Chapter Fifty-Five
Jackson
Brooklyn finally drifted off again. Curled into my side on the couch, breathing slow and soft. I didn’t dare move for a while. Not when her fingers were still fisted tight in my shirt like she was hanging on for air. So I just sat there, holding her, letting the room stay quiet.
I keep replaying that scene at the river, though. The way her body was laid out. Bound. Clean. Stilettos placed just so. The water was just touching her hair. Like she was some kind of ritual offering.
Same signature. Same monster.
And he got ahead of us again.
I’d gone out there because Morris called me before the report even hit dispatch. He wanted me to see it first. Wanted me on the ground before the scene got crowded. Said it was better that way. I don’t know if it was. Felt like stepping into a ghost I keep chasing but can’t get my hands around.
I look down at Brooklyn sleeping. Her face is soft now. Peaceful. But her hand is still gripping my shirt. Like, even in sleep, she knows the world isn’t safe yet.
I lean down and kiss the top of her head. Just a brush. Barely a thing.
Then I gently slide my arm out from under her and stand.
Her eyes flutter for a second, but she settles again.
Good.
I grab my phone from the counter and step into the kitchen. The tile is cold. The sun is just barely up. The city hum outside the window is more background noise than anything. I don’t look at the coffee maker. I don’t want the taste of that scene sitting on my tongue while I drink something warm.
I call Morris.
He picks up on the first ring.
"Tell me she’s okay."
"She’s asleep now. She’s alright." I rub a hand over my face. "You needed details."
"Yeah. Walk me through it."
I do. Plain. Direct. No extra words. I tell him how the body was placed. How clean everything was. How the prints were wiped. How the only thing left was the stiletto brand. Same brand as before. Same model. Same sick calling card.
"He’s escalating," Morris says.
"I know."
"He knows we’re closing in."
"Yeah. He’s enjoying it."
There’s a pause. Not long. Just enough to mean something.
"You sure you’re good to stay on this, son?"
I look back toward the living room. Brooklyn is asleep in my hoodie, and her hand is still clenched tight.
"Yeah. I’m not backing off."
"Alright. I’ll call you when we get the tox panel and post results.”
“We both know what they’re going to show,” I say, frustration lacing my tone.
“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. Then, “You should get some rest while you can."
"Yeah." He hangs up. I don’t.
I just stand there. Phone still to my ear. Listening to nothing.
This bastard hunted her. Stole her. Hurt her. Came within minutes of killing her. And now he’s still out there. Taking more. Leaving them like trophies.
My chest tightens, and my teeth grind. I feel that familiar burn of rage that used to scare me when I was younger. I used to get into fights I shouldn’t have. Used to swing first. Used to take hits just to feel something else besides that heat.
But this isn’t that kind of anger. This is quieter. Sharper. Intentional.
He doesn’t get to keep doing this.
I put the phone down and turn when I hear footsteps.
Caleb is standing in the doorway.
Without knocking, just there. One of the guys must’ve assumed he could come up, probably Linc. He’s got zero sense of boundaries sometimes.
Caleb looks tired. He has his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. Like he’s been pacing somewhere for a while before coming up.
"Is she doing alright?" he asks.
"Sleeping." He nods, his eyes looking past me toward the couch. Not creeping. Just making sure.
"Good. I just needed to see…for myself."
I don’t say anything.
He looks around the kitchen like he doesn’t know where to put himself. "I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll go in a second. I just…couldn’t not check in."
"Yeah. I get it."
He looks up at me. Surprised. Like he expected me to tell him to get the hell out.
"I know I already said it," I say. The words feel stiff in my throat. " But thank you. For finding her. For staying with her. For not…messing it up."
Caleb’s jaw ticks once. His voice comes out low. "I didn’t do anything special. She did all the hard parts. I just showed up at the right time."
"Doesn’t matter. You still did it."
He nods again. A slow one. Like he’s letting it actually sit this time.
Silence sits between us, and for once it doesn’t feel like something sharp.
Then I hear soft footsteps and turn.
Brooklyn is in the doorway, wrapped in my hoodie like she’s drowning in it with her hair messy and her eyes still heavy but awake. She sees Caleb, and her face softens into something like gratitude.
Her voice is quiet. "You came."
Caleb gives a small smile. "Just making sure you’re okay."
"I am. Thanks to you." Her voice cracks at the edges. "I never said that. I should have. Thank you."
Caleb doesn’t look away this time. He nods and meets her eyes full on. "You did, but I’m glad you’re safe."
Brooklyn steps closer. Not touching either of us. Just being here. Present. Stronger than she knows.
"I should go," Caleb says.
But before he does, he looks at me again.
"You’ll catch him."
I don’t blink. "Yeah. I will."
And then he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.
Brooklyn steps into me without thinking. Her hands slide up my shirt, and I put mine on her back, pulling her in.
She buries her face against my chest, and her voice is small when she speaks.
"You’re going to chase him now."
"Yeah. I have to."
"I know." She nods against me. Her fingers twisting into the fabric. "Just don’t forget to come home."
I bend and press my forehead to hers. Her breath warms my lips.
"I’m not going anywhere, Baby. Not ever."
She looks up at me, and I see fear and love tangled up in her eyes. And trust. Real trust. The kind that costs something to give.
I lower my mouth to hers. It’s not the first time that I’ve kissed her since I got her back, but it’s the first time I’ve felt passion in her returned kiss.
I pull her into my lap, and her legs wrap around my waist, my hardening cock pressing against her dampening panties.
I want to go further, needing to feel close to her, needing to feel that connection again, but I’m also afraid to push her too far too fast.
I start to pull back, but she follows me, not letting me go as she begins to gently rock herself against my erection.
*Fuck.*
“Baby,” I say, trying to pull back again.
“Please, I need you,” she begs, only pulling back far enough to whisper the words against my lips.
Wrapping one arm around her back, while placing the other beneath her ass, I stand up and take her to our bed, gently placing her against the mattress.
Her chest is heaving and her hands are grasping for me, trying to peel my clothes off as quickly as she possibly can, but I don’t want fast. I want to take my time, memorizing and worshipping every inch of her body, making her cum on my tongue over and over again, before I even think about sating my own needs by sinking my cock deep inside of her tight pussy.
The world outside might be getting louder.
But here, right here, it’s just us.
And I’m going to show her just how much I love her, mind, body, and soul.
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