Ch. 25 | Death Will Do

The sky over Las Vegas was bleeding—ribbons of purple, pink, and orange streaked across the dusk horizon like a wound that refused to close. Grant LaDeux stood in the kitchen, phone still pressed to his ear, the marble island between him and the woman he called wife.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Thanks, man.”

He hung up.

His face turned pale. Grave. He didn’t speak right away.

Macey, standing across from him with her manicured hand around a glass of cucumber water, raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He looked up slowly, letting the silence bloom. “It’s Lynn. And Jerry. They’re dead.”

Macey gasped, hand flying to her mouth. “What? Oh my God.”

He nodded solemnly, eyes heavy.

But inside?

He smirked.

Lynn Nichols—the self-righteous ice queen who had the audacity to ghost him, to end their affair like she was better than him—dead. No closure. No apology. No last word. Just… gone.

She thought she could walk away like he was the mistake. Like he hadn’t made her feel alive. Like she didn’t keep calling even after church. Like she didn’t—

He caught the edge of his smile in the reflection of the stove and quickly swallowed it down.

Not the time.

“We should… we should pray for them,” he said, slipping on the mask again.

Macey nodded numbly.

Grant reached across the marble, took her hands gently into his own, and muttered a few lines of generic, affectless grief: “Lord, bring comfort. Make sense of this. May your plans be greater than our pain. Amen.”

“Amen,” Macey echoed, voice thin.

He kissed her forehead. Dutiful. Hollow.

Then pulled away and grabbed his phone.

“I might go live in the man cave,” he said. “Something about grief, loss, and Christ’s plan in the midst of tragedy. Haven’t decided yet.”

He was already walking away.

The marble was cold against her forearms. Macey remained at the island long after Grant left, staring at the space where he’d stood. Outside the window, the dusk looked beautiful—but it wasn’t peaceful. The stillness clung to the glass like plastic wrap over a suffocating corpse.

She blinked.

They’re dead.

Her mind was still trying to catch up. Lynn. Jerry. Dead. Not just gone socially—gone gone.

A strange feeling coiled in her gut—half fear, half... satisfaction.

She hadn’t wished for death. Of course not. That would be unchristian—or it would’ve been, back when she cared. All she wanted was to neutralize Lynn. Remove the threat. Make her back off. Make her see.

And now?

Now, Lynn Nichols would never sleep with her husband again. Would never mock her with that superior smirk. Would never undermine the LaDeux brand or whisper rumors that Macey had no control.

She’s gone.

And Macey had done that.

Her fingers tapped gently over the faint imprint the pendant had left on her chest from her last ritual. She hadn’t known it would work. She was just trying. Putting the intention out into the universe. Asking for justice. For power.

And she’d gotten it.

I didn’t ask for this, she thought. But death will do.

She exhaled, trying to ride the high of the moment. But something clung to her thoughts like damp ash.

This was the third woman Grant had slept with who had died or vanished.

Anne. Janice. Now Lynn.

That wasn’t a pattern. Right?

She chewed her lip.

He’d never.

Grant wasn’t a killer. He was a narcissist with a Savior Complex and a habit of crossing lines—but not that line.

…Right?

Still, a dark whisper threaded through her thoughts.

He wouldn’t. But what if he didn’t do it himself? What if he… outsourced it?

David?

No. David was a rentboy who played the angles to his benefit, not a murderer.

Probably.

Macey stood up abruptly, brushing off the thought. She wouldn’t go there. Couldn’t. If she started connecting dots, she'd lose the thread of control. And she had just found it.

Whatever darkness had made this happen, she had tapped into it first.

This was mine.

She walked slowly to the window and stared out at the final sliver of light disappearing behind the horizon. It was quiet, still, and heavy with meaning.

I may be new to this… Her fingers tightened around the pendant. But I’m not here to play. I’m here to win.