Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 122: Stay Close To Me!

Grace’s hand trembled as she stared at the single word on her phone screen.

*Mark~ Danger*

For a moment, she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stared.

The phone felt heavy in her grip, the screen glowing bright in the dim living room. Her thumb hovered over it, frozen.

Then her training kicked in.

She stood up so fast the couch cushion shifted beneath her, the springs creaking. "I need to go."

Her voice was sharp now, all business. The soft, flustered woman from minutes ago was gone, replaced by something harder. A cop.

Liam stood up too, watching her. "What does danger mean?"

Grace was already moving, walking quickly toward her bedroom. Her bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor. "It means the killer is already attacking."

Liam’s eyes widened. "What?"

Grace didn’t answer. She disappeared into her bedroom, leaving the door open behind her.

Liam followed, stopping in the doorway.

Grace’s room was small and neat, just like the rest of her house. A queen bed with white sheets pushed against one wall.

A dresser with a mirror on top. A closet with the door half-open, clothes hanging neatly inside.

Grace was at the dresser, yanking open drawers with sharp, efficient movements.

She didn’t bother with modesty.

She pulled her tank top off over her head, her breasts completely exposed.

She tossed it onto the bed and pulled out a black sports bra, throwing it on.

Then she grabbed a dark blue t-shirt and pulled it over her head. She moved fast, efficient, her hands steady despite the urgency.

Then she opened another drawer and pulled out a pair of dark jeans.

She kicked off her pink shorts in one fluid motion, standing there in just her black panties for a brief second before pulling the jeans on over them.

The denim slid up her legs, and she fastened the button quickly, then grabbed a black belt from the closet and threaded it through the loops with practiced ease.

Liam watched all of this happen in under a minute. The transformation was complete. The shy, blushing woman who’d been lying on the floor with him moments ago was gone.

Grace grabbed her phone off the bed where she’d tossed it and shoved it into her back pocket.

Then she walked over to the closet and reached up to the top shelf, pulling down a black leather gun holster.

She strapped it around her waist, adjusting it until it sat properly on her hip.

She reached up again and pulled down her service weapon—a black Glock 19.

She checked the magazine with a quick, practiced motion, pulling it out, inspecting it, then sliding it back in with a satisfying click.

Then she racked the slide, chambering a round, and slid the gun into the holster.

Her hands were steady now. Practiced. No hesitation.

She turned to leave, then stopped when she saw Liam still standing in the doorway, watching her.

"I need to go," she said again, her voice firm.

Liam’s eyes dropped to the gun holstered at her waist.

’She can’t stop him with that.’

"I’m coming with you," Liam said.

Grace shook her head immediately. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because you’re a civilian," Grace said, her voice firm. She crossed her arms. "Code 217. I can’t knowingly put civilian lives in danger. That’s protocol. I could lose my badge."

Liam crossed his arms too, mirroring her stance. "I’m not just some civilian. Remember? I’m a gang leader."

Grace let out a sharp breath through her nose. "That makes it worse."

"How?"

"Because both the cops and the killer aren’t exactly your friends right now," Grace said, her eyes hard. "You show up there, you’re a target from both sides. You get shot by a cop who thinks you’re a threat, or you get killed by whatever is doing this. Either way, you’re dead."

Liam stepped forward and grabbed her hand.

Grace froze, looking down at where his fingers wrapped around hers. His grip was warm, firm.

"You’ll need me," Liam said quietly. "I know what I’m saying."

Grace looked up at him, her jaw tight. Her eyes searched his face. "Liam, I can’t—"

"You can’t stop me from following you," Liam interrupted. "You can’t control where I drive. So it would be smarter to just take me with you so you can at least keep an eye on me."

Grace stared at him for a long moment. Her hand was still in his, and she could feel his pulse against her palm. Steady. Calm.

Then she let out a frustrated sigh, pulling her hand free. "Fine. But you stay with me. Always. You don’t wander off. You don’t do anything stupid."

"Deal," Liam said.

Grace grabbed her phone and pulled it out, dialing quickly as she headed for the door. She put it to her ear, waiting for someone to pick up.

Liam followed her out of the bedroom and back into the living room.

Daisy lifted her head from where she was lying, watching them move.

"Yeah, it’s Kim," Grace said into the phone. Her voice was clipped, professional. "I’m responding to the location Mark sent. I’m close. ETA ten minutes."

She paused, listening to whoever was on the other end.

"No, I’m probably going to be first on scene," Grace continued, grabbing her keys off the coffee table. "Send backup as soon as you can. This is urgent."

Another pause. Grace glanced at Liam.

"And listen," she said, her voice dropping slightly. "I’m not alone. I have a... civilian with me. He’s staying close. Just make sure responding units know there’s a non-hostile on site so nobody shoots him by mistake."

She hung up and looked at Liam, her expression serious. "You heard that. We’re probably going to be the first ones there. That means you stay right next to me. You don’t move unless I tell you to. You don’t touch anything. You don’t interfere. Understand?"

Liam nodded. "I understand."

Grace walked to the door and pulled it open. The cool night air rushed in, carrying the faint smell of cut grass and exhaust from the street.

Liam followed her out.

Daisy let out a soft whine as they left, then settled back down with a huff.

---

Grace’s car was a dark blue sedan parked in the driveway.

She unlocked it quickly with a beep of the key fob and slid into the driver’s seat. Liam got in on the passenger side, pulling the door shut.

Grace started the engine, the car rumbling to life. She pulled out of the driveway without a word, her hands tight on the wheel.

The streets were quiet this time of night.

Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, orange pools of light stretching across the asphalt.

A few cars passed by in the opposite direction, their headlights cutting through the darkness.

Grace drove fast but controlled, her hands tight on the wheel. Her knuckles were white. She didn’t look at Liam. Just stared straight ahead, her jaw set.

Liam watched her out of the corner of his eye. The soft, shy woman from earlier was completely gone. This was someone else. Someone focused. Someone dangerous.

The car’s headlights illuminated the road ahead, the white lines on the asphalt streaking past.

They passed a closed gas station, then a row of darkened storefronts. Everything was shut down for the night.

Grace took a sharp turn, the tires squealing slightly against the pavement. Liam grabbed the handle above the door to steady himself.

They drove for about ten minutes before Grace turned down a narrow street lined with old warehouses and industrial buildings.

The area looked abandoned—broken windows, graffiti sprayed across brick walls, chain-link fences with holes cut through them.

Grace slowed the car as they approached an alley between two buildings.

No police lights. No sirens. No flashing red and blue. Just darkness.

Grace pulled the car to a stop about fifty feet away from the alley entrance. She killed the engine, and the silence that followed felt heavy.

She sat there for a moment, her hands still gripping the wheel. Her breathing was steady, controlled.

Then she let out a breath and looked at Liam. "We’re first. Stay close to me. Don’t touch anything. Don’t move unless I say so."

Liam nodded. "Got it."

Grace opened the door and stepped out.

Liam followed, closing the passenger door quietly behind him.

The air outside was cooler now, carrying the faint smell of garbage and something else. Something metallic.

Blood.

Grace pulled her gun from the holster, holding it low and ready. She moved toward the alley entrance, her steps careful and measured. Her boots made soft sounds against the cracked pavement.

Liam stayed right behind her, close enough that he could hear her breathing. Close enough to see the tension in her shoulders.

As they got closer, Liam could see the scene.

Bodies.

At least four of them, lying on the ground in various positions. Some face-down. Some on their sides. All of them still. Too still.

Grace stopped at the entrance to the alley, her eyes scanning the area.

The narrow space stretched ahead, disappearing into shadow. "Stay here," she whispered.

She moved forward slowly, her gun raised now, sweeping left and right as she advanced. Her finger was off the trigger but ready.

The alley was barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side.

Trash bags were piled against one wall, some torn open with garbage spilling out.

The ground was slick with something dark that reflected the faint light from the street.

Grace approached the first body carefully, her steps deliberate.

It was a man in his twenties, wearing a black hoodie and jeans. He was lying face-down, his arms sprawled out to the sides. Blood pooled around him, dark and sticky, spreading across the pavement in an irregular shape.

Grace knelt beside him and reached out, pressing two fingers to the side of his neck. She held them there for several seconds, waiting.

Nothing.

She shook her head and stood, her jaw tight. "Dead."

She moved to the next body, a few feet away.

This one was on his side, wearing a gray jacket. Grace checked his pulse the same way. Held. Waited.

Nothing.

Liam stayed where he was, his eyes scanning the scene.

Something felt off.

He looked closer at the first body. At the way the blood had pooled around him. At the cut on the man’s throat, visible now from where Liam was standing.

It was clean.

Too clean.

Not jagged or torn like the other victims he’d seen before. This was a single, precise slash. Surgical almost.

And there was no X carved into his chest.

Liam frowned.

*’This doesn’t match.’*

Grace moved to the third body, checking the pulse again. Her movements were mechanical now, routine. "Dead," she said quietly.

Liam looked at the other bodies. Same thing. Clean cuts. No Xs carved into their chests.

This wasn’t the same killer. Or if it was, they’d changed their method completely.

’Something’s wrong here. This doesn’t match what I saw before. Why would he change now?’

Grace finished checking the fourth body and stood up, holstering her gun.

She pulled out her phone and started dialing, her other hand on her hip. "Yeah, it’s Kim. I’m on scene. Four victims, all deceased. No sign of the perpetrator. Send units and get forensics out here ASAP."

She paused, listening.

"No, the scene is secure for now. Just hurry."

She hung up.

Liam activated Silent Stride in his mind.

**[Silent Stride Activated]**

**[Duration: 10 minutes]**

The familiar sensation washed over him. His footsteps went completely silent.

Grace was still looking down at her phone, typing something. Her back was to him.

Liam started moving, slipping past her and heading deeper into the alley.

Grace finished typing and looked up. She turned around. "Liam, we should—"

She stopped.

He was gone.

Grace’s eyes widened. She looked around quickly, her hand going back to her gun. "Liam?"

No response.

"Liam!" she called again, louder this time. Her voice echoed off the brick walls.

Still nothing.

Grace spun in a circle, scanning the alley. He’d been right behind her. She’d seen him. She’d told him to stay close. And now he was just... gone.

"Where did you go?" she muttered, her voice tight with frustration and fear.

She took a step forward, her eyes darting to every shadow, every corner, every doorway.

But there was no sign of him.

Liam was already twenty feet ahead, moving silently through the darkness.