Page 30 of Reaper's Hunt

If he wasn’t both my ex and a police officer, he’d be my next victim but people will miss him and they always look to the partner. I let out a little growl of frustration before snatching the cloth from him, blood rushing down my arm as I squeeze it. His eyes bulge a little before I stalk over to the washing machine and throw it inside. “Women bleed every month, Harley. Get over it.”

“No, no that’s not it. You’ve got a cut on your face, too. What’s in the bag?”

I can’t with this man right now. “I’m doing some extra cleaning. I use trash bags because I’m not some suburban mom with a wicker hamper. You’re reading too much into it because you’re wasted and desperate to play hero.” I reach around him to drag the trash bag toward the washing machine before tying the top plastic in a pretty bow.

“That’s… that’s a lot of blood, though, Selene.”

“You don’t get to play detective with me,” I growl at him. “We dated, it didn’t work, and now you’re trying to worm your way back, goad me into another date, but it’ll be the same shit. You’ll swear I’m perfect, give me god-awful sex, then try to mold me into some woman your mom would’ve loved. I’m not that girl, Harley. Never was.”

I turn away from him, checking to see how close the rideshare is when my mysterious caller starts sending me texts.

Had another idea for a gift, but I could make your ex the next chess piece if you like.

Don’t touch the fucking police.

A hint of feelings? Just joking. I would never. But maybe hide that banana jar.

I frown, my gaze snapping over to the kitchen and realizing that it’s sitting on the counter. I could have sworn that I placed it on my shelf in the backroom but it’s just out here, on display.Fuck.

Get rid of him, Doe. Wouldn’t want our game to end so soon. If he finds out, I’ll have to kill him.

I clear the messages from my notifications just as Harley leans over my back and swipes my phone from my hands. I have no idea what he’s doing until he hands it back to me, the rideshare updates gone. “Did you cancel the fucking car?”

“I don’t need it. You’re fucking lying to me, Selene. I have no idea why or what it’s about but I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

I stand frozen in my living room, confused and a little terrified of Harley in this state. There were many obvious reasons we didn’t work out, but this was one of the lesser known ones. Everything was an investigation to him when it came down to it. There was always a right or wrong, black and white. Never any gray area with this man.

My phone vibrates again and I look down, realizing that Harley’s life is in my hands.

You’ve got an hour to get rid of him.

Shit.

I pull up Dante’s chat with me and text him the only thing I know that will have him running.

Come get your fucking brother.

Harley sways forward and grabs my arms, a snarl turning up his lip. Jesus Christ, I’ll never forgive him for this. “Harley, let go and sit the fuck down. Stop acting like I’m on trial. You’re drunk and you’re seeing things that aren’t there.”

His hands ease just enough for me to guide him back to the couch but I’m not off the hook. “I know you weren’t telling the truth at the precinct,” he slurs, his eyes dipping to my bloody arm. “And I feel like there’s other things I should know. Did someone hurt you, Selene?”

“What are you talking about? You’re not making sense.”

He leans forward, clasping his hands over his spread knees. “I know you get impulsive sometimes and I get it, but… that blood, the way you’re acting. Did something happen? Did someone threaten you?”

“Are you asking how I’m doing or are you accusing me of something? Because this bullshit sounds like you’re building a case, Harley. This is why we didn’t work. You’d get some idea in your head, then dig through every detail to prove yourself right. This isn’t a courtroom and I’m not your suspect. You came into my home, drunk, mumbling nonsense, and now you’re grilling me like I’m hiding a body.”

“You’re getting defensive, Selene. What am I supposed to think?”

“Of course I am!” I snap, stepping closer as I prop my hands up on my hips, my robe slipping just a little more off my shoulders. “I have to be, because you can’t get it through your thick skull that I’m not into you. I haven’t been for a while. You’re not my knight in shining armor and I don’t need saving.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say as he shoots to his feet, his hands suddenly on my shoulders. “You don’t need to lie to me.” His gaze dips to the raw bite in my skin but doesn’t address it, although his expression hardens. “Babe, tell me what’s going on. I can help you.”

I shuffle backward, disgusted by this man’s touch. “Harley, I didn’t see anything. I’m stressed, I’m tired. I dropped out of medical school to pay bills. I’ve got no family who gives a shit and I live in this rundown apartment, smiling at customers while telling them aquatic blue looks great when it’s hideous. I’m done with this… this thing you do, thinking we can start again. I’m not going to dinner with you. I’m not dating you. We can be friends, but that’s it.”

“You’re still fucking lying.”

I’ve killed men and placed their bodies around Ashthorne. Never once was I terrified of getting caught or being found out. And yet, in this moment, I’m just a little terrified that Dante won’t save me from Harley’s need to dig.

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