Page 21

Alora

I almost felt like a normal person as I rubbed out my hair with a towel. Greyson let me shower in his apartment bathroom all on my own without him staring at me like I would find a way to claw a hole through the wall and escape. Pulling the tank top on, I took a moment to stare at my reflection. I barely recognized the person staring back at me.

Was I really falling for a serial killer? Was I really okay with it?

Gripping the edge of the sink and leaning in closer, I inspected myself and the bruises from the other night. “What the hell am I thinking?”

If I were smart, I’d smash the mirror and cut my wrists with the jagged edges. A couple of weeks ago, I would’ve done it without a second thought, but now…now I didn’t know anymore. Greyson told me he believed me. I’d stopped trying to plead my case when I was sentenced and carted off. No one believed me then, and I figured that everyone would see the homeless alcoholic who had always been in trouble with the law. I was branded a liar before being given a fair trial.

There was a soft knock at the door. “You ready,” Greyson asked.

“Yeah, just a sec,” I called back as I put on the massive hoodie that he’d given me to wear. It was one of his, and I could’ve put two of me inside it. When I opened the door, he was leaning against the wall across the hall, and the moment he looked at me, I knew the answer to my question. Yes, I was falling for him, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

I looked away and then stuffed my hands into the deep pockets of the hoodie. I yelped as Greyson grabbed me, even though it didn’t hurt. He pushed me back against the wall, his body towering over me as he easily trapped me.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

I shrugged. “In this case, it's a bit of both. I can’t tell you something I don’t understand.” I watched his hand warily as it hooked my damp hair behind my ear.

“Is this about your jealousy earlier?”

My cheeks heated, and I knew that the blush would give me away. “Maybe.”

He smiled. “Did you want to hurt her?”

“Yes.”

“Kill her?”

“Maybe,” I admitted and looked away from his eyes. “But I don’t know if I would have.”

“I think you would. You have a bit of devil inside of you, Doll. You just struggle to let it out to play.”

“I can’t be like you,” I said. “If that’s what you’re hoping for.”

His fingers drummed on the wall beside my head. “No, that’s not what I want.” Greyson pushed himself back and held out his hand for me to take like this was a casual date. “Come on, let’s get home.”

Home? Stunned, I wandered along beside him as we walked into the living room, where I spotted Lennox sitting on the couch. Greyson mentioned the first night I met Lennox that they were best friends and brothers but not by blood. He also made it very clear that Lennox knew who and what he was. The undertone was that Lennox wasn’t going to help me, so I might as well save my breath.

“Night, man,” Greyson called out.

“Yo,” Lennox answered, lifting his hand in the air, but he didn’t look in our direction. I’d also figured out that he was a man of few words. We walked down the stairs and out the back. Greyson let go of my hand to lock the door, but it wasn’t until he took it again that I realized that I could’ve bolted. I didn’t even try.

“No cuffs?” I stared at Greyson as I got into the truck. Was this one great big trick?

“No cuffs. You know what I’ll do and am capable of doing to someone you care about if you try anything foolish. So…no cuffs.” Greyson lifted my hand and pushed my sleeve up, further exposing the red mark on my wrist from the cuffs chafing. “I’ll take care of this when we get home.”

He closed the truck door, and all I could do was blink as he wandered around the front and got in. This was either a joke or a test. Had to be.

I stared at this profile, but when he didn’t say anything more and pulled out of the parking spot, I let it go. Sometimes, it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“How was your night,” I asked, trying to fill the awkward silence.

Greyson laughed and then smiled as he looked over at me. I felt compelled to smile back. “It was fucking fantastic. With as many times as you came tonight, I should be asking how you are.”

I covered my eyes and looked away. “Don’t even…it was so humiliating. There were so many guys watching, and a few of them took off to the bathroom.” I shook my head and stared out the window, but Greyson snatched my hand off the center console and nipped at my fingers as he glared at me. His emotions moved as quickly as a storm rolling in from the sea, and his volatile nature made him just as dangerous.

“Although I do love watching you struggle to fight off the orgasms, don’t ever feel humiliated. As I said, let them stare. Let them see what they will never have but what I’m going to have tonight.”

Wiggling in my seat had become the norm while around him, and as he stared at me now, I could feel my body lighting up in anticipation. Ripping off the hoodie and hanging out the window to cool off wasn’t a half-bad idea.

We pulled into the driveway, and I waited for Greyson to open the truck door. There was no telling if he would deem me opening the door as an escape attempt, and I wasn’t taking any chances.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he said, dragging me up the stairs behind him. We stopped outside of a closed door, his hand resting on the handle as he smiled at me. “This is very exciting for me.”

I gripped his hand tighter, hesitation filling me as I wondered what the hell I was going to find. What would excite a serial killer to the point of childish glee? “There isn’t another dead body, is there?”

“Valid question, but no.” I relaxed. “At least not one that I’ve killed.” And then he said that.

Greyson pushed open the door and flicked on the light. I held my breath as I stepped inside the room. I couldn’t make out what exactly I was staring at, but the longer I looked around, the more it began to make sense. It felt like we’d stepped into an FBI movie where they had a massive war room with pictures of crimes and newspaper clippings. Red lines traveled all over the walls. There was also a map with pushpins and dates beside each one. There were crime scene photos of bodies, some in black plastic bags, while others were close-ups of images that had been carved into people.

“What…what is all of this?”

“This is the greatest serial killer who has ever lived. I don’t care what anyone says. They can debate me until they are blue in the face, but….” Greyson pointed at the wall of images that all had deceased written across them in marker. “He is the undisputed best. The GOAT. The man that no one will ever catch.”

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Greyson walked me over to the closest wall and ran his hand lovingly over one of the images as he admired it. It was a close-up of a woman from the stomach up. Her skin had been carved into highly detailed artwork. Her eyes were missing, but colored cloth had been sewn into their place. I stared at the pictures, and my stomach wasn’t sure it agreed with him.

“This is some of his earlier work. His later stuff is even better.” Once more, Greyson led me along the wall and began tapping prison photos. “These are his later kills. Each of these men was on the FBI’s Most Wanted List.”

“And they’re all dead?”

Greyson nodded, his eyes glittering with a manic excitement. “They are.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you showing me this? Do you want to kill him?”

His mouth dropped open. “No…well, I would if that was the only way to become the best, but if I’m honest….” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Unless he trained me, I don’t think I could ever achieve all of this. There are hundreds of kills, and those are only the ones I’ve been able to find in newspapers or on the dark web. No, I think of him as a mentor, someone I aspire to become.”

“And no one knows who he is? How is that possible?”

I shrugged. “I know who he is now.” Greyson slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a square napkin from the bar. He held it out for me to see. The Chameleon. I glanced between the words and Greyson’s face, trying to understand what he saw. “He came into my bar. He spoke to me and told me that he liked my work and that it was creative.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Congratulations, another serial killer is wandering around New Orleans, and he knows who you are and likes how you kill. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to find that on a Carlton Card .

“That’s amazing,” I said, and Greyson let go of my hand to walk over to a board that looked to have random bits and bobs on it. Delicately, he slipped the napkin inside of a plastic holder and pinned it to the board.

“It is. He came looking for me.”

I walked back over to the board of this Chameleon’s later victims and pointed. “What did they all do to wind up on the Most Wanted List?”

“You name it. Serial rapists, murderers, and pedophiles mostly. But some ran cults, and others bombed high-value targets.”

“So…I don’t mean to burst your happiness here, but can you tell me why you think he is not after you next? I mean, if he hunts those who do things like he does, wouldn’t it make sense?” Worry filled me as I stared around the shrine of a room.

Greyson held up his finger and smiled. “Because if he wanted to kill me, I’d never see him coming. In fact, I’d already be dead.”

“How can you be so sure?” Was I really concerned that a serial killer could be after my serial killer? That was a messed-up mental puzzle for another time.

Greyson crooked his finger at me, and I wandered over to where he was standing. He pointed at an extremely detailed sketch. I sucked in a gasp, my hand going to my mouth as I took in the truly magnificent image. It was so lifelike that I could see the tears on my face as my hand touched my sister’s stone. The other half of the image was of a man in what looked like an open, hooded cloak. I couldn’t see more than his chin and nose, but I knew it was Greyson. The large upside down cross on his chest announced it, and so did the unique knife in his hand. Every little detail was sketched to perfection.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“He was watching me while I was watching you. And he was around for more than one night. This position you’re in was the first time I saw you, but his image of me is from another night while I waited for you to return. This one picture tells me that we both would’ve been dead long before he spoke to me in the bar. He knew who I was and my schedule. The Chameleon was following me without me ever knowing. I’m amazing at what I do, and I had no idea.”

Greyson smiled like this was the best thing ever as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the piece of art.

“So, where did he leave this for you?”

“Right here. It wasn’t here yesterday. He was in my home.” Greyson’s eyes found mine, the exuberance almost infectious, and yet I had an urge to look over my shoulder to make sure this man wasn’t coming up the stairs. “The Chameleon has sent me a message, and I’m getting it loud and clear.”

I touched his arm and said a word that I never thought I’d say in a scenario like this. “Congratulations.”