian opened his mouth, then closed it again, his jaw working back and forth. A flush crept up his neck and spread to his cheeks, his eyes darting to anything but mine.

He shifted in his seat. When he finally met my gaze, it was only for a fleeting second before he looked away again.

“What aren’t you supposed to say?”

He still didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood and paced, his footsteps fast and uneven.

I stood, following his movements.

My mind was a tangled mess of thoughts, each one conflicting with the next, pulling me in opposite directions. I couldn’t grasp on to anything solid.

His teeth clenched, muscles twitching before he exhaled slowly. “I… I’m not sure this is the right time…”

“Dorian, what’s happening?” I pressed.

He stopped, his shoulders stiffening as he turned to face me. His gaze locked onto mine as he gave me a small nod. “Do you know about the Marketplace Murderer?”

I could feel the blood rushing to my head. “The what?”

“The guy on the news,” he said quietly. “The one killing women across the country.”

I frowned, trying to piece it together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“They think…” he hesitated before taking a deep, steady breath. “They think John’s the Marketplace Murderer.”

Suddenly, the world around me went still.

My mind spun with the image of John—a murderer? The disbelief sat heavy on my chest, cold and foreign.

My brain couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. In all the possibilities I came up with, this wasn’t even on the list.

“What? No. That’s—no, that’s not possible,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. His gaze kept me still, even as my world seemed to tilt.

“It is, unfortunately,” he said.

I refused to process the words, pushing them away like they didn’t belong in the same space as the reality I knew. I wanted to argue, to dismiss it, but the truth in his eyes held me there, my hands trembling.

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