Page 3 of King of Hollywood

Okay. Maybe I was. A bit.

But it was only because I didn’t understand it. I hated being touched by people. Hated talking to them. Hated strangers. Hated sticky, sweaty, messy things. The idea of willingly inviting someone I didn’t know into my bed was abhorrent. What if their shampoo stank? They’d ruin my carefully cultivated ecosystem.

Oh god.

No thank you.

I assumed Felix’s barrage of questions was due to his nerves, so I didn’t fault him for them. Even though they were annoying. And so was he.

“You have very nice biceps,” Felix complimented me, obviously trying to move on but unable to help himself. He then promptly almost ran into another tree branch. Without thinking, I lifted that one too. This time, against all odds, he noticed what I’d done. Felix flashed me a grateful, embarrassed smile. “Thank you. Almost walked right into that one.”

I grunted in response.

Felix had peculiar teeth. They were one of his more recognizable traits. Dark eyebrows. Dark expressive eyes—though right now they looked oddly…red. Pale hair that was obviously dyed. Pointy teeth. They were slightly crooked, and it was…charming. Maybe. At least, I’d think so if I was a lesser man. A man that was even remotely interested in other people’s teeth, or crooked grins, or crinkly little scrunched-up freckle-covered noses.

But I wasn’t.

I wasn’t.

My heart did a weird thing in my chest that immediately filled me with anxiety as we finally broke through the tree line and began walking across the manicured lawn. Luckily, the crematory was located at the edge of town. There was very little traffic even during daylight. At night, it was a ghost town. The woods blocked us from view of the single winding road as we crept across the night-dark grass, fireflies flitting around our feet.

“Are you sure we won’t get caught?” Felix asked again, that sweet pointy smile anxious. I readjusted the body on my shoulder so I would have something to do other than reach out and tuck the stray lock of unkempt blond hair away from his face.

He had his usual ridiculous bucket hat on. Wide-brimmed and black. There was no sun to block, so I didn’t understand his need for it. If he was trying to be inconspicuous, he was failing.

“Yes, Finley, we’re fine. It’s fine.” Sucking in a fortifying breath, I exuded as much confidence as I could muster. Because we were fine. Of course we were. I would take care of everything.

Comfort was not something I was very adept at offering, but I tried now, because he very obviously needed it. “Now be quiet, please?” Felix nodded. “I’d leave you out here but I don’t trust you not to confess to the first person you see.”

It was after midnight, no one was out, but I wasn’t quite ready to admit I didn’t want him apart from me just yet.

“I don’t do well alone,” Felix was quaking a little. Minute shivers trembled through his petite but muscular frame. For such a small man, he sure had broad shoulders. This wasn’t the first time I’d noticed, but it was the first time I allowed myself to acknowledge that I was noticing.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, my voice still far softer than I was comfortable with, I agreed, “Good thing I’m not leaving you alone then.”

Felix’s smile returned. His eyes were bright as we reached the back door and Allen pushed it open for us. He was a grizzled man, in his sixties probably. In the ten years I’d known him, he hadn’t seemed to age a day. His salt-and-pepper-colored beard twinkled from the light that spilled onto the lawn.

“He joinin’ The Club?” Allen asked, gaze flickering over tiny Felix and his ridiculously big hat. At some point, when I’d been distracted by Allen opening the door, Felix had popped on a pair of Gucci sunglasses.

He was not very covert.

I wasn’t certain we wanted him in The Club, after all. We didn’t really have a choice though.

“I suppose,” I gritted my teeth.

“Well, alright then.” Allen eyed the body, then me, then Felix, his eyebrows shooting up. If I’d been less distracted by the body on my shoulder, I probably would’ve noticed the look Allen and Felix exchanged. But I did not. And as we stepped inside the sanctuary of my favorite building in town, I didn’t allow myself to think of Felix Finley’s lovely little smile.

Not once.

Not at all.

Not even a little.

Chapter two

Unfortunately, because—fuck my life—by the time we finished dealing with the body it was too late at night to properly interrogate Felix. So, instead of gathering all the juicy murder details, I drove him home with explicit instructions to shower and clean under his nails.

He was wearing one of the backup shirts I kept in my trunk, as we’d taken the opportunity at the crematory to burn our clothing. I’d been nothing but level-headed. I’d known what to do every step of the way. Shown no remorse. And yet, Felix still looked at me like I was an angel and not a man who had killed enough people he knew how to properly clean up afterward.