Page 28 of The Love Obsession (Bloody Desires #11)

I paused to take a breath as my Uber showed up. I hopped into the back of the Toyota, nodded at the driver, and returned to my podcast. We didn’t need to speak on the way home.

“Roger was stabbed with a kitchen knife. His kitchen knife. Doesn’t sound too bad, right?

Wrong. The blade penetrated him thirty-six times in the chest, legs, back, and shoulders.

His stomach was cut open and his large intestine was used to choke him.

It’d been wrapped around his neck. Now, whether that was done before or after his death is yet to be known.

The medical examiner still needs to do their report on the body.

Cause of death will be murder. But what was seen is hard to believe.

On his back, the word STUPID was sliced into his skin.

Stupid. What does that mean and why is it important to the murderer?

He wanted the world to know this specific word in regards to Roger Postman. ”

My gut churned. A sick sensation rolled up my throat and I pushed down the urge to throw up. Stupid —the same word he’d used on me as an insult. Had he used it on someone else? Then, there was the way he’d died. It was more than violent—it was fucked up.

“According to my informants, the police are at a loss when it comes to suspects. The murder was committed by someone who knew what he was doing. He was precise and his attacks were without hesitation. This was a person who’d likely killed before, but his method is unique.

There’s no pattern in Roger’s death other than it’s personal and this killer is angry.

Yet, when someone’s angry and they murder, they make mistakes.

They let their emotions get the better of them. So far . . . this murderer didn’t.”

I wriggled on the seat, an uncomfortable sensation creeping through me. I’d told Zayn Roger had called me stupid, hadn’t I? He’d been furious that Roger dared to be an asshole. He’d asked me questions, too, wanting to know more about Roger, but that didn’t mean he’d killed him.

Right?

It didn’t make sense.

Zayn hadn’t known me long enough to murder someone for me.

The idea that Zayn was a killer was crazy...except it also wasn’t, because I’d sensed something dark inside him, hadn’t I? His eyes were a window into a deeper side of him that I couldn’t understand. What if this was it?

I switched off the podcast, not ready to listen to any more.

My mind swirled with questions I didn’t have the answers to.

Zayn had shown me nothing but kindness from the moment we’d met, and he was the last person who could kill someone so violently, but that didn’t stop a part of me from getting stuck on the idea.

He could fight, couldn’t he? He’d proven that at the nuthouse and again when Peanut had taken me down.

For a man smaller than me, he knew how to bring a bigger target down.

He was confident and light on his feet. Graceful, if that was even the right word.

Shaking the thoughts from my head as the Uber pulled into Zayn’s driveway, I gave the guy a simple “thank you” before I raced out of the Toyota and to the front door. Zayn wasn’t home yet, but he was going to pick up Ginny from kindergarten, which gave me time to do some investigating of my own.

Using the key he’d given me, I opened the door, dropped my belongings on the floor near the entrance, and raced upstairs to his bedroom.

There were a few places I could look, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to risk it.

If I started snooping, he’d have a reason to kick us out, and I couldn’t afford that.

But if he was a murderer, I needed to know. I had to protect my sister.

I started in his closet, but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. His suits and clothes were sorted by color, and he was very organized. His shoes were shiny and polished, lined up neatly in a row. His ties were in a set of drawers and were folded in order of the shades and patterns.

The nightstands beside his bed were no better, but I didn’t expect there to be much in them. He wasn’t going to place anything incriminating where I could find it, and the top drawer was where he put his lube and condoms.

Next was the bathroom, but I also didn’t expect to discover a big clue in there, either.

It was where I showered. But he had come home late last night.

He’d told me he was walking Bernadette, but now that I was wide awake, I realized it didn’t make sense.

Ginny had already made sure Bernadette went outside before they went to bed.

I scratched my chin in frustration as I stared around the bathroom.

If I was a killer, where would I hide my trophies?

Didn’t all murderers take a piece of their victims’ lives?

Fuck. Who was I kidding? I didn’t know jack shit about any of this.

I never cared about true crime because I’d lived it every day in the park.

We’d had all kinds of bad people living around us, and we’d learned to mind our own business.

It saved our lives. Maybe I should carry that motto while living in Zayn’s house.

Even if he did kill Roger, it was a favor for me.

Roger was a fucking asshole.

I cursed and scrubbed my face before a thought assaulted me.

Zayn had told us we could go wherever we wanted except the third floor.

Ginny was a lot of things, but she mostly listened to rules, so she’d done as he’d asked and stayed away.

I’d never thought much of his request, focusing on being safe away from the trailer park rather than what he might have had in the forbidden part of his house.

I couldn’t say the same now.

Swallowing around the nervous lump in my throat, I forced my legs to move as I headed toward the set of stairs that led up to the next floor.

My knees shook, but I straightened my spine to encourage confidence.

If I found something horrible up here, I’d need to get Ginny out as fast as I could, which would be hard because Zayn was getting her from school.

Pushing the thought away, I paused at the top of the stairs.

The third floor was much smaller than the other two, and there were three doors.

The first on the right opened easily enough and it was nothing but a half bathroom designed with black marble.

It was sleek and elegant and matched the rest of the house.

The second door on the right was an empty room. It was tiny compared to the other spaces I’d seen in this house, and I suspected it might be another guest bedroom if he chose to make it into one. Or a child’s playroom.

The only door I hadn’t attempted to open was on the left, and when I tried to turn the knob, it didn’t move.

Locked. My heart pounded up in the base of my throat and a prickle of fear spread across the skin on the back of my neck.

My hand trembled as I attempted it again but was met with the same resistance as before. Damn it.

I glanced around the doorway and considered my options.

I didn’t have very many. If I really wanted to know what was inside, I’d have to kick it down.

If I did that and there was nothing, I’d ruined a chance for me and Ginny to live in peace for a while.

But , if there was evidence in the room that Zayn was a killer, then I could grab Ginny and run.

The idea of having to leave Zayn made the contents of my stomach sour.

I enjoyed his company and not just because of the sex.

He was relentless but kind. He’d cared about Ginny when he had no reason to, and he’d given us a home.

Just this morning, he’d made us breakfast—omelets and fresh fruit—and got food ready for us in lunch bags like we were a real family.

He’d sent me to work with more than a kiss. I had a delicious sandwich to eat, too.

I slammed my forehead against the door. “Fuck.”

What should I do?

“Is there a problem?”

I tensed at the sound of his smooth voice, which echoed around the narrow hallway of the third floor. Glancing toward him, I noted that he didn’t look mad. He had his arms crossed, his muscles straining the baby blue material of his shirt, but his face was soft and unconcerned.

“What are you looking for, boy?” He took a step toward me.

Downstairs, I heard Bernadette bark and Ginny laugh, and the muscles in my shoulders bunched together as I shuffled backward.

There was nowhere for me to go. Behind me was a wall with a window and I was at a dead end.

The hair on my arms rose as that darkness in his eyes made an appearance.

Deep, deep down, there was a monster, and the craziest part was that I wanted to tame it. Maybe I’d finally gone insane.

His gaze flicked to the door I’d been standing at and back to me. “Tell Daddy what you want to know.”

I inhaled sharply and stood straighter, even though my knees wobbled from fear.

I was a fighter, a man who enjoyed pain and the thrill of a good fistfight, but I’d never been this close to a murderer.

I’d never thought about literally ending someone.

Once in a while, someone died in a fight, but that wasn’t the same.

They signed up for it and those were accidents.

That wasn’t to say I hadn’t wanted to kick the shit out of Roger, but Ginny needed me and I couldn’t protect her from jail.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my chin. “I need the truth. Did you kill Roger, Daddy?”