Chapter 24

I’d been holed up in this dingy motel room for days, the cheap wallpaper peeling at the corners and the scent of stale cigarette smoke clinging to my clothes. I’d chosen this place specifically for its anonymity, a nowhere spot across state lines that was as forgettable as it was nondescript. I’d left the flowers behind in that other motel room, a silent rebuke to the person who dared to track me down. Or so I’d thought.

The fast food cheeseburger I’d picked up was more out of necessity than desire—a greasy, fatty distraction from the relentless tension that had become my constant companion. The wrapping crinkled in my hands as I took a bite, the taste of processed meat and melted cheese doing little to improve my mood.

That was when my burner phone buzzed, the sudden sound jarring in the quiet of the room. I glanced at the screen, my gut tightening at the sight of an unknown number. The message was simple, yet it sent a chill running down my spine: “Didn’t like my flowers? 🙁 “

I set the burger down, my appetite vanishing as I wiped my hands on a napkin. My fingers hovered over the screen, the wheels in my mind turning at a frantic pace. I had to tread carefully; the last thing I needed was to walk into another trap.

“No, I loved them. Who should I be thanking for such a thoughtful gesture?” I typed back, keeping my tone nonchalant.

The responses came quickly, almost playfully. “Who else?” “Silly!”

My heart thudded in my chest, the implications of those words sinking in. I’d been so careful, yet somehow, I’d been found. My hands shook as I crafted my reply, my mind racing with possibilities. “How did you get this number?”

The answer, when it came, was both a relief and a new source of dread. “Oh! I hired someone to find it for me. So glad it was right!” The message was followed by a string of emojis—a smiling face, a shooting star, a red heart. “If you liked my flowers, how come you haven’t messaged me on any of my socials?”

A laugh bubbled up from deep within my chest, a sound that was equal parts amusement and disbelief. It was her—Cora. Somehow, the tenacious woman had managed to track me down, turning the tables on me in a way that no one else had ever done. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, and I couldn’t help but smirk at her audacity.

Cora had found me. The woman who’d managed to burrow her way into my life, who’d seen beyond the mask of the Lord, had used her own brand of cunning to locate the one man who’d tried to disappear into the shadows. I should have been furious, but instead, I felt a grudging respect for her determination.

I leaned back in the rickety motel chair, my eyes fixed on the phone screen. For the first time in days, I allowed myself a moment of reprieve. Cora was resourceful, I’d give her that. And if I was being honest with myself, there was a part of me that was glad she’d reached out. It was a connection to a world that I’d thought I’d left behind, a world that wasn’t entirely consumed by death.

I picked up the burger once more, taking a bite as I contemplated my next move. Cora had played her hand, and now it was my turn. I tapped out a response, my words carrying a hint of the game that was now afoot. “Maybe I was waiting for the right moment to say hello.”

I hit send, the smirk still playing on my lips. This cat-and-mouse game had just gotten a whole lot more interesting. The burner phone felt like a live wire in my hand, each message from Cora sending a jolt through my system.

“Waiting for the right moment, huh?” she replied, the playfulness in her words evident even in text form. “I guess patience is a virtue after all.”

I chuckled, my thumbs flying over the screen. “Patience? I’m not sure I know the meaning of the word. But for you, Cora, I might just make an exception.”

The three dots danced across the screen, signaling her response was coming. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Haides. Or maybe it’ll get you everywhere. I haven’t decided yet.”

I leaned back against the pillow, a sense of ease settling over me. This was new territory for me, this banter, this… flirting. I’d spent so long in the shadows, hiding behind a mask of stoicism and rage, that I’d almost forgotten what it was like to connect with someone on a level that didn’t involve fear or pain.

“Either way, I’m at your mercy,” I typed back, the words feeling lighter than they should have.

Her response was quick, a witty retort that made me smile despite myself. “Mercy? I thought you were the Lord of Pain. Aren’t you supposed to be the one holding all the power?”

I paused, my fingers hovering over the keys. She was right, of course. I was the one who was supposed to be in control, the one who dictated the terms of engagement. And yet, here I was, willingly surrendering to the whims of a woman who had turned my world upside down.

“Power is an illusion, Cora. And right now, you’re the one holding the strings.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of words and wit that I found myself enjoying more than I cared to admit. We traded stories, shared laughs, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to forget about the danger that lurked just beyond the motel room door.

Cora was a bright light in the darkness that had become my life, a beacon of something that felt suspiciously like hope. I found myself opening up to her in ways I hadn’t thought possible, revealing bits and pieces of my past that I’d kept hidden from the world.

“You know, for a serial killer, you’re not half bad,” she teased, her message followed by a string of laughing emojis.

“And you, for a dark romance author, are surprisingly normal,” I shot back, the warmth of the exchange wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

As the night wore on, our conversation took on a more serious tone. We discussed our fears, our dreams, and the twisted paths that had led us to this point. Cora listened—really listened—and I found myself wanting to tell her everything, to share the burden that I’d been carrying for so long.

“Haides,” she said, her words punctuated by the soft glow of the screen, “you’re not alone anymore.”

And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.