Oh my god, he filmed himself covered in blood. Did he want to be his dad or something?

Was he already?

I pushed upright. I had to get out of there. True crime wasn’t my thing, but I had a working understanding of personality disorders and knew some people with them were good at faking real emotion. Good enough that Bundy had worked alongside one of the best crime writers of our time, and she’d had no idea he was a monster. If Bundy could fool someone like her, what chance did I stand against someone like him?

For all I knew, this was nothing but a big game to Josh – I’d already learned firsthand how much he liked them – and this girlfriend/boyfriend/father-to-my-cat talk was just to butter me up and get me to trust him so I’d be all the more horrified when the real him came out to play.

My head swam as I tried to stand, sending me crashing back to the bed. Fred jumped beside me and made a chirruping noise like he was asking if I was okay.

“Aly!” someone yelled.

Right. Shit. I’d dropped my phone.

I scooped it up. “I’m here,” I told Vern. “Sorry. That just threw me.”

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Are you safe?”

I looked around, seeing the hooks in the bedframe with new eyes. Was I safe? Josh was still AWOL, so there was time to escape. I couldn’t go to my house because he’d already proven how easily he could break into it. Greg told me to stay away from the family, but right now, I couldn’t think of anywhere safer than inside the compound of a mobster. Nico probably had more weapons and security than even Josh could circumnavigate.

“Aly?” Vern said, sounding frantic.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m safe. I promise.” Or at least I would be soon. “Look, I gotta go. Thank you for telling me.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she said.

“I am. Can you please keep what you found to yourself?” My head was a mess, but one thing was clear: Vern spreading gossip that there was someone related to an infamous serial killer living in the city would send panic through the hospital and bring more attention to me than I needed right now.

“I can,” she said. “You can trust me with this because, technically, what I did counts as mishandling hospital assets, and I like my job too much to lose it.”

Thank fuck for that.

We said goodbye and hung up, and I stayed on the edge of the bed for a few minutes while I tried to get my heart rate under control. This was the dark past Josh didn’t want to tell me about, and now I understood why.

What had he said about the worst time to tell me being right after he killed someone?

I laughed, and it sounded slightly hysterical. Yeah, that timing would have been shitty, but hearing it from him then still would have been better than finding out like this.

Or maybe it was good that he wasn’t present to manipulate my response.

I cringed. That thought didn’t seem fair. Now that the initial shock of hearing the news was wearing off, I was starting to question my knee-jerk reaction. No, I didn’t know Josh that well, but…it felt like I did. Not facts like what his favorite color was or who he’d taken to prom, but who he was as a person. He was funny, sweet, and more caring than anyone I’d ever dated, and it was hard to believe he was a good enough actor to fake all that.

I wasn’t a true crime writer, but now that I thought about it, I’d probably been around more dangerous people than that woman had. She only interacted with them through highly controlled interviews, whereas I met them in the wild daily. If anything, my instincts were likely sharper than hers because she had correctional officers nearby to save her if anything went wrong, and I only had myself.

My family knew about him. So did my next-door neighbors. And Tyler knew about me. That was a lot of people for the cops to talk to if I suddenly went missing. Wouldn’t someone planning to murder me do everything in their power to keep the witnesses to a minimum?

A knock sounded from the bedroom door.

“Aly?” Tyler called. “Coffee’s done.”

It hit me then. Tyler wasn’t just Josh’s roommate; he was his best friend. He’d once told me that he and Josh had been besties since they were kids. That meant he probably knew all about Josh’s dad.

I pushed up from the bed on shaky legs, my earlier reticence about interacting with my ex disappearing. If anyone could answer my questions and give me more insight into whether or not Josh was who I hoped he was, it was Tyler.

“Woah, are you okay?” he asked as I emerged from the bedroom.

“No. I just had a bit of a shock.”

“Here, sit down,” he said, pulling one of the barstools from beneath the kitchen island.

I slumped into it, watching him pour me coffee, wondering how to breach this topic. I couldn’t think of a casual way, so I decided to dive right in. “Do you know who Josh’s dad is?”

Tyler stiffened, his back to me. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you know or not?”

He jerked his head in an abrupt nod.

“Well, I just found out about him and have some questions.”

Tyler sent me a wary look over his shoulder. “I really don’t think I’m the one who should answer them. Josh would probably be better.”

I shook my head. “I want to hear it from you.”

He frowned and turned to face me. “Why?”

Fuck, how to explain this? “Because some of my questions are harsh, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Yes, because Josh is so delicate,” he said, returning to the coffee.

I tamped down my rising annoyance. “It doesn’t matter if someone is delicate or not. You should care about their feelings either way.” Speaking of feelings, no wonder I’d never developed any for this guy. Without the lust for his body blinding me, he was more of a douche than I remembered.

He turned and set my coffee in front of me. “Whatever. Ask your questions.”

“He’s not like him, right?”

Tyler jerked like I’d slapped him. “Jesus, no. Why would you think that?”

I contemplated bringing up Josh’s social media account but thought better. Knowing Josh, not even Tyler knew about it. And I definitely couldn’t bring up Brad, but I needed clarity on something Josh said concerning his death.

“He made a comment about worrying he was fated to be a killer.”

Tyler’s expression darkened. “That fucking psychologist.”

“What?” I said, confused.

“After Josh’s dad got arrested, his mom took him to see this renowned psychologist to help heal Josh’s trauma,” Tyler said. “The doctor had just taken part in this study trying to prove that psychopathy was genetic. He was convinced he was right even though the data was slightly questionable. And there was Josh. A golden goose dropped right into his lap. Within a month, he had Josh and Maria convinced that Josh needed to be on antipsychotics for the rest of his life or he’d turn into his father.”

I leaned back in my seat, horrified. “What kind of doctor does that?”

Tyler shook his head. “He isn’t one anymore. Josh wasn’t the only kid he manipulated in an attempt to validate his study, and his victims ended up taking part in a civil suit against him. He lost his license to practice, but the damage was done. Josh only recently got off most of his meds, and if he’s still making comments like the one you mentioned, he must still be questioning that decision.”

“So, he never should have been on them?”

“No,” Tyler said. “He has some quirks, sure, but who doesn’t? The important thing is that he has none of the more troubling signs that would point to antisocial personality disorder.” He rested his elbows on the counter and met my eyes. “I knew his dad, and Josh is nothing like him. The fact that I’m still alive should be all the proof you need.” He grinned. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I can be a bit much sometimes.”

I took a sip of coffee. Yeah, I was starting to see that. “Why didn’t Josh tell me about all this sooner?”