Page 24 of Edge of Control

I didn’t visit his grave often. It brought too many negative emotions clawing back up to the surface for me. A lot of “what-ifs” and “whys” swirled around me like buzzing gnats. No matter how much I tried to swat them away, they’d still make themselves known, trying to worm their way back into my skull.

Being at a graveyard never put me in a good headspace. Aside from reminding me of suffering a huge loss, it alsobrought me back to the times I’d fantasize about putting myself in a coffin. There was a dark siren call that edged into the corners of my soul whenever I was around a graveyard.

Suicidal ideation was something I had battled for a long time. It was a battle I almost lost. Especially after losing my dad. That’s when the dark curtains began to close in, snuffing out any light, any hope. I’d spend days—weeks—wondering what would be the easiest way out. Gun? Pills? Jumping?

My heart felt heavy as those thoughts came swirling back into focus. I was stronger now; I could resist them. I knew they were all lies. There was never an easy way out. Life simply wasn’t fair, and the sooner I accepted that, the easier it was to play the game.

I dropped my head, closed my eyes. Religion wasn’t a big thing for me, either, but I still found myself saying a short prayer. Just a quick message up to whoever was listening, hoping it could be relayed to my dad.

I’m trying to make you proud. I’m trying to make you happy. I hope you’re at peace.

I woke up that morning with extra anxiety swirling inside me. Last night had been fun—sexting Theo, exchanging vids—but that didn’t stop nightmares from settling in. I tossed and turned all night, waking up multiple times. Many of the nightmares had to do with the case. About whether or not I was in over my head. If the victims would be better served by someone else taking this case. Should I hand it off to someone else at Stonewall? Was I making any obvious mistakes?

And then the nightmares shifted and turned into vivid recreations of the day my father died. A day that should have been mine to meet the grim reaper. It was a call I should have taken if I hadn’t used a sick day to stay home. A sick day that was really just me dealing with a terrible hangover.

It was a selfish, dickish move. One that cost my father his life.

I’m so sorry.

And here I was, years later, trying to make amends by making a difference and not sure if I was even capable of doing that. I‘d always had issues with my self-confidence. I never felt like I was good enough. Like there was always some milestone or goal that I missed, barely able to reach it no matter how hard I strived.

This case was turning out to be no different. I had a name to hunt down now, but that didn’t mean much. And the killer was still out there, likely planning their next move.

I let out a long sigh. It was as if all the oxygen in my lungs pushed out in a single breath.

It didn’t help that my thoughts were also being clouded by a growing interest in the tattooed and mysterious Theo Glass.

Bumping into him at the coffee shop was a pleasant surprise. It made the thorn he implanted in my side dig even deeper. I could usually shake guys off after being with them a couple of times. I only had one long-term relationship that ended in a brutal heartbreak and a heavy dose of trust issues. He’d abandoned me when I was at my lowest,and it made me feel as though all men were absolute fucking garbage. Me included.

Since then, I’d kept my interactions with men to a strictly “pump and dump” kind of level. And with how low my sex drive had been lately, it wasn’t all that difficult to avoid them. I had a couple I’d chat with regularly, but none that made me want to pursue them romantically.

Not in the way Theo did. I had gotten way too excited when his text landed in my phone last night. And it wasn’t just my cock that reacted. I felt my heart rate pick up. Like I was some high schooler being asked out to prom or something.

How fucking crazy was that?

My thoughts kicked into overdrive. I started to second-guess my responses to him, trying to craft messages that led to making sure he’d respond. Hell, even my dick pics needed a few takes before I got them right. Normally, I didn’t give much of a fuck. But not with Theo. It was different with him.

He was different.

We talked all night. Even after we sent each other videos of us finishing. The texts continued until my eyes got droopy, and I started to type nonsense. By then, I realized it was time to call it, and I told him good night. He said it back.

…It was nice, really fucking nice.

And it was just one more thing to add to my pile of distractions, my mounting column of worries. I already had doubts about being able to handle this case. I couldn’t have doubts about being able to impress a man.

Maybe I had to cut Theo out of the equation. At least until after this job was done. It would be the responsible thing to do. Keep my entire focus on figuring out who Nevermore was. Then, once that monster was unmasked, I could shift back into wooing Theo.

Yeah. That sounded like a solid plan.

I just had to pull it off.

The Stonewall offices were busy today. Two clients sat in the waiting room. I walked past the front desk, giving a friendly wave to Mason Barker. He was the always smiling and slightly quirky receptionist who had convinced Zane to allow his regal Persian cat named Gregory to be an honorary Stonewall employee. Gregory sat on a perch attached to the window behind Mason’s desk, his emerald-green eyes laser focused on a bird that hopped from branch to branch on the tree outside. Mason looked up from his computer and waved back before putting up a finger. “Oh, hold up.”

“Whatcha got for me?” I asked.

“Alejandro was organizing an office lotto run. Apparently, the prize pot is something like a hundred million. Want to jump in?”

“Hell yeah.”

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