Page 14 of King of Hollywood

Then he shook his head, lips pressed into a thin, serious line. “No…I…don’t suppose I would.”

I wasn’t sure he would’ve confessed that to anyone else, as it was akin to approving of murder. But his walls were down, and by helping him, I’d whittled my way inside his heart.

My blood began to sing.

I looked at Felix in a new light then. Tears and all. A man who felt bad—not because he’d killed someone, but because he didn’t feel they’d deserved it. A man after my own heart.

“I think I must be a bad person.” Felix sniffed. “I feel bad, but I also feel worse that I involved you. What if you get in trouble because of me?”

“The only way I’ll get in trouble is if you implicate me.” I said it to be soothing, but Felix was not soothed.

“I would never,” his voice shook with vehemence, his tiny body quaking. I pulled him in by the grip on his face, unsure why I did it—only that I wanted the shaking to stop.

He was so little, his solid frame oddly chilly as I curled my bulk around him. Awkwardly, but earnestly, I gave his back a gentle pat.

“I would never, ever do that to you,” Felix trembled.

“Thank you.” Pat, pat. “I appreciate that.”

“You’re a good guy, Marshall.” Felix sniffed, getting his awful sadness juice all over my nice work suit.

I felt…bad.

Huh.

I felt bad.

Because this entire time I’d only been thinking about how entertaining this would be. Not once had it ever occurred to me that Felix might be devastated. That he might feel frightened—or alone.

He needs me.

Yes.

He did.

Curling tighter around him, I squeezed. His tears seeped cold and wet onto my shirt, his little body quaking. I inhaled the sugary lemony scent of his shampoo for the first time—and immediately melted. God, his hair was soft. I couldn’t help but rub my face in it as I held him.

He smells so good.

I’d never held someone before.

Not like this.

Not to comfort them.

“Thank you,” Felix said, curling his fingers in my shirt and further ruining it, this time with wrinkles. “I’m so s-sorry I dragged you into this. I just didn’t know what to do. I’ve never—I mean. It was an accident. I got overzealous.”

“It’s fine.” Pat, pat, pat.

I sniffed his hair some more, still nuzzling the silky soft strands.

One thing became certain as I benefited from our embrace, and Felix continued to leak all over me.

And that was the fact that Felix was wrong. I wasn’t a “good guy.” I wasn’t even good-guy-adjacent. If he knew just how often I’d killed, he’d surely feel less guilty about involving me. He wouldn’t feel like he was corrupting me.

But I didn’t tell him.

I didn’t tell him, because I was a no good, selfish, very bad man.