Bound By Sin

Nicholas' Exit.

The music thumped through Ashton's house, a bass-heavy beat that didn't match the tense undercurrent swirling through the room. Nicholas stood in the corner, leaning against the wall, swirling the last of his beer in the bottle as he scanned the room. His eyes flicked to each of them—Ashton, Theo, Isabella, Genevieve—and there was something in his gaze that made the air grow thick with unspoken tension. He downed the rest of his drink in one long gulp, slamming the empty bottle onto a nearby table. The sharp clink echoed through the room, cutting through the noise of the party.

"Well," Nicholas said, his voice carrying above the music, "guess I'm not really welcome here, huh?"

Everyone froze. It was as if the entire room held its breath, watching him. The easy, casual Nicholas was gone, replaced by someone darker, someone unhinged. His lips curled into a bitter smile, and his eyes glinted with a mix of anger and something else—something Genevieve couldn't quite place, but it chilled her to the bone.

"You've all been watching me tonight. Like I wouldn't notice." His gaze swept over them, stopping on Genevieve for just a fraction of a second longer. "You think I'm the killer, don't you?"

Nobody moved. The silence was suffocating.

Nicholas let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "You know what? Screw this. You want me gone? Fine. I'll go."

Without another word, he stormed toward the door, shoving past a couple of people as they scrambled out of his way. His heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, each one more ominous than the last. The front door slammed behind him with a loud bang, and then... silence.

For a few moments, nobody said anything. The weight of Nicholas's exit hung in the air like a storm cloud, and Genevieve's heart pounded in her chest, her hands still trembling. She looked at Isabella, who was pale and wide-eyed, before glancing at Ashton and Theo.

"Is... is he gone?" Isabella whispered, barely audible over the muffled music still playing in the background.

Ashton peered through the window, watching Nicholas' silhouette disappear down the street. "Yeah. He's gone."

Only then did they all relax, slumping onto Ashton's couch, the tension between them palpable. Genevieve dropped into the corner of the couch, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of them clear. Theo sat beside her, his leg bouncing nervously, while Isabella perched on the armrest, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"We need to talk about this," Theo said, his voice low but urgent. "This is getting out of control. If Nicholas is the killer... then what the hell are we supposed to do?"

Ashton rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes focused on the floor. "We've got to be careful. If it really is him, then he's dangerous. We can't just confront him outright. He's not going to confess because we all sit him down for a chat."

Genevieve stared at her hands, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. "But we can't keep doing nothing either," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "People are dying. And if it's him... we're sitting here, letting it happen."

Isabella shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room. "Maybe we're wrong. I mean, we don't have any proof. What if we're just paranoid because the police keep questioning him? I don't want to believe it's him either, but what if we're wrong?"

"We're not wrong," Ashton said, his tone dark. "The way he's been acting—tonight, especially—he knows we're onto him. The way he flipped out... it's like he wanted us to know. He wanted to scare us."

Theo shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. How could he hide something like this from us? I've known him for years. You've known him for years, Ashton. We've all been played, haven't we?"

Genevieve felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She had been closest to Nicholas, and the thought that she had been fooled this whole time—that she had defended him—made her sick to her core. "Maybe he's been playing all of us," she said softly. "Maybe that's why he's so good at it. He knows exactly what to say, how to act, to make us second-guess everything."

Ashton leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes narrowed in thought. "So what do we do? If we're sure it's him, we can't just sit here waiting for him to slip up."

Theo's voice was hard as he replied, "We need to catch him in the act. If we can get evidence, real evidence, then we can go to the police."

"But how?" Isabella asked, her brow furrowed. "We don't know when or where he's going to strike next. Are we supposed to follow him around? Spy on him?"

"That's exactly what we have to do," Ashton said, his voice grim. "We watch him. Keep an eye on him, figure out where he goes and what he's doing when we're not around. He'll slip up eventually. He has to."

Genevieve felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of trailing Nicholas, of watching him, knowing what he might be capable of. "What if he finds out we're following him? He's already suspicious of us."

"We're careful," Ashton replied. "We can't let him know. But we can't let him keep doing this either."

Isabella's face was pale, her voice small as she spoke. "And if it's not him?"

Ashton's jaw clenched. "Then we're back to square one. But right now, he's our best lead. We can't ignore it."

They all sat in silence for a few moments, the enormity of the situation sinking in. The room felt colder now, the gravity of what they were discussing heavy in the air. None of them had ever imagined being in this position, having to investigate one of their own. But if Nicholas really was the killer, they didn't have a choice.

Finally, Genevieve stood, her hands trembling as she grabbed her jacket. "We should go," she said, glancing at Isabella. "It's getting late."

Isabella nodded, slowly standing up from the couch, her face tight with anxiety. "Yeah... you're right. We'll figure this out tomorrow."

Ashton stood, walking them to the door. "Be careful," he said, his voice low. "If he shows up again tonight... just call me, okay?"

Genevieve nodded, her throat dry. "We will."

*******************************

As they stepped out into the cold night air, the reality of what they were planning weighed heavily on Genevieve's chest. They were stepping into dangerous territory—territory none of them were prepared for. But if they didn't, more people would die.

And deep down, Genevieve knew Nicholas was already two steps ahead of them.

As they climbed into the car and drove away, Isabella's voice broke the silence. "Do you think we'll catch him?"

Genevieve gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white. "I don't know. But we have to try."

The night stretched on, dark and uncertain, and for the first time in her life, Genevieve wasn't sure if they would make it out the other side unscathed.