THE COUNTER
716 Words
📖 Chapter 7 – The Counter
Killian shouldn’t have said it.
The moment the words left his mouth—
“It’s you.”
—something shifted.
Not in the room.
Not in the air.
In Murray.
It was subtle.
Almost invisible.
But Killian saw it.
That tiny break in perfection.
That brief… misalignment.
And then—
it was gone.
Murray straightened slightly.
Calm again.
Collected.
“You’re tired,” he said.
Same tone.
Same rhythm.
But now—
Killian heard it differently.
Not concern.
Control.
Killian let out a quiet breath.
Shook his head slightly.
“No,” he said. “Don’t do that.”
Murray frowned.
“Do what?”
“That,” Killian snapped. “That same line. Same tone. Same response.”
A pause.
Murray studied him.
“You think I’m repeating myself?” he asked.
Killian laughed.
Dry.
Sharp.
“I know you are.”
Silence stretched.
Then Murray stepped closer.
Not aggressive.
Not threatening.
Just… deliberate.
“You’re under pressure,” he said. “Your mind is trying to make patterns where there aren’t any.”
Killian’s jaw tightened.
“There are patterns,” he said. “You just don’t want me to see them.”
Murray tilted his head slightly.
“And why would I care what you see?”
Killian didn’t answer immediately.
Because that was the question.
The real one.
Why him?
Why now?
His chest tightened.
“…Because I’m part of it,” he said finally.
The words hung there.
Murray didn’t react.
Didn’t confirm.
Didn’t deny.
Just watched.
And that—
that was worse.
Killian stepped back again.
“You’re watching me,” he said. “You’ve been watching me.”
Murray sighed softly.
“No one is watching you, Killian.”
Too smooth.
Too clean.
Killian shook his head.
“No,” he said quietly. “That’s not true.”
His eyes sharpened now.
Focused.
“You slipped,” he added.
A pause.
Murray’s gaze held steady.
“When?” he asked.
Killian smiled faintly.
“When you didn’t ask who.”
Silence.
Then—
Murray smiled.
Not wide.
Not warm.
Just enough.
“You’re paying attention,” he said.
Killian froze.
That wasn’t denial.
That wasn’t dismissal.
That was—
acknowledgment.
Something cold settled in Killian’s chest.
“…Yeah,” he said slowly. “I am.”
Murray nodded once.
“Good.”
The word landed wrong.
Heavy.
Like approval.
Like progress.
Killian took another step back.
“You’re not even hiding it now,” he said.
Murray didn’t answer.
He just… stood there.
Perfect.
Controlled.
Waiting.
Later—
Killian sat alone.
Phone in hand.
Heart still racing.
Something was wrong.
Not just with Murray.
With everything.
And now—
he needed proof.
Not feelings.
Not guesses.
Proof.
He opened his phone.
Scrolled.
Checked everything.
Messages.
Calls.
Apps.
Normal.
All of it.
Too normal.
“…Come on,” he muttered.
His fingers moved faster now.
Digging deeper.
Settings.
Storage.
Hidden files—
He froze.
There.
A folder.
One he didn’t recognize.
No name.
Just a blank space.
Killian frowned.
He didn’t remember creating it.
Didn’t remember seeing it before.
Slowly—
he tapped it.
It opened instantly.
Files.
Dozens of them.
Videos.
Labeled by date.
His chest tightened.
He opened one.
The screen filled with footage.
His room.
Him.
Sleeping.
Killian jerked back.
“No—”
Another file.
Him streaming.
Different angle.
Not from his camera.
From behind.
Watching him.
Recording him.
Killian’s breathing quickened.
This wasn’t possible.
He opened another.
The café.
Earlier.
Him and Gibson.
Shot from across the room.
Hidden.
Unseen.
“…No,” he whispered again.
His hands shook now.
This wasn’t in his head.
This wasn’t confusion.
This wasn’t stress.
This was real.
Someone—
was watching him.
His phone rang.
Killian flinched.
Gibson.
He answered immediately.
“Gibson—”
“Killian,” Gibson’s voice came through. Fast. Uneven.
Something was wrong.
“I think—” Gibson started.
Then stopped.
Static.
Loud this time.
Sharp.
“…Gibson?” Killian said quickly. “What’s going on?”
A breath.
Not steady.
Panicked.
“I think someone’s been—”
The line cut.
Dead.
Killian stared at the phone.
Frozen.
Because now—
it wasn’t just him anymore.
Gibson was in it too. 👀🔥
🔥 What just happened
- Writer
