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A Shot In The Dark.
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2025-08-31 00:17:48
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How To Love A Murderer. The Puppet’s Strings.
Chapter Sixty Four: The Puppet's Strings Elijah stared at the message glowing on his laptop screen. His stomach dropped, twisting into a cold, hard knot. He was here. “Babe, I’ve gotta run out for a bit!” Elijah called, his voice a little too high, a little too tight. He forced a smile as he grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet, moving too quickly. “A friend’s in town. Last-minute thing!” John poked his head into the room, his brow furrowed with worry. “At this hour? Everything okay?” “Fine, fine!” Elijah chirped, the lie tasting like ash in his mouth. He couldn’t meet John’s eyes. “Just boring family stuff! Back soon!” He was out the door in a flash, the click of the lock sounding like a prison gate slamming shut behind him. John sighed, shaking his head. “Forgot to shut down again,” he muttered to the empty room, moving to the coffee table to power off Elijah’s laptop. Just as his finger hovered over the trackpad, a new message notification popped up on the screen. Cousin
How To Love A Murderer. Cracks in the Glass.
Chapter Sixty Three: Cracks in the GlassIan tossed the little blue pill into his mouth, chasing it with a gulp of water. The familiar routine was supposed to bring calm, but lately, it just felt... automatic.The sound of footsteps made him look up. Linnea walked into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee machine. Her eyes, sharp and trained from years as a pharmaceutical researcher, flickered to the small, unlabeled metal container in his hand. She stopped dead."Ian," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet morning. "What is that?"He felt oddly caught, like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, this?" he said, trying to sound casual. "It's just my medication. For my nerves, you know? After... everything.""Let me see." It wasn't a request. Before he could react, she plucked the container from his grasp. She popped it open, poured one of the distinctive pills into her palm, and brought it close to her face, her brow furrowed in concentration. She even crushe
How To Love A Murderer. A Birthday Winter.
Chapter Sixty-Two: A Birthday WinterThe crisp Swedish air bit at their cheeks as the men returned from the hunt, their breaths puffing out in white clouds. Ian’s laughter rang out, clear and bright, as Mr. Vinter clapped him on the back, telling some story about Zhedya’s first clumsy attempt with a rifle.From the warmth of the window, Zhedya watched. A slow, deep satisfaction settled in his chest. Seeing Ian here, in his childhood home, laughing with his family… it was the final piece of the puzzle. He had fought, lied, and bled to have this man, and now Ian was here, looking like he belonged. A soft, possessive smile touched Zhedya’s lips. Mine.Later, by the crackling fireplace, Zhedya found Ian, his fingers still cold from outside. He took Ian’s hand, lacing their fingers together.“See?” Zhedya’s voice was a low, earnest murmur. “I told you I was trying. This… being here with them, with you… it’s everything. I’d do anything to prove I’ve changed. To be the man you deserve.
How To Love A Murderer. Shattered.
Chapter Sixty One: Shattered For a heart-stopping second, Ian was frozen in the doorway. Then he rushed to the bedside, his world narrowing to the man in the bed. "Zhedya?" he whispered, his voice cracking with a desperate hope. But the hope died as quickly as it had flared. Zhedya lay perfectly still, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a slow, artificial rhythm. He looked exactly as he had for the past weeks…a beautiful, broken statue. 'Did I imagine it?' Ian's exhausted mind screamed. 'Am I finally losing it? Hearing his voice because I want to so badly?' He was so lost in his own turmoil that he completely ignored the other man in the room, who was calmly slipping an empty syringe back into his pocket. "You must be Ian." The smooth voice snapped Ian back to reality. He turned to see a man with a sharp, handsome face and a grin that didn't quite reach his cold, assessing eyes. He looked Ian up and down like he was judging a prize horse. "I'm Ryan. An old
How To Love A Murderer. Checkmate.
Chapter Sixty: Checkmate The steady, quiet beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room. It had become the soundtrack to Ian’s life for the past two weeks. He was slumped in the chair next to Zhedya’s bed, his head resting on his arms, fast asleep. His face was pale, shadows under his eyes telling the story of long, worried nights. One of his hands was stretched out, his fingers just barely brushing Zhedya’s still one, as if he could will some life back into him. A gentle tap on his shoulder made him jolt awake. "Mr. Parker? A word?" a doctor asked softly. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Ian nodded and followed him into the bright, sterile hallway. A man in a sharp suit was waiting for them…the investigator on Zhedya's case. "The investigation is conclusive, Mr. Parker," the man said, his voice grave. "Mr. Hunter's car was tampered with. The brake lines were deliberately cut. This wasn't an accident. It was an attempted murder." The world seem
How To Love A Murderer. The Stage is Set.
Chapter Fifty Nine: The Stage is Set Zhedya stood in Callista Monroe's office, his posture relaxed but his words were like carefully thrown knives. "Your methods are sloppy, Detective. You're so focused on chasing ghosts you're missing what's right in front of you." He gave a cold, dismissive smile. "Maybe if you spent less time harassing innocent people and more time doing your job, you'd have caught the Trunk Killer by now." That was the final straw. Callista slammed her hands on her desk, shooting to her feet. Her face was flushed with fury. "That's it! I'm done with you, Hunter! You're a civilian who keeps sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. You're a liability." She pointed a trembling finger at the door. "Get out! You are officially banned from my crime scenes. If I see you near one again, I'll have you arrested. Do you understand me?" A flicker of satisfaction crossed Zhedya's eyes before he masked it with a look of pure outrage. “This is a huge mistake, Mon
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