Page 60 of The Arbiter
I watch her finally step out of the apartment building as I switch my focus to the street-level cameras, tracking the black sedan as it pulls up to the curb.
My irritation with Lucy lingers, a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. She’s a complication I didn't plan for, a bug that needs to be squashed, but for now, she's just a nuisance that I'll deal with later.
I lean back, adjusting my headset. The audio from the precinct is already humming in my other ear, the sound of phones ringing, the mumble of officers, and the heavy footsteps of Detective Miller.
"Showtime, baby," I whisper, watching her disappear into the back of the sedan.
CHAPTER 13 - Madeline
I’m sitting in an unknown car with a stranger behind the wheel. In my ear, I’m listening to a literal serial killer and a stalker, who is, for some fucked-up reason, utterly obsessed with me. Giving me instructions on how to defend him and myself against a detective.
It’s a goddamn tragedy. I’m standing on the edge of being convicted for the murder of my abusive, stalking ex-boyfriend, and as if that wasn’t enough, my best friend is calling me like a maniac to warn me about “The Arbiter.”
The same man who is now helping me lie my way out of this.
How did it all get so complicated? Right… Deimos. My own psychotic shadow, following my every step and breath until he ruins me completely.
The driver radiates the same dark energy Deimos possesses; most likely one of his men. My head is ringing, my thoughts spinning through the worst possible scenarios. My palms are sweating as if I actually had murdered someone.
The worst part is... I’m actually going to defend him. I tell myself that I’m doing this for Lucy, to ensure he doesn't hurt her or retaliate if I betray him. But deep down, I know that’s not the whole truth. There’s more to it, a truth I’m still too afraid to name.
I need to calm down before I say something stupid. I’m used to acting cold and professional; it's the bedrock of my career. I’m supposed to help the justice system catch killers, not protect the most dangerous one in the city. God, I fear I don’t have a single rational explanation for my actions anymore.
DEIMOS:“Almost there, Mali. Walk in there like you own the place. Professional pathologist. Beautiful, smart woman. I believe in you.”
His voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts immediately. It feels like he’s inside my brain now. There was a note in his voice, something almost vulnerable.
I know he isn't afraid of being caught; he’s too intelligent for that. He’s testing my loyalty. And, in his own twisted way, he’s protecting me from a life behind bars for a murder he committed. In his obsessed mind, this probably feels romantic. To me, it feels like a slow descent into hell. I’m disgusted with myself for letting it go this far. For letting him in.
The car stops in front of the precinct. A massive, gray building. Normally, this place doesn't give me the creeps, the mortuary is far more intimidating, but today is different. I can either walk out of here as an innocent woman, or as a betrayed ex-girlfriend who finally snapped and tortured the man who once hurt her.
My pulse is erratic, but suddenly, something in me snaps. Anger. The suffocating anxiety is replaced by a cold, sharp fury. I am Madeline Emerson, and I am going to clear my name. My demeanor changes instantly. I pull on my confidence like a second skin, radiating power.
I’ll get this right. I’ll walk in there like the victim of a horrendous setup, outraged that anyone would dare implicate me in such a crime.
I open the heavy glass doors and step inside. My heels click rhythmically against the tiles, a sound that usually grounds me, but today it feels like a countdown.
I know most of the faces here; it’s not unusual for me to walk through these halls. I’m constantly sending autopsy reports, cause-of-death certificates, and stacks of paperwork to help them close cases. But today, the familiar environment feels hostile.
Detective Miller, the man who called me here... I haven’t met him yet. He’s most likely a new transfer. And as I scan the room, I spot him immediately.
He’s already walking towards me, and the look he’s giving me is pure iron. He looks serious, deadly serious. This isn’t going to be the easy, professional chat I’m used to. Fuck it.
“Madeline Emerson?”
He calls out. His tone is cold, though he extends his hand with a mask of politeness.
I shake it firmly, forcing a small, composed smile to my lips.
“Good afternoon, Detective Miller.”
“Follow me,” he says, not wasting a second on small talk.
He leads me into a small, windowless interrogation room. It’s exactly what you’d expect: a heavy white table in the center and two chairs facing each other like combatants.
As I take my seat, a sudden burst of static crackles in my ear, followed by Deimos’s voice. I flinch slightly, the sound of him so close to my brain making my skin crawl.
DEIMOS:“Now, everything he asks, you repeat the words after me. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
