Page 61 of Behind the Shadows
Once he grabbed steaks from the refrigerator, he opened the cabinet and located a few potatoes. He seasoned the food, thenpopped the potatoes into the air fryer on the countertop. He opened another cabinet and removed two glasses along with a bottle of bourbon. “Drink?”
“Please.”
After he poured us the amber liquid, he sat at the small table and placed my glass in front of me. “I want to trust you, Holland. I want to be able to share things with you about my life, but it has to go both ways. I understand now about Draco and Cooper, but if we’re doing this, then no fucking bullshit. No lies, no half-truths between us. Not only that, but I’m also going to share things with you in the greatest confidence, so if you need to be psychiatrist Holland with me when we have these conversations, I’ll sign a confidentiality form. I’m not kidding about any of this. It’s not only me who’s involved, and I can’t risk their safety if you go AWOL.”
I traced small circles against my thigh, lost in the puzzle he’d given me.
“What do you need to feel safe?”
He smirked at me. “Not any psychobabble. Just be real. You don’t have to analyze me or fix me. I don’t want to be fixed, but I do want to understand who I killed.” He stood and tapped an impatient rhythm on his arm. “For now?—”
A loud bang had me sliding onto the floor and under the table without realizing it.
“What the fuck?” Kip motioned for me to stay there as he reached into a kitchen drawer and removed his gun.
Female laughter echoed through the hall as footsteps approached.
What the hell? I crawled out from under the table as a beautiful dark-haired woman with blood spattered all over her clothes and pretty face. She entered the room followed by a dark-haired guy with a man slung over his shoulder. We all froze, staring at each other.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Kip?” the man growled.
Kip rubbed his jaw, then folded his arms over his chest. “Ella, Death, meet Holland.” He motioned to me.
I gave them a little wave and managed to speak, my voice high-pitched and foreign to my ears. “Hi. We’re about to have dinner.” I cringed at my choice of words. What the fuck had I gotten myself into? If there was a time to run, it was as soon as I could manage to get around these people and out the door. Clearly, I’d made a huge fucking mistake.
“She wants to run,” Ella said, her body language rigid as she assessed me. “But that can’t happen so you might as well have a seat.”
I thought I had been in danger before. But now the real madness had come for me. Even though I tried not to assume these people had killed someone, the evidence supported my fear. And Kip knew them?!
Kip nodded. There was no use in resisting. I would have to plan my escape when I had time to assess the situation. I would only have one chance. I could easily identify the woman. The man wore a grim reaper mask similar to Kip’s devil one, so I couldn’t identify him, but I was fucked and not in a fun way.
Death, as Kip referred to him, tossed the person on the floor, and I folded in on myself. The face was mutilated—eyes carved out, mouth twisted into a Joker's smile. This wasn’t Kip’s world I was stepping into. It was hell, and I’d just been welcomed as a guest.
“It’s date night,” Ella said without even cracking a smile as she joined me at the table. “I find it interesting that Kip brought you here for starters. Kip hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend, but it would explain some of his disappearances lately. However, my point is that this isn’t a normal place to hang out and have dinner. So why are you here?”
I fidgeted in my chair, staring at the dead body. I couldn’t tell her that Kip had kidnapped me and brought me here against my will and then I decided to stay. It also wasn’t my place to share he’d killed a girl when he was younger, and it was haunting him.
Ella reached out and patted my hand. “It’s okay. The first time someone figures out what this place is used for is always the worst.”
Kip tried to warn me, but as usual I didn’t listen. I would be lucky if I walked out of this alive, right? If shit went south, Draco wouldn’t have a target to hunt because I would be buried next to the corpse on the floor. Inwardly, I shuddered and willed myself not to show my fear.
“Uh, yeah, we were taking a weekend away and getting to know each other better.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. Not taking my attention off Death. His gray eyes were cold, unfeeling, but when he looked at Ella, I caught a glimpse of humanity.
“I was debating telling Holland more about the Horizon Society. She knows a little bit, but not who I work with,” Kip explained.
Death motioned for Kip to follow him, and they left the room.
“They’re going to try to figure out what to do with you.” Ella raised a dark brow at me. “We had no idea Kip was here, which puts us in an awkward position.”
I turned in my seat and looked at her, no longer wanting to see the dead man. For a moment, I weighed the pros and cons of opening up to Ella. At this point, I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Offering her leverage against me, the same as I had on her, might level up the playing field in my favor. I hoped anyway.
“I suspect we’re more alike than you think. First, I’m a psychiatrist, so the things I’ve heard are under strict confidentiality. I know how to keep a secret. Second, I’ve killedsomeone with my own hands, slit his throat open like he was a turkey on Thanksgiving Day,” I said, shaking only on the inside.
I savored the look that flashed over her expression—hunger tinged with calculation. Was she surprised that I’d shared my darkest secret with her in an attempt to bond? A moment passed. Her gaze dropped to the unmoving guy at our feet, then lifted again, met mine as if weighing me, as if measuring my soul for leverage.
“So,” she said, lips barely moving, “you understand.”
Wind rattled the dirty, gold-flecked glass of the door behind her. The light had shifted now, to the color of faded peaches and sticky kitchen floors. She stood, crossed over to the body, and knelt—quick, clinical, like muscle memory. It was a ritual I knew well: catalog the evidence, decide what to hide, what to leave for the next person to see or not.
