The Skull Man: Part 4

DANTE

Nine lives. All ended by her cold hands. Find her and she'll lead you to me. Choose not to and you'll suffer the same fate as her.

The letter was sent to him while he was still in prison a year ago, and signed by the Skull Man himself. He'd been cocky enough to use his own handwriting instead of typing it up on a computer and printing it out, like a normal and smarter person would. But he knew he was baiting him. He was a madman playing a sick game.

Dante was going to make sure he won this time.

He placed the piece of paper carefully into the folder along with the rest of the information he had on all the murders. Trevor had advised him to let go of his obsession with finding out who the Skull Man really was, warning him to let the police handle it. He'd think differently if Dante had shown him the letter the Skull Man had sent to him. But his gut was telling him to keep all of this under wraps until he had more to go on.

"Here are the files you asked for, Mr. Jones," Lena announced as she placed the file on top of his desk and studied him carefully. He'd seen that worried look on her face before. She wore it often around him and it reminded him of his mother. Kim Jones was the epitome of the maternal figure, down to the tee. She had packed his lunches as a kid, washed his clothes a pre-pubescent teen, and helped him with finals during high school. She even spent some weekends tutoring him during her jail visits so he wouldn't fall behind on his school work and was able to obtain his G.E.D. in time. His father had told him she wanted to quit her job at the hospital, just so she’d be able to visit him more often. Dante had put his foot down at the news. He threatened to take her off the visitor's list if she planned on following through with her decision. Fortunately, she had listened and although she wasn't able to visit him as often as he wanted her to, he didn't want her stop her life for him. Just because he was stuck in jail didn't mean she had to be as well.

"Do you have any kids, Lena?" Dante asked the young assistant, and she nodded in response.

"An exhausting seven-year-old boy," she replied, smirking as she looked away. Dante had guessed as much. He'd only focused on her credentials before he hired her rather than her personal life. He needed to have the right people around him, people who could handle themselves in case they found themselves at the mercy of the maniac who ruined his life. Now that he knew Lena was a mother, he wanted to give her the opportunity to walk away, to chose a more peaceful life than the chaos-ridden nightmare he would no doubt drag her into.

"You know who I am. You know the reputation I have in this town," he began, offering her the vacant seat in front of his desk. Once she took it, she relaxed into it and held his gaze steadily.

"I do, Mr. Jones."

"So, why haven't you left?" Dante finished and held his breath as he waited for her answer. He was used to people treating him like the dirt they stepped on every day, the cruel monster who had no mercy, the boyfriend who terrorized his high school girlfriend and murdered her entire family. He wanted no part in playing any of those roles, but the Skull Man made sure it would be all people would remember him by.

"Because I used to be married to a monster. I know what evil looks like and you, Mr. Jones, don't have a malicious bone in your body," Lena explained, ultimately surprising him with her words.

"What happened to that monster you were married to? He wasn't mentioned in your file."

"Enjoying the afterlife I sent him to I suppose. He was introduced to my rage one morning when he decided to beat me in front our son. Let's just say, the frying pan won that battle and I've been a widow ever since then," she added with the most pride-filled smile he'd ever seen on the woman, again impressing him to the point of astonishment.

"Your son is lucky to have such a bad ass as a mother," Dante complimented her and she beamed at him.

"That's the thing about mothers, Mr. Jones. We'll turn into the devil himself just to protect our children," Lena claimed as she stood up and fixed her skirt. "By the way, this came in the mail for you this morning," she said as she opened the file she had placed on his desk earlier and passed him the white envelope sitting on top of the neatly organized stack of papers.

"No returning address?" he pondered out loud as he opened the envelope and unfolded the thick packet. He used his fast reading abilities to briefly scan for the gist of the words in front him and he cursed when he was done.

"What is it?" Lena asked as her worried expression returned and he blew out a sigh of frustration.

"Hazel Nash has lifted the restraining order against me," Dante disclosed as the image of her face popped into his mind, damning him for the second time in just forty-eight hours.

"I'm guessing that's not a good thing."

"It's not," he replied sharply, as he removed himself from his desk then stormed out of the den.

"I'll have Bobby bring the car around," Lena mentioned as she pulled her phone out and dialed the driver's number. Bobby Finland had worked for his family for years. There wasn't anyone else in the world his parents trusted more than him and when Dante had reached out to him, pleading for him to come out of retirement, Bobby couldn't resist. He'd been the closest thing he had to a grandson since he never got to know his own.

"No, it's okay. I'm just going for a walk. Don't wait up for me," he stressed as he put on his leather jacket, which hung right by the door and he reached to open it.

"Don't you go on bothering that poor girl, Dante. She's been through enough," Lena shouted and Dante couldn't help but chuckle at her statement as he hopped his own secured gate and began walking down the road leading straight into town. Yes, what happened to Hazel had been terrible. But she wasn't the only person in this town who'd lost everything.

And look at her now, with her successful business, brand new house, and boyfriend to top it all off. What did he have besides his obsession with the truth? He had money. He had a place to sleep at night, a warm meal to keep him going.

None of it would replace the life he had pictured for himself before it all went straight to Hell.

Before he knew it, Dante had ended up at Nash Cafe onMain Street, Hazel's coffee shop and bookstore an hour later. He'd be proud of her if he didn't still hate her with everything he had left in him.

"Dante Jones, I was wondering when you would show up." The female's tight tone of voice caught his attention and he turned to see who it belonged to. The five-foot-seven, high-strung woman didn't need an introduction. She wore confidence the same way she wore her dark hair, loose with a touch of unpredictable waves and the shine to capture any man's attention.

"Do I know you?" Dante asked the attractive but pretentious woman in front of him. She smiled in response and shook her head as she studied his expression.

"You don't look much like a killer. Hi, I'm Elle Dubois," she stated as she finally gave him her name and her hand for him to shake, curiosity dancing in her dark brown eyes. He'd heard Hazel say her name last night at the bar, while he was listening in on her conversation with her boyfriend in the booth in front of them. She'd just finished having a panic attack and the part of him who still cared about her wanted to make sure she was alright. It was a stupid move considering he still had to obey the restrictions of the restraining order she had yet to lift at the time.

"Straight shooter, huh?" he observed as he shook her hand and released it when her mischievous smile returned.

"Among other things. Would you like a tour of the place? Or are you just here for the smoking hot owner of this establishment?" Elle inquired with a grin so wide, it made him think twice about her intention.

"Just coffee. I haven't had any in a while," he mentioned as he watched her carefully. This woman... there was something off about her. Then again, there weren't many people he trusted to begin with, so it might just be his trust issues clouding his judgement.

"Then you've come to the right place. She makes this signature mocha cappuccino that has people lining up here every morning. Some secret ingredient she adds that makes the addiction hard to break. I swear by it," Elle rambled on as she escorted him into the coffee shop but the scents of coffee beans and old books dragged him back into nostalgia. Everywhere he looked, he saw her. From the old-school library bookshelves, to the cherry wood colored floors.

He felt sick at the sight of her behind the counter. In a bad way, and a very hard and painful way. Dante stood frozen in place as he observed every move she made. The sway of her messy ponytail as she barely kept up with the orders, how she crinkled her nose when she got the order wrong, and how her eyes lit up when she got them right.

Last night had left him a bit shell-shocked. He hadn't been prepared to see the woman she had turned into, much less the man who she'd chosen to build a life with. He envied both of them and the comfortable routine they shared so freely, and that conclusion made him feel worse.

"You okay there, big man? You don't look so well," Elle claimed as she tried to regain his attention.

"I shouldn't be here," Dante mumbled underneath his breath, as he turned to make his quick exit.

"Dante?" His name still felt like the strongest shot of whiskey coming from her lips, potent with intention and sweet with execution. He didn't realized how easily he could recognize her voice anywhere until now, which only gave him another reason to head back home and forget he ever came here.

He was halfway down the street when she caught up to him and caused him to step back, away from her and everything she still represented to him.

"That was rude, you know? Not saying hello. Not saying anything," Hazel affirmed as she caught her breath and shoved her hands into her apron pockets. He found it oddly attractive that she worked just as hard as her employees did, right beside them, never hovering over them like an obnoxious boss waiting for them to make a mistake so she could take her stress out on them. She was still as humble as he remembered.

Fuck. She still looked just as hot as she had last night, even in her barista uniform. Now his dick was hard again and he immediately regretted not taking the car like Lena suggested before he left.

"What could you possibly have to say to the guy who allegedly killed your family?" he asked, using his anger to deflect from the conflicting emotions he was having trouble sorting through. He wanted his hatred for her to stick around, to help him stay away from her. Now that she had lifted that restraining order against him, he didn't have that excuse anymore. He'd end up around her sooner or later, sooner than later, like a masochistic moth to a blazing fire.

"That I believe you didn't do it. That I want to help you find out who killed your parents. And that I'm terribly sorry for abandoning you," Hazel answered, confusing him with her sincerity as she bit her trembling bottom lip. Where had it been when he needed it the most?

"How do you know my parents weren't murdered by that psychopath?" he asked her, stepping closer to her as his suspicions clouded his thoughts. Did she know who really killed his parents or was this some kind of ploy to make him fall into her trap again?

"He uses an ice pick to break the skin first. The medical examiner I spoke to told me the cut was made by a kitchen knife, not the glass from the broken windshield. It was sloppy, unorganized. The Skull Man's work was always clean and precise. He took his time," she described excitedly and an eerie feeling surrounded him as she looked up at him with her burning brown eyes filled with hope.

"Are you sure you want to go down this road? What if we don't get the answers we're looking for?"

"He took everything from us, Dante. I won't allow him to keep the truth, too."

Dante used one of the empty computer stations Hazel had installed in her shop while he waited for her to finish closing down the place for the night. He caught up on current events plaguing the streets using the internet, tainted political agendas of the past presidential elections and the pop culture scene that involved screenshots of hilarious facial expressions along with humorous captions that made the laughter erupt from his chest.

"How long has it been since you've laughed that hard?" Hazel's question caught him off guard, which made his smile fade as he turned off the computer screen to give her his attention. She rested her back against the bookshelf behind her and he noticed the rest of the lights in the main dining area had been shut off. They'd be in complete darkness if it weren't for the lights coming from the streetlamps just outside the windows behind the computer stations.

"Since the summer you left us," Dante answered truthfully. It had been the best two months of his life and it all came to end when Hazel went missing.

"Did you look for me?" Hazel asked quietly as she took the empty seat beside him and held his gaze intently. Dante would've gotten lost in her piercing eyes if his erection weren't still straining against his zipper, so he cleared his throat and looked away from her.

"You're here. You're safe. That's all that matters."

"He took me. I didn't have a choice, Dante." Hazel argued and her snappy tone let him know she was angry with him about him thinking she'd just run away like all the other kids who'd gone missing that summer. Whatelse should he have thought? Her parents told him she had taken some of her clothes with her; it was a natural conclusion to result to. The reasoning behind her actions, not so much. Hazel had the perfect life. She had no reason to run from it.

"I know," he replied as he rubbed his hands over his tired face and exhaled deeply. He spent the last ten years resenting this woman and here he was, sitting in front of her, with the biggest hard-on in the entire world, ready to trust her once again.

"I don't remember why I let him talk me into leaving." Hazel's words were liquid ice running through his veins and it made him look at her again.

"He must've threatened you with something. Something big. You would've told him to fuck off otherwise."

"I agree. But I can't remember what it was. My mind... it's like it only sees bits and pieces, never the whole truth," she added, as she blew out a breath of frustration and stood up. He joined her as they walked side by side, heading towards the back exit of the building and into an alley. He noticed an inconspicuous dark car parked by the main road, with the motor running and it alarmed him enough to raise his eyebrow.

"That's Elle. She's driving me home." Hazel answered his question before he could ask. It was a habit of hers, reading his mind before he bothered to share his secrets with her. It was how she told him he loved her that summer when they were fourteen, before he could grow the balls to even say it.

"She's different," Dante tried to ease the tension and his train of painful memories by making her laugh and it had worked.

"That she is. Is it okay if I stop by your place tomorrow? I want to get started on finding this coward as soon as possible," she suggested and while Dante knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was a bad idea, he nodded his response and regretted it as soon as he felt her arms wrap around him. She smelled like coffee and caramel and she now knew just how bad being around her was when she rubbed up against the bulge in his pants and the corners of her mouth lifted into a knowing smirk.

"Goodnight, Dante." The sultry demon he unfortunately still adored whispered the words in his ear, and then opened the car door, settling in and sending him a wink before her friend drove out onto the street.