Byron pulled me to the back of his car and popped the trunk, throwing my blood-stained hoodie and a briefcase inside, then pulling out a different black hoodie that matched his and handing it over to me.

I took it and stood there like a statue—and then he took it back from me, putting it around my shoulders, making me put my arms through, all the while promising me…things.

Like okayness.

All rightness.

Fine-ness.

“Please, stop lying,” I finally said, gathering up the will to speak, and that shut him up. He closed his mouth with a clack the same as if I had punched his jaw.

Which had probably happened to him earlier—there was a bruise forming beneath his eye, I could see by his car’s interior light.

“We need to leave, Sunshine,” he said, propelling me toward the door.

I didn’t let him put me inside. I stood still, staring at him and his word in turns.

His KILLER was mocking me now.

I had been an idiot and a fool.

Byron grabbed hold of my shoulders and ducked his head down so that he was the only thing I could see. “No matter what just happened, Elle—or what you think of me now—you’re safe with me. And we need to go. Please.”

I wanted to run into his chest and I wanted him to hold me and I really fucking wished I could go back in time and just not have picked up that shift at the bar.

“Please, Sunshine,” he said, begging me, while pushing me inside the car at the same time.

“’Fine,” I told him, slowly letting him win.

Byron sped back towards civilization, pulling out his phone and speaking to someone in loose code. I already knew what the situation was and why it needed cleaning.

By the time we hit streets I recognized again, my brain had started speeding up.

I was in danger.

I needed to get out—and get away from him.

As if Byron had read my mind, I heard the car doors lock, and I turned to gawk at him.

“Don’t run, please,” he said, glancing over. “It’s for your own safety, Elle. Just trust me till the morning, all right?”

I looked out at the night sky where the moon was still rising.

Dawn seemed a very long way off.

**

Byron pulled his car into the valet stand at a fancy hotel downtown and hopped out, coming around to get my door for me—either being a gentleman, like usual, or making sure I didn’t run.

Then he went back to the trunk, pulled out the briefcase, tossed his keys to the valet, and had the gall to reach for my hand.

I didn’t want to make a scene, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him touching me, either. I shoved my hands into my pockets and headed for the door into the lobby.

He ran up beside me and pulled even. “Please act natural,” he murmured, while turning to registration, and he managed to talk to the clerk like absolutely nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t murdered a man less than an hour ago.

The clerk looked between us and winced. “I’m so sorry, it’s convention season, we only have one of our penthouse suites available.”

Byron pulled out his wallet and a black credit card, to slide over along with his ID. “That’s okay, we’ll take it.” I noticed he kept the edges of his hoodie’s cuffs down, to likely cover the fight marks he’d have on his knuckles.

“And can I see your ID, too, miss?” the woman asked me.

I blanched. “I left my purse in the car.” It was true. “Fuck,” I cursed, but then Byron was there, catching my shoulders again.

“It’s okay,” he told me, willing me to believe him. Then he looked back at the clerk. “I’m sorry, our flight was delayed, our luggage is back in O’Hare, she’s not feeling well, and I tripped coming right off the plane,” he said, gesturing briefly at the growing bruise on his cheek. “So far this expedition to see my parents has been a nightmare. I’m really looking forward to a shower and a bed.”

The clerk glanced at her screen, and then looked at me.

Does Byron even have parents? I thought.

“His mom gave me food poisoning,” I lied for him, to her, then looked back at him with a scowl.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, Sunshine,” he said softly.

“You’ve been promising a lot of things,” I said, standing my ground and hugging myself.

But that was enough to make the clerk decide we were having a lovers spat, and I wasn’t being trafficked or anything. “Here you go, sir,” she said, handing Byron his cards back. “Cute matching hoodies,” she said, trying to elevate the mood.

“Thanks,” Byron told her. “They’re from work.”

**

We stood resolutely apart in the elevator, but I balked as we reached our room’s door on a top floor. “I can’t do this, Byron.”

He turned to face me, occupying all of my field of vision, again. “I’m not asking you to do anything. I just want you to stay safe with me for the night, Elle, while things get handled.”

Handled…like what I’d heard in the car.

“Then what?” I asked him, looking up.

I saw his jaw clench and his throat move as he swallowed. “Then I take you home, and I never see you again.”

And then it was my turn to feel punched.

“Was everything a lie?” I asked.

I already knew I’d been a terrible judge of character, and I’d gone against all the literal warning signs—but had he really been acting, all this time?

And if he had been…why?

I watched him steel himself to look coldly at me and say, “Yes.”

If I hadn’t already ridden a rollercoaster that night, between both of the haunted houses we’d been too, I might’ve had a tougher skin, but as it was I couldn’t help but reel a little.

“No, I’m lying, Jesus, fuck,” he cursed, shaking his head as he kept his eyes on me. “But isn’t that what you want, Elle? For me to go away?”

I put my hands up to my mouth. “I don’t know anything right now,” I answered—and saw something like wild hope flash in his eyes.

“Then come inside, and we’ll figure it out,” he said softly, reaching past me to swipe the room card to open the door.

He stepped in without question, with that briefcase in his free hand.

The briefcase that’d apparently been worth four other men’s lives, and one girl’s broken heart.

“What’s inside of it?” I asked him.

“Elle—I shouldn’t—” he started.

I interrupted. “I’m only staying if you tell me what’s in there, Byron.” I stood resolutely in the hall. “If you want me to trust you until morning…then you have to trust me some, too.”