Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 123: Stay Close To Me! 2

Liam moved through the darkness, his footsteps completely silent.

The warehouse loomed ahead of him, a massive structure with rusted metal walls and broken windows.

The door was half-closed, hanging off its hinges at an angle that suggested it had been forced open recently.

Liam approached it carefully, his eyes scanning the area around him.

No movement. No sounds except for the distant wail of sirens growing closer.

He slipped through the gap in the door, his body turning sideways to fit through the narrow opening.

Inside, the warehouse was dark.

The only light came from a few overhead bulbs that flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the concrete floor.

Liam stopped just inside the entrance, his body tense.

He remembered what Shay had taught him. Stay alert. Watch every angle. Be ready for any attack.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light slowly.

And then he saw them.

Bodies.

Everywhere.

At least a dozen of them, scattered across the warehouse floor in pools of blood.

Some were face-down. Others were on their sides or backs, their eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

The metallic smell of blood was overwhelming. It hung in the air like a fog, thick and suffocating.

Liam’s stomach churned.

’Jesus!’

He stepped forward carefully, his eyes moving from body to body.

All of them had the same thing. Clean cuts. Precise slashes across throats or chests. No struggle. No defensive wounds.

Whoever did this was fast. Efficient.

’Why would anyone just kill everyone like this? Just... everyone. No reason. No mercy.’

Liam’s eyes swept across the warehouse, taking in every detail.

The overturned crates.

The scattered weapons on the floor—guns, knives, brass knuckles. None of them fired or used.

They didn’t even have time to defend themselves.

Then Liam heard it.

A faint sound. Barely audible.

Breathing.

Ragged, wet breathing.

Liam’s head snapped toward the sound.

There, near the back of the warehouse, propped up against a metal support beam, was a man.

Liam recognized him immediately.

Hawk.

The guy with the red mohawk. The one who’d shown up at the training lot with Mark. The one who’d called Liam’s group an embarrassment.

Liam moved toward him quickly, his silent footsteps carrying him across the warehouse floor.

Hawk’s head lolled to the side as Liam approached. His eyes were half-closed, his face pale and slick with sweat. Blood soaked through his leather jacket, spreading across his chest and stomach.

Liam knelt beside him. "Hey. Stay with me."

Hawk’s eyes opened slightly, focusing on Liam with effort. "You..."

"Yeah, it’s me," Liam said. "You’re lucky you’re still alive. The cops are here. More are coming. Just hold on."

Hawk let out a wet laugh that turned into a cough. Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. "Lucky? You call this lucky?"

He lifted one trembling hand and pulled his jacket aside, revealing the wound beneath.

Liam’s breath caught.

There was a deep gash running across Hawk’s abdomen, the edges clean but the damage severe. Blood pulsed out with each labored breath Hawk took.

"He got me good," Hawk said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Didn’t even see him coming."

Liam’s jaw tightened. "The killer. He did this?"

"Yeah." Hawk coughed again, more blood spilling from his lips. "Shay was right, I’m a dumbass... I thought we could handle him. With enough guys, you know? Safety in numbers and all that bullshit."

He let out another laugh, this one weaker. "But he just kept moving through us like we were nothing. Like we were fucking paper targets."

Liam looked around at the bodies again, his stomach twisting.

"The killer is still around... This isn’t your fight, kid," Hawk said, his voice dropping. "Get out of here."

Liam looked back at him. "I—"

"I mean it," Hawk interrupted, his eyes locking onto Liam’s. "You don’t need to be here."

But something about the scene didn’t sit right with Liam. The bodies. The blood. The way they’d all been slaughtered without a chance.

Killing indiscriminately like this. Just cutting people down. No reason. No mercy.

It made his chest tighten.

’Maybe Hawk’s right. Maybe this isn’t my fight. But... I can’t just walk away from this.’

"Get out now, kid," Hawk said, his voice getting weaker. "Before he comes back to finish you too."

Liam opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Hawk’s breathing changed.

It became shallower. Shorter.

Then it stopped.

Hawk’s eyes went blank. His head tilted back against the beam. His hand fell from his stomach, landing limply at his side.

Liam stared at him for a moment, frozen.

Then he stood slowly, his hands clenching into fists.

’The killer is still here.’

Liam’s eyes moved to the entrance he’d come through, then to the other side of the warehouse where another doorway led deeper into the building.

’Grace.’

---

Grace moved along the side of the building, her gun raised and ready.

The main warehouse entrance was ahead, large and obvious.

’Aaaahhhhhh!"

A yell. Faint but distinct. Coming from the side of the building.

Grace’s head turned sharply toward the sound. It hadn’t come from the main entrance. It came from somewhere else.

’Someone’s still alive in there.’

She spotted a side door hanging open in the direction of the sound and changed course immediately, moving toward it instead of the main entrance.

Her boots crunched softly against gravel as she approached, each step deliberate and careful.

She pushed the door open with her shoulder, sweeping the interior with her gun.

Empty hallway. Concrete walls. Flickering overhead lights that buzzed faintly.

She moved forward carefully, her finger hovering near the trigger.

The hallway smelled like mildew and rust. Water stains ran down the walls in dark streaks.

Then she heard it.

A groan.

Grace’s head snapped toward the sound. She moved quickly down the hallway, her boots echoing softly against the concrete.

At the end of the hall, slumped against the wall, was Mark.

Grace’s breath caught. "Mark!"

She ran to him, dropping to one knee beside him.

Mark’s face was bruised, his lip split and bleeding. His shirt was torn, and there was a gash across his shoulder that was still bleeding, the fabric around it soaked dark red. He looked up at her with glazed eyes.

"Grace," he rasped. "Help... help me."

Grace’s hands moved to his shoulder, pressing gently to assess the damage. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Mark winced, his teeth gritting. "Is that really important right now?"

Grace blinked, then shook her head quickly. "You’re right. I’m sorry. Can you stand?" 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"I think so."

Grace slid her arm under his good shoulder and helped him to his feet. Mark groaned, his weight sagging against her. His body was heavy, and she could feel him trembling.

"Lean on me," Grace said. "We’re getting out of here."

They started moving slowly down the hallway, Mark limping heavily. His boots scraped against the floor with each step.

Grace’s mind was racing. ’Where’s Liam? Is he okay? Please let him be okay.’

"I hope Liam is safe," she muttered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Mark’s head snapped toward her, his eyes widening. "Wait. What? You mean that gang leader is here?"

Grace nodded. "Yeah. He came with me."

Mark stopped moving, forcing Grace to stop too. "What the hell is he doing here? Grace, why would you bring a civilian to an active crime scene?"

"He’s not just a civilian," Grace said, her voice defensive. "And I didn’t have a choice. He insisted on coming."

"You didn’t have a choice?" Mark’s voice rose. "You’re a cop, Grace. You could’ve told him no."

"I tried," Grace said. "He was going to follow me anyway. At least this way I can keep an eye on him."

Mark’s jaw clenched. "So what, you just let him tag along? Where is he now?"

"I don’t know," Grace admitted, her voice tight. "We got separated."

Mark stared at her for a moment, his expression hard. Then his eyes narrowed. "Wait. How did he even know about this? How did he know to come with you?"

Grace’s face flushed slightly. "He was at my place when I got the text."

Mark stopped walking again. He turned to look at her fully, his eyes searching her face. "He was at your place?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Grace hesitated. "He was helping me with my back pain."

Mark’s eyes narrowed further. "Your back pain."

"Yeah."

Mark’s jaw clenched again, and he gripped it with his free hand like he was physically holding back what he wanted to say. His knuckles went white.

"Right," he said finally, his voice tight. "Your back pain."

They started moving again, the silence between them heavy and uncomfortable.

Grace could feel Mark’s eyes on her, could feel the tension radiating off him.

Then she saw it.

A shadow. Moving along the far wall at the end of the hallway.

Grace stopped. "Mark. Is the killer still around?"

Mark’s face went pale. His grip on her shoulder tightened. "He left. At least, I thought he did. He was about to finish me off before you came in. But... I’m not sure if he’s still here."

Grace’s eyes stayed locked on the shadow. She pulled away from Mark carefully, letting him lean against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Mark asked, his voice rising slightly.

Grace raised her gun, moving forward slowly. Her finger slid onto the trigger. "Making sure he doesn’t attack us while we’re trying to leave."

"Are you crazy?" Mark hissed. "You can’t handle him. Grace, let’s just get out of here. Now."

Grace didn’t lower her gun. Her eyes stayed locked on the shadow. "Do you think he’ll just let us walk out of here if we try?"

Mark was quiet for a moment. Then he let out a breath. "Okay. Fair point."

Then a grin crossed his face.

Grace glanced back at him, confused. "What are you—"

"Hey!" Mark yelled suddenly, his voice echoing through the hallway. "Killer! If you don’t know, we’re cops! Detective Mark Reeves and Officer Grace Kim! I was undercover trying to catch you!"

Grace’s eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"Bargaining," Mark said, his grin widening.

Grace stared at him. "Bargaining? What does that even mean?"

A voice echoed from the shadows. Deep. Calm. Almost amused.

"How does that concern me?"

The voice sent a chill down Grace’s spine. It was cold. Detached. Like the speaker didn’t care about anything.

Mark straightened up slightly, his voice louder now. "Because you’ve been killing thugs this whole time, right? Gang members. Criminals. We’re not thugs. We’re cops. Different rules."

The voice laughed. Low and cold. "Different rules. Interesting."

"And you already killed everyone here," Mark continued. "Except for one."

The voice went quiet for a moment.

Then it spoke again, slower this time. "Impossible. I made sure they were all dead. Every single one. Except for the boss, but I heard the sirens and had to leave before I could finish him to come finish you. And judging by the wound I gave him, he won’t survive much longer anyway."

Mark’s grin didn’t fade. "You missed one. And he’s not just anyone. He’s a leader of another gang."

Grace turned to him sharply, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Are you stupid? What are you trying to do? You’re putting Liam in danger!"

Mark ignored her, his eyes fixed on the shadows. "Think about it. What are three more kills when you can beat up a gang leader so badly he calls his whole crew for backup? You could have as much fun as you were having killing all of them. Maybe even more."

It was quiet for a moment.

Grace’s heart was pounding. "What the hell are you doing? You’re going to get Liam killed you piece of shit."

Then the voice spoke again. "You’re clever. I’ll give you that."

Mark’s grin widened. "So you accept?"

The voice continued, and the amusement was gone now. "But if she’s here, that means more cops are on their way. You’re trying to stall until they arrive. And that’s pissing me off."

Grace raised her gun higher, her hands steady despite the fear coursing through her. "Don’t—"

"So here’s what’s going to happen," the voice said. "I’m going to kill you both right now. And then I’ll find him later and kill him too."

The voice paused, then continued with something darker in its tone. "You ran while the others chose to fight. You’re a coward. And now you’re trying to sell someone else’s life for your own."

There was a cold laugh. "As much as I respect that, I hate a coward even more. That’s why those who choose to fight me get branded with an X. It’s a form of respect. But you? You don’t deserve that. But I can’t say the same about her. So she dies first."

Something moved in the shadows.

A flash of silver.

A knife flew through the air, spinning end over end.

Grace didn’t have time to react.

The knife hit.

Blood splattered across the floor.