Page 59 of Unholy Masks

“I feel like I’m responsible,” Valentina muttered. “I want to catch him.”

“I’ve seen what this man does. It’s… beyond cruel. You don’t want that in your head.”

“I already have it in my head.” She swallowed. Behind the determination, there was fear. “I’ll do it, Detective. I can’t hide. He chose me, and I’m choosing to fight.”

Detective R hesitated before he walked out. He came back with two officers.

“If that’s what you want. But no one will force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Sighing, Detective R motioned toward the officers standing by the table. “This is Officer Tiana and Officer Maxwell. They’ll follow you discreetly. There will be two patrol cars circling your place 24/7. If you see anything suspicious, you contact us immediately—no matter how small it seems. Officer Tiana will get you a watch with an emergency button. Press it, and it’ll alert all nearby units. We’ll be there.”

Valentina nodded.

“I know it’s overwhelming, but…” Ryden started.

“I know. I want to, Mr. Sinclair. He killed my friend.”

After dropping Valentina off at her place, we waited and watched until the undercover officers took their posts.

“She’ll be okay, right?” I asked, staring at the windows.

“I hate that I asked her to do this.”

“I know, but I have a feeling that we’ll stop him this time. We have to.”

When we got home, Ryden opened the back seat and grabbed two bouquets.

“Here.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

I tilted my head, watching him curiously. “Why?”

“I went to a flower shop, and this reminded me of you.”

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“The yellow one’s for Irene. You need to go talk to her.”

“What—what did she say?”

“I met her at Hot Cuppa.” He paused for a second. “With Trish.”

“And?” I asked, trying hard to let my voice show how I truly felt.

“She misses you.”

“Oh, she hates me. She’s said it enough times that I believe it now,” I said with a grunt. It felt strange, not talking with Irene, but she had wanted nothing to do with me, and perhaps she was right to ask that.

“You know that’s not true. Just talk to her. Again. And again, if that fails.”

“She told me not to. She said there’s no way we could go back. I’m too tired to fight her on that.”

I hated how certain she sounded, how easily she shut the door between us as if it had never been open in the first place.

What was even the point in fighting if she’d already made up her mind? Maybe it was easier to let it be. To leave the past where it lay instead of picking at old wounds.

Or maybe that’s the coward’s way out. And Yara West is not a coward.