Page 31

Max

The next week passed by in a blur — a surreal whirlwind of Connor dominating my thoughts, my bed, and now my life.

The way he had come and collected me from work, over buying a shit load of snacks to make me feel better.

My heart swooned at the sight of him looking so disheveled and worried.

Every morning at Melinda’s was no longer me quietly sipping my coffee; it had become our ritual, and at the end of each workday, Connor would be waiting for me outside Mel’s, coffee in hand ready to go, his eyes always glinting with hunger every time he saw me, sending shivers down my spine.

We’d share heated glances over steaming coffee cups every morning, our quiet flirtation so intense it felt almost scandalous in the bright light of day, and every night, we’d fall into bed, consuming each other until we couldn’t breathe, then slipping into a comfortable sleep.

But something was off.

As incredible as he was, as attentive, sometimes possessive, which I had come to adore about him, he had started acting different, almost distant.

At first, I brushed it off.

Everyone had bad days, stressful weeks — but his tension grew with each passing day.

There were shadows beneath those deep brown eyes, and his hands were often clenched, his jaw twitching every so often when his thoughts clearly slipped somewhere else.

He started leaving before the sun fully lit my bedroom, which left me questioning what this was, where it was going.

For the first time in years, I cared enough to worry.

Was he losing interest and struggling to find a way out? Or had he discovered more about me, more than I ever wanted him, or anybody else to know.

A chill ran up my spine at the thought of him discovering what I did, who I truly was.

Would he hate me, think of me a monster? My heart sank at the thought.

I’d had no choice but to introduce him to Lara.

The fact me and Connor were basically inseparable except for work, meant I had no other option, especially when the meeting was accidental when she barged into my apartment.

I had completely forgotten it was our monthly takeaway night.

Me and Connor had been in my bedroom, sweat slicked with exhaustion and tangled up in my sheets when Lara burst through my bedroom door.

She shrieked, covering her eyes, “Oh my god Max, give a girl a heads up that you’re boning before I come over.”

She peaked through her fingers, dropping her hand whilst staring at Connor.

Her mouth twitching up with silent approval.

“This Mr sexy stalker?”

She asked.

“Oh my fucking god Lara get out!”

I yelled, throwing a pillow at her.

She cackled, exiting the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“I have wine bitch, hurry up and get out here.”

She shouted.

“Mr sexy stalker?”

Connor asked, a smirk creeping across his mouth.

“Shut it.”

I responded, shoving at him before climbing out of bed.

I threw on one of his t-shirts that I had stolen—it hanging baggy around my thighs—and put on a pair of shorts, padding out of the bedroom to Lara.

I kept their introduction short, not daring to let her too close, in case she found out just how crazy this man I had fallen in love with was.

Connor padded out of the room behind me, wearing grey sweats and his zip up hoodie, which he left wide open, revealing him shirtless beneath.

Lara eyed him appreciatively, trailing her eyes up and down his body.

“Excuse you, slut.

Eyes back in your head, he’s mine.”

I grinned, “Lara, Connor.

Connor, Lara.”

I knew Lara was protective, but my god, the way she had grilled him.

I wanted the floor to swallow me up where I stood.

Especially when she threatened to murder him if he hurt me.

“And just so you know, I might be short, but I pack a mean punch.”

Lara said, showing him her fist.

He laughed at her, patting her on the head before coming over to place a kiss on my cheek.

“I’ll leave you and lunatic...

I mean Lara, to it.

I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

Me and Lara spent the rest of the evening having our usual takeout and gossip marathon, both swigging our own bottles of wine.

Life felt insanely good, but good never lasted forever.

Over a span of a few weeks, the office had more than the occasional police appearance at work, which me set on edge.

Yet still, nobody approached me.

The one cop that was tall, with dark hair, seemed intent on watching me though, a little too closely for comfort.

I played the part, the quiet nobody that just did her job and went home.

I filed away dismissed case after dismissed case, not daring to take any with me, not daring to try another kill with eyes so close.

I couldn’t risk it, despite the guilt eating at me that I was letting my father down.

But I was being safe for him, keeping his legacy guarded.

It seemed though, that each appearance also set Connor on edge, and I couldn’t figure out why.

Was he scared I was going to be murdered? It had been weeks of us practically living in each others’ pockets, except from when he would vanish in the middle of the night, yet I hardly knew anything about him outside of the small parts he allowed me to see.

He claimed I was his, but my mind constantly questioned whether I was just still a fun little game to him, until his next prey came along.

I was curled up on the sofa with Connor, a Marvel movie playing in the background, his hand idly playing with my hair when my thoughts were interrupted by Lara knocking loudly on my apartment door before obnoxiously swinging it open with a thud.

“Okay, bitch, birthday girl reporting for duty! Tonight, we are going out, we’re getting drunk, and if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll share my birthday boy with you.”

I rolled my eyes, laughter bubbling up easily despite my anxiety.

“Ew, no thanks.

I’m good.”

Connor cleared his throat, “You know I don’t share what’s mine, Lara.”

He glared at her.

Lara blushed, “Whoops, didnt know you were here.

Sorry stalker, I was only joking.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “but seriously Max, let’s have fun tonight! You’ve been way too stressed lately.”

I raised a brow at her.

“And you’re acting like you haven’t had sex in months.

Didn’t you get laid literally last weekend?”

I asked, pushing up and away from Connor.

He grabbed my waist, pulling me back down to him as a giggle escaped my lips

She shrugged, eyes sparkling.

“Ugh, get a room,”

she joked, “And also, birthday sex hits different.”

I snorted, shaking my head.

“You have no shame.”

“And you have no fun.

You’re becoming such a grandma, I thought this new boyfriend of yours would loosen you up.”

She angled her head to Connor.

The blush instantly crept across my face.

We still hadn’t put a title on anything, even though he had claimed me, we never spoke much more on where it left us.

I hesitated, swallowing hard.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

I felt Connor stiffen slightly next to me, but he didn’t say anything.

Lara crossed her arms, eyebrows raised knowingly.

“You mean the guy that you’ve spent every waking moment with for weeks? The guy who put that pretty fucking collar around your neck like he owns you? Sure, Max.”

Connor smirked beside me, my fingers brushing instinctively against the necklace, warmth blooming beneath my cheeks.

I couldn’t deny that it felt good to belong to someone, to belong to him.

But I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was going on, that he was keeping something from me.

Connor cleared his throat, placing a kiss against my temple.

“I’m taking this as my cue to leave.”

He leant close to my ear, whispering gently, but with a tone that sent a shiver down my spine, “Be a good girl when you’re out Maxine, remember who you belong to.”

He pushed away, giving Lara a smile, “Happy birthday slut tits, enjoy your birthday dick.”

She flipped him off laughing, “Enjoy your evening alone you fucking loser.”

I smirked, watching the two most important people in my life get along like they had known each other forever.

When he left, Lara’s expression softened.

“What’s going on babe? You look worried.”

“It’s nothing.”

I shook it off quickly.

“Just...

he’s been acting weird and distant.

He’s probably just busy.”

She tilted her head sympathetically, squeezing my hand.

“Maybe you need a break from obsessing over him.

Tonight’s about us—no boys, no bullshit, just fun.”

I laughed, nodding.

“Okay, you win.

Let’s get ready.”

An hour later, we stood in front of my bedroom mirror, makeup scattered across every surface, music blasting, pre-drinks flowing, giggles echoing around my apartment.

Lara had made me wear a tiny black dress she had pulled from my closet, pairing it with a pair of dangerously high heels that were a twisted ankle waiting to happen.

I swore sometimes she thought we were still 21.

But tonight wasn’t about comfort, it was about drowning my anxiety and celebrating my best fucking friend.

Lara was stunning, dressed in a shimmering gold mini dress that hugged every curve, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders.

She spun around, striking an exaggerated pose, pushing up her tits.

“Damn, we look fucking hot.”

“Obviously.”

I winked, taking another shot of vodka, letting the burn chase away any lingering panic that was clawing at my stomach.

Lara lifted her glass, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“To me turning twenty-nine for the third year in a row.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“You’re an idiot.”

“An amazing idiot,”

she corrected.

“Now drink up, grandma.”

I laughed, throwing the drink back, feeling the alcohol begin to ease my mind.

Fuck, maybe Lara was right.

A night out is exactly what I needed as a distraction from the storm brewing in my chest, the feeling of impending doom that always seemed to loom overhead these days.

We stumbled into the club just after eleven, the bass vibrating through my chest.

We headed straight for the bar, ordering three tequila shots each, grimacing at the taste as it burned down my throat.

Lara grabbed my hand, dragging me onto the dance floor as the music swallowed me whole.

I danced until my lungs burned and my feet ached.

At some point, a guy approached me, tall and handsome, his smile overly cocky.

But the second he leaned in to whisper in my ear, I held up a hand, shaking my head.

“Sorry, not interested.”

Lara raised her eyebrows as he skulked away.

“Wow, you really are whipped for someone you claim isn’t your boyfriend.”

I smiled, my hand once again reaching up to the delicate necklace locked around my throat.

“Guess I am.”

As the night wore on, despite her best efforts to keep it a girl’s night, Lara finally locked lips with a guy who had been flirting with her all night - a tall blonde, covered in tattoos.

I felt my eyelids getting heavier, the alcohol making the room spin a little.

I tapped her on the shoulder, “I’m gonna head home, Lar.

You okay?”

She pulled back briefly, lipstick smudged, her eyes glazed.

“I’m fucking great,”

she shouted over the music.

“Text me when you get home.”

I nodded, squeezing her hand gently before slipping through the crowd.

The air outside was cool, almost sobering.

Almost.

I moved away from the club, heels clicking unevenly on the pavement as I fumbled with my phone to call a cab.

Suddenly, strong arms grabbed me roughly from behind, dragging me into a dark alley, slipping a hand over my mouth before I had chance to scream.

“What the fuck —”

I barely managed to mumble underneath the hand over my mouth before my vision exploded with sharp, blinding pain.

Everything went dark.