Page 73 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"Who the fuck voluntarily eats this stuff?"

Nobody answered. Probably for the best. The bakery section was worse. Gluten-free bread. Cauliflower pizza crust. Vegan cheese. I stared at the shelf and grimaced.

"That can't be fucking legal."

An elderly woman reaching for oat milk looked at me over the rim of her glasses. "I heard that."

"I wasn't exactly whispering."

She huffed and pushed her trolley away. I smiled to myself before continuing toward the coffee aisle.

Now... this was more like it. Dark roast. Medium roast. Whole bean. Ground. French roast. Hazelnuts. The familiar scent of roasted coffee drifted through the aisle, rich and warm enough to make the entire store feel less sterile.

For some reason... my mind wandered not to the coffee. To her.

Seraphina.

She'd stood in my kitchen earlier this week as though she'd lived there for years, talking enough for both of us while somehow making the silence feel... comfortable. The faint scent of vanilla and rose lingered in my memory, mixed with fresh coffee and the crisp morning air she'd carried in from outside.

She smiled a lot, talked too much and asked too many questions but somehow... I hadn't minded. At all. In fact, it was becoming a dangerous habit, the way my thoughts kept drifting back to her the moment my hands were empty.

I picked up a bag of dark roast without really looking at the label. The corner of my mouth twitched.

"You're losing it, Reed."

A shoulder slammed into mine. The coffee nearly slipped from my hand.

"Sorry, man."

I looked up. Deputy Collins.

He shoved both hands into the pockets of his jacket, wearing the same smug grin that usually meant he was about to say something I didn't care to hear. Collins was one of those local boys who thought a uniform meant he owned the county lines. He’d been an arrogant prick since I got here, and getting hired by Sheriff Walker hadn't done anything to curb his vanity. Collins was just his irritating little shadow.

"Damn," Collins chuckled, breaking the silence. "Thought you'd packed up and left town already."

I stared at him. Cold and hard I let the silence stretch between us, heavy and unyielding, until his grin began to look a little brittle at the edges.

He laughed awkwardly, shifting his weight under my gaze. "You know..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...Missing people don't exactly have a habit of turning up around here."

The Fuck Did Just Idiot Say. Silence. The smile completely slipped from his face as he finally felt the dangerous shift in the vibe.

"...Right," he cleared his throat, his posture stiffening. "I'll... uh... catch you later."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and disappeared around the next aisle. I watched him go, the irritation thrumming through my veins.

"Little fucker."

I tossed the coffee into my basket and kept walking, heading toward the pharmacy section to grab some basic supplies. My boots dragged against the floor flooring as I rounded the corner, and my eyes dropped to an end-cap display.

Condoms. Three different varieties in bright boxes.

I froze. For a moment, my mind didn't just wander; it plunged headfirst off a fucking cliff.

I thought of Seraphina not the casual way she looked sitting at my kitchen table, but the way she’d look twisted up in my sheets. The mental image hit me like a physical punch to the gut, her pale skin flushed, her breath hitching as my hands gently pinned her wrists against the mattress. I imagined the weight of my body sinking into hers, the intense heat of her skin, and the small, desperate sound she’d make if I leaned down and bit the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder.

A sharp, tight ache flared in my groin. My throat went completely dry. I closed my eyes, took a slow, grounding breath through my nose, and violently shook my head to clear the heat from my skull. Get a fucking grip, Reed. She was too fucking young for me, she was tied to a mess of a fucking town, and I was behaving like a teenager with too much time on his hands. I walked straight past the display without looking back, paid for my items and headed for the door, every step calm and deliberate.

Before heading home, I needed to get more clothes. My rotation of work shirts was down to nothing, and my favourite heavy jersey, the dark charcoal grey wool one from my academy days was completely missing. I drove the truck three blocks down to the dry goods store.