The Endless Road to Sunshine - Nicky James Page 0,103

stalled halfway up the second flight of stairs. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s the killer’s husband. I saw him in the newspaper. He denies it, but I know. I know everything about that case. Fucking fascinating as shit, isn’t it? I watch all those crime shows too. Man, how fucking cool would it be to know a serial killer personally.”

Disgust must have crossed my face because the guy held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“No offense, man.”

“It’s not cool at all.” And Jason must have been pissed that someone had figured out his true identity.

“Are you with him? I mean, like together like that? He’s obviously gay, and you…” He spared a glance up and down my body. “You’ve got that look too.”

I frowned. “I look gay?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t judge.”

“You know, I don’t think my sexuality is any of your business.” I climbed faster, trying to get ahead.

The man clomped after me without missing a beat. “I read his husband killed all those people because he was a cheater.”

“He’s not a cheater.”

“That’s what I read.”

“No, it isn’t. You’re embellishing the truth, and you shouldn’t talk about shit you don’t understand.”

At the fourth floor, I yanked open the door and launched into the hall, aiming for Jason’s apartment.

The stranger caught the door behind me and called out. “I didn’t mean to piss you off, man. I’m just saying what I read. Be careful. All the guys who fucked around with him ended up dead. That’s what I’m telling you. You could be next.”

“The guy’s in prison, you freak. How about you fuck off and mind your own business instead of stirring up shit you know nothing about.” I was rarely rattled, but this stranger, whoever he was, had gotten under my skin.

I waited. The man shrugged and let the door fall shut, then I watched through the window as the prick descended the stairs. He hadn’t even needed to come up this far.

Once he was gone and I’d found my inner balance again, I rapped on Jason’s door.

When he answered, it was with an air of confusion.

“Someone let me in,” I explained, but I left it at that, not wanting to upset him by sharing about the jerk in the hall.

Jason nodded and stepped back, a silent invitation for me to come in. His expression was cast from stone, keeping any and all emotion from his face. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. His body was tight, like his muscles were coiled to their limits and would snap at any moment if he wasn’t careful. Despite the lighthearted text he’d sent, I deduced that Jason’s weekend hadn’t gone well.

I kicked off my shoes and moved into his apartment. Jason retreated to the kitchen and came back with two beers.

I took the offered beer but didn’t open it. He tried to walk away again, but I caught his arm, tugging him back around to face me. “Did he sign the papers?”

“No.” The single word was cut from glass.

My heart sank with the pain radiating from Jason’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged and broke away from me, pacing in a circle once like he didn’t know where to put himself before retreating to the kitchen.

I set my beer aside on the coffee table and followed. Jason had put his beer aside too and was leaned over, arms braced on the counter, head dangling between them. His back was to me, but the lines of tension running through his whole body were on display, and he vibrated.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head but otherwise didn’t move. Each breath he took was labored. Time stretched between us, and I wasn’t sure if I should leave him alone or take him by the hand into the bedroom. That was why he’d messaged me, right? He was obviously wound so tight he was about to explode. He’d texted me. He wanted a distraction. That was what this was for him, wasn’t it? A distraction?

I didn’t know anymore.

“Do you know, my own parents don’t believe I wasn’t involved.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged through gravel. It was shredded and so broken it hurt to hear. “When Morgan was arrested, I spent days being interviewed. Days. The cops were sure I was in on it too. Then, they cleared me. After, I spent months being torn apart by the press. Protesters smeared my name and called me things you can’t even imagine. My parents didn’t believe there