Page 24

Max

The drive to the lake house was exactly what I needed.

Windows down, music blasting, and Lara’s off-key singing drowning out any lingering worries I’d had about Connor, the police, or my fucked-up double life.

“Come on, Max, sing louder! I can still hear myself!”

Lara laughed, cranking up the volume on the stereo until my ears were practically bleeding.

“If I sing any louder, I’m pretty sure I’ll cause an avalanche,”

I retorted dryly, making her laugh even harder.

God, it felt good to laugh like this again, to just escape from reality, even if only for a few days.

No murders, no stalkers, no cops, no bodies sat at the bottom of lakes.

Just me, my best friend, and endless bottles of wine by a lake so far away from that small town I called home.

Connor had sent me flowers, explaining why he was all of a sudden a ghost, not showing up to Melinda’s, claiming he’d see me Friday after work.

I had no way of contacting him though, to tell him I wouldn’t be there.

The funny thing about having a stalker is that was that he was just always there, I had no reason to need to contact him, so I couldn’t tell him where I would be.

I could’ve popped by Melinda’s and asked Mel to send on the message I suppose, but I started to like the idea of making him sweat, taking the control away from him and placing it firmly in my hands.

After all, it had taken him until fucking Thursday to explain his disappearance.

Maybe he’d punish me again.

I bit my lip at the thought.

Lara glanced over at me, suddenly looking serious, lowering the volume of the music.

“You okay, babe? You’ve seemed a bit off recently.

I mean, besides your sexcapade that you’re refusing to share details about.”

“Im fine,”

I said quickly – maybe too quickly.

“Just stressed about work.”

She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.

“Fine, keep your secrets, Hannah Montana.

But if this whole mysterious man situation turns sour, I’m going to beat his ass myself.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be terrified of your intimidating five-foot-nothing self.”

I teased, nudging her gently

“You underestimate the power of a pissed-off short girl with acrylic nails.”

she said, wiggling her hot pink nails at me menacingly.

I laughed, rolling me eyes.

“But seriously Max, this isn’t you.

You don’t do feelings, and men.

I basically had to beg you to have birthday sex for fuck’s sake.”

She looked at me with concern on her face.

“Just, be careful, okay?”

I nodded, but her words stuck with me.

Lara had always been so fiercely protective, and part of me wanted so desperately to tell her everything – to spill every twisted detail.

I wanted desperately to unburden myself from this terrifying yet intoxicating web I’d gotten caught up in.

Of murders and stalkers.

But I couldn’t, I couldn’t risk losing her.

Or worse – putting her in danger.

The lake house was beautiful.

Tucked away among towering oak trees that loomed high into the clear blue sky, the house overlooked the shimmering lake.

Lara’s parents’ getaway was the perfect balance of luxury and rustic charm, filled with memories of happier times before the world turned dark for me.

We used to come here a lot during the summer before my dad had died.

Spending long, hot days swimming around in the water, discussing all of the things that were making our lives hard.

If only I knew then, what my life would become.

That my existence would be turned into nothing but bitterness and anger.

We spent the first evening outside by the lake on one of the docks, sipping wine straight from the bottle, feet dangling in the cold water.

Lara rambled on with the tales of her recent disastrous hookups, her stories becoming increasingly animated with every gulp.

“So then this guy – fuck Max, he literally howled like a wolf when he came.

I shit you not, it was like mating with Jacob from Twilight or something.”

“You need therapy,”

I teased, laughing so hard tears streamed down my face.

“Therapy, orgasms, or another bottle of wine, I’ll take any of the above.”

She declared, clinking our bottles together.

I lay back on the wooden dock, staring up at the stars and letting the alcohol numb the edges of my paranoia.

Nothing from back home had crossed my mind in over an hour, my brain too busy listening to Lara mumble on whilst I counted the number of constellations I could see smattered across the sky.

but my ability to avoid everything at home was short lived.

Lara’s voice dropped to a whisper, cautious yet playful.

“So… you gonna tell me anything about your sexy stalker yet, or am I gonna have to keep guessing?”

I hesitated.

How do I tell her that in fact, yes, he really was a stalker, and not like a funny, cute, ‘oh you stalker’, kind of stalker.

But like, an actual fucking stalker.

“He’s… complicated.”

“Complicated,”

she echoed skeptically.

“Right, because that’s always healthy.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Healthy is overrated.”

“True, boring as fuck, too,”

She conceded.

“Is he at least good in bed?”

“Mind-blowingly good.”

I replied with a sigh.

Lara groaned dramatically.

“Fuck you.

I’ve been sleeping with tinder fuckboys who think two pumps and a slap on the ass makes them pornstars.”

We both laughed, and for a moment, life just felt peaceful, like old times when the most complicated thing about life was trying to get through college and fucking as many college boys as we could.

Then Lara shattered that peace entirely.

“Oh shit,”

she said suddenly, sobering slightly.

“I nearly forgot.

So the serial killer I mentioned earlier this week...”

My stomach plummeted through the dock beneath me. “Yeah?”

“Apparently, now the entire police force is onto it and they think they’re close.”

My heart pounded, I could feel the colour draining from my face.

Fuck, had my cover slipped? Was this it?

“Oh?”

I managed weakly, praying she wouldn’t notice the tremble in my voice.

“Yeah, crazy, right? Anyway, like I said before, probably just rumours.

You know how gossip travels when you live in a small town.”

She waved her hand dismissively.

“Forget I said anything.”

But I couldn’t forget.

I spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking, pretending everything was normal, while paranoia churned relentlessly in my gut.

If Lara knew, if whispers about me were spreading – then how much longer did I have before the walls came crashing down? And if those whispers were true, if they thought they were close to finding the killer, to finding me, then my life was over.

By the second day at the lake, I was almost ready to forget my paranoia.

Almost.

We had spent the day swimming in the lake, eating BBQ food that we had cooked on the grill whilst catching each other up on the more mundane parts of our lives.

Lara was self employed, being a fashion blogger online really took off for her, and she was doing amazing.

She spoke about how there were a few opportunities in Paris that kept popping up, but she didn’t know if she could handle working for somebody else after being her own boss for so long.

Lara’s work ethic was something I truly admired about her.

When people saw her, they just saw a slutty little blonde who loved talking about sex and going out partying.

But she had grown her online empire all by herself, pouring her soul into her work and it had truly paid off, she was basically a celebrity in the fashion blogger world.

That evening Lara dragged me out to a local bar filled with tourists and weekend vacationers, excited to find some ’grade A dick’ as she so eloquently put it.

It was the only bar for miles, filled with pool tables and music blasting.

It was crammed inside, with bodies moving to the heavy beats, and alcohol flowing freely.

“Come on, Max,”

Lara pleaded, pushing another shot into my hands.

“Live a little.

I know you’re thirty now, but you don’t have to act old!”

“Fuck off,”

I laughed, knocking back the shot, wincing at the burn.

“If I’m old, what does that make you?”

“A certified cougar,”

she announced proudly.

“And I plan to prove it tonight.”

I laughed, feeling warm, fuzzy, and blissfully numb.

I danced, laughing at Lara’s shit attempts at the robot.

Temporarily forgetting everything felt good.

But hours later, lying awake alone in my room after Lara had successfully pulled some biker guy, the silence was deafening.

She had begged me to go and hook up with his friends, but I declined, saying I was going to head back to the house instead, telling her to have fun for me.

Connors face was back in my mind, invading every thought.

His dark eyes, intense, possessive – the way he touched me, broke me down, had my body bedding for more.

Heat pooled to my core as I thought about the way he had trailed his mouth all over my body, the way he had made me hold his cum in my mouth so he could drink it out.

He was absolutely fucking filthy, in all the right ways, and I missed him.

God, how fucked up was that? Missing my own damn stalker.

I sighed heavily, rolling onto my side.

I’d come here to escape, but the only thing I’d truly escaped was my sanity.

Tomorrow, I’d have to go back and face reality – and Connor. And fuck, I had no idea if I was terrified or excited about that.

Maybe both.

I woke up before sunrise, my mind fuzzy from the lingering traces of alcohol.

Blinking at the ceiling, I stretched lazily, letting myself sink into the quiet peace of the lake house before the weight of reality came crashing back.

I was gong home today, back to the endless cycle of filing away dismissals and watching the monsters I chose not to hunt slip through the cracks —I had to be careful, I couldn’t remove every monster from the world, I was just one person.

was going back to.

But I wasn’t just going back to my mundane job, I was going back to Connor and whatever the fuck was happening between us.

My pulse quickened at the thought of him – his perfect mouth, demanding touch, the possessive hunger he always held in his gaze that made me weak.

My God, I had issues.

I forced myself from bed, padding barefoot into the kitchen.

I needed coffee and clarity, the latter not being likely, but hey – a girl could dream.

I’d just poured myself a steaming mug when the front door slammed shut, followed by quiet giggles.

I spun around, my heart jumping in my chest just in time to see Lara tiptoeing into the kitchen, wearing the previous nights dress and smeared lipstick.

“Well, good morning, Cinderella,”

I said, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Lose a glass slipper, or just your dignity? What was this one’s name?”

She glared playfully, flipping me off, holding up just one shoe with the other hand.

“Both, actually.

And if you must know, his name was… Drew? Derek? Something with a D.

Definitely started with a D.”

I snorted into my coffee. “Classy.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk,”

she shot back, pouring herself a generous cup of coffee.

“At least my hookup wasn’t my admitted stalker.

Did he even buy you dinner first?”

I’d told Lara the small details last night, that Connor had admitted to stalking me.

Not telling her the intensity of it, making it seem a lot less obsessive than it was, I just needed to get some part of my life off of my chest, even if I was hiding most of the details.

“Nope, skipped straight to dessert,”

I answered dryly, sipping my coffee.

“But trust me, dinner wasn’t needed,”

She grimaced, waving me off.

“Gross.

Keep your weird stalker kinks to yourself.”

I laughed, the tension easing in my shoulders.

This was why I loved Lara, there no judgement, just blunt honesty and sarcastic banter.

She was my anchor, even if she had absolutely no fucking clue how deep my shit went.

“Coffee?” I asked.

She nodded, “Please, I’m just gonna hop in the shower first.”

After coffee and taking turns to shower, we spent the rest of the morning tidying up the lake house, packing our bags, and tossing playful insults back and forth.

Lara was nursing her hangover, but my mind kept drifting back home, back to reality.

My chest tightened at the thought.

Lara must’ve sensed my sudden seriousness.

“You okay, babe?”

She asked softly, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I forced a smile, sighing deeply.

“Just thinking about how nice this has been, being normal for once.

No work, no stress, no town gossip of serial killers.”

“Well, we don’t have to rush back,”

she offered, eyes hopeful.

“We can stay longer if you want.”

I shook my head gently, “Reality awaits, unfortunately.”

She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.

“Maybe reality needs to be shaken up.

You’re thirty now, Max.

Maybe it’s time to let yourself live instead of existing between your apartment and shitty office.”

I gave her a half-hearted smile.

“Maybe you’re right.”

But reality wasn’t that easy, my life wasn’t just mundane paperwork and boring routines – it was blood, darkness, and legacy.

And lately, that legacy felt heavier than ever.

During the drive back, we sat in comfortable silence, the scenery passing by unnoticed as I drove.

Lara dozed lightly, sunglasses sliding down her nose, completely unaware of the turmoil raging within me.

I kept my eyes on the road ahead, watching trees blur by as I lost myself in thought.

What if Lara was right? What if it was time to stop, to let go? Was I ready to end the legacy I’d fought so desperately to uphold? My fathers face flashed through my mind – his kind eyes, his gentle smile, the way he protected me from a world filled with darkness, only to silently hide his own darkness behind a mask of calm.

If I was caught, everything would unravel.

The truth would spill out, staining his memory.

People would never understand, they’d only see him as a monster, just as they would see me.

My stomach clenched painfully, I couldn’t let that happen.

But could I really walk away and silence the part of me that needed this – the darkness, the justice my father had instilled in me?

As we pulled into town, my decision felt heavier than ever.

The choice between safety, and legacy, between freedom, and revenge.

I wasn’t ready yet, but I knew one thing clearly – my days as judge, jury, and executioner were numbered.

They had to be, or soon, everything I’d fought to protect would crumble, dragging my fathers memory down with it.

And I couldn’t allow that, no matter what it cost me.