by Kaitlin Ward
“Maybe we should go to the dam,” Liam says. “If you’re ready. I just … know you love it there, and it bums me out that you haven’t been in months.”
“I don’t know.” My fingers tighten around his. “Let me think about it?”
“Of course.” He kisses me goodbye outside my English classroom, slow and lingering, and then leaves with another of his bright smiles.
I slip into a seat next to Grace, as usual, but we barely have time to say hello before Mr. Gaouette starts talking. She angles her notebook toward me and scribbles How’s it going?
Good, I write in the corner of mine.
She narrows her eyes. How’s it actually going?
I hesitate, pen hovered over my notebook. Idk. Ok I guess.
Tell me more.
Idk if I think they caught the right person.
Who do you think it was??
Liam.
No idea. All I know is when they took him away, I didn’t feel relieved. More questions than answers. Don’t get me wrong, he’s def a creep, but he didn’t confess to anything & I just feel like I need some kinda actual closure before I really feel safe again. I’m being dumb, aren’t I?
She shakes her head and pulls her notebook closer to herself, writing a long note before shoving it back toward me.
How you feel is legit whether he turns out guilty or innocent. Don’t ever second guess your instincts. Better to be worried & safe than overconfident and dead. You don’t have to feel relieved just because that’s easier for everyone else. This didn’t happen to them, it happened to you. & I’m always around if you wanna talk, you know that (I hope).
Grace … gets it. She’s always understood me, maybe better than anyone. It’s probably why I feel the way I do about her. Why every time I talk to her or see her or think about her, I question what I’m doing with Liam instead of Grace. The answer to the question is always the same, though. Grace is one of my best friends. Risking the loss of that friendship … it’s a huge gamble.
I draw a big heart on my notebook paper and then set to work thoroughly crossing out everything I’ve written so no one else can see it if I accidentally leave this notebook open somewhere. Grace smiles at me and does the same.
And for a fleeting moment, I feel a little bit better than just okay.
Thursday night, Mom sits Hunter and me down at the table with her Serious Face on.
“I want to talk to you both about something,” she says. “And I want to be clear that you can absolutely say no, okay?”
We both nod.
“Your dad and I got invited to a wedding this weekend in Massachusetts. We weren’t going to go because of, well, you know. But with Calvin Omerton in jail right now waiting for his trial … We’d have to be there overnight on Saturday, but we’d be back early Sunday. What do you guys think?”
“I don’t care if you go,” says Hunter. “Whatever Amelia thinks is fine by me.”
I am not fine with it. But I don’t want to tell them that, because all my bad feelings are based on absolutely nothing, and my parents have been forced to revolve their lives around me for months. “I think you should go.”
“You sure?” Mom’s eyes pierce into my very soul.
“Yes. One hundred percent.”
“Okay. Great.” She grins broadly. “We’ll go, then.”
As soon as she frees us, I go up to my bedroom, a plan—possibly a very bad plan—forming in my mind. I slip my phone out of my pocket and text Liam. My parents will be away overnight this weekend. What should we do??
His response is almost immediate. I have a really great idea, actually. But you’ll have to trust me.
Ooh, intrigue …
I’ll pick you up Saturday morning around 10?? I promise, it’ll be a great surprise. Such a great surprise.
Sounds perfect.
And then I set down my phone, thinking hard. Maybe this is going to be a romantic surprise. Or maybe it’s going to be a deadly one. I can’t shake the horrible feeling in my gut that it could be either, and Grace told me to trust my gut. I want to talk about this with my friends, but I’m not sure that I can. Roman has been close with Liam for a long time, and I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. And Tera’s his girlfriend, so, same. I hear voices downstairs—Skylar saying something to my mom—and then I hear her footsteps coming up. Used to be, she would stop in my room first, but I burned that bridge pretty thoroughly. It makes my heart hurt a little to think about how I lashed out at her, and at Hunter. It was a little bit about Liam, but it was more about jealousy over how much time she spends with my brother.
I cross the hall and knock on Hunter’s door. He opens it and scowls at me.
“Want something?” he asks.
“Yeah, to apologize.”
He lets me in. Sky’s sitting on his bed, totally comfortable there.
“I just wanted to say that when I yelled at you, it wasn’t really about Liam, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“What was it about?” Sky asks. Her voice is edged. She doesn’t forgive me yet.
“It was about … well, you two. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with you dating, and I know it doesn’t matter if I am or I’m not, anyway. But you’ve been … I don’t know, I feel like I never see you anymore, Sky. Like you want to be spending all your time with Hunter instead.”
“You have a new boyfriend, too, Amelia. You don’t think you’ve abandoned me at all in favor of him? I mean look how you reacted when Hunter tried to tell you what happened to make him hate Liam. You totally sided with your boyfriend over your family.”
I feel defensive now and I wish I hadn’t come in here. “I didn’t side with Liam, I just felt … attacked. I don’t know how I feel about Liam right now. Maybe he did kill those squirrels and maybe I should be careful with him, but maybe I shouldn’t, and that’s for me to figure out. I appreciate that you told me, but I don’t like that you waited until a moment when you could spring it on me so aggressively, and you did it together like a pair of stern parents.”
“And you should have said all of this to begin with.” Sky folds her arms. “Best friends should always be honest with each other. They shouldn’t hold it in and then explode out of nowhere and then give each other the silent treatment and then come give a non-apology.”
“You’re right,” I say, my throat thick with sorrow. “I guess we’re not best friends.”
And I walk out.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why I can’t swallow my pride and tell her I messed up and that I want to test if Liam is trustworthy, to figure it out once and for all. I can’t trust that she and Hunter won’t go straight to my parents and tell them everything, and I don’t want that. I got myself into this, and I need to get myself out of it, one way or the other.
There is one person who can help me, though. I just don’t want to get her too involved.
Hey can I ask you a weird favor? I text Grace.
Obv is her reply.
I’m gonna send you a link to a GPS tracking app. Download it and accept me as a friend on it? Just for the weekend. Everything’s fine but I’m feeling super paranoid & I just want to be able to text someone if anything weird happens. Then the police will be able to find me. That sounds dramatic huh? I promise everything is ok other than my paranoia.
I send that, the link, and then a second text: Me & Sky are fighting.
It takes a while for her to reply, and I think maybe I pushed too far. Maybe this is too much to ask of someone without giving more details. But finally:
Ok I DL’d the app. I think we’re friends on it now lol. I hope you know this is super weird Amelia. And I’m sorry about you and Sky. Hope it’s over soon. ♥
Thx. I know it’s weird. I’m not trying to be cagey. There’s just honestly nothing to tell, I’m literally being paranoid.
Well I want you to feel and be safe no matter what. And I trust you.
She trusts me. I hold the phone to my chest, smiling.
N
o matter what happens or doesn’t happen, I think Saturday is going to be terrible. But I’ll get through it, and I know Grace is here for me, and that’s something.
When Liam picks me up Saturday morning, I immediately feel like a jerk. What if I’m wrong to be suspicious of him? The more they search through Mr. Omerton’s house, the more disgusting he turns out to be. He deserves to be in jail whether he murdered anyone or not. I was not safe living across the street from him, that’s for sure. Mom has been absolutely beside herself about it.
Liam leans over to kiss my cheek, and I force a smile. Act natural. Guilty or innocent, Liam can’t suspect that I’m unsure.
That thought twists a knot in my stomach. I have to break up with him. Not now, not today. But you can’t date someone if you even have the thought that they might have tried to kill you. It’s an unrecoverable thing. I think back over the past few months, how much fun we’ve had together. He’s been so supportive, so kind, so wonderful. I slip my hand into his as he pulls out of my driveway.
Today we find out, I guess, if he’s a monster, or if I am.
When we reach the town hall, Liam turns left toward Hen Falls.
“Where are we going?” I ask. Is that a tremor in my voice? Usually, I’d be so down for a surprise. But today I wish I knew exactly where he was taking me.
“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “But fine, I can’t wait to tell you any longer. My dad has a hunting camp up on one of the back roads, and I thought we could hang out there, have a romantic day. There’s a fireplace, so we won’t freeze. Only thing is my dad doesn’t trust strangers to go up there. So he’ll meet us there, but he won’t stay long. You’ve been wanting to anyway, haven’t you? You wanted to meet him.”
“Oh, well, yeah, of course.” I am so not ready to meet his crappy dad today. Nervously, I smooth my shirt—just a plain, light blue V-neck. My jacket’s tossed in the back seat. “Is what I’m wearing okay?”
“Trust me, he’s not going to have a problem with your outfit.”
I force a laugh. “What will he have a problem with?”
His laugh sounds real. “It’s not you he hates. He’ll be perfectly nice to you. I promise.”
“Okay.” Something about this feels very wrong. Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s fine.
I spend ten minutes telling myself it’s fine, making light small talk with Liam, but the longer we’re in this car, the more not-fine this feels.
Somethings off. Pls don’t reply just get help. GPS on & I’m ok rn. Going to Liams camp.
I send the text to Grace and then delete it immediately and pretend to be scrolling through Instagram, making sure he sees me comment on a couple of pictures so he thinks that’s what I was doing in the first place. This was a bad idea, such a bad idea. What made me think I should get in a car with Liam when for days my mind has been cycling around all the things that scare me about him?
My arms feel numb and weak, so I set down my phone before my nerves become visible.
“Anything good?” he asks.
“Nah, just a bunch of selfies as usual.”
“That’s why I avoid social media,” he says, expression sour.
“Oh, come on. We’ll get you posting more, eventually. People enjoy seeing your face, you know.”
His expression warms. “We’ll see.”
Even though I told Grace not to reply to my text, part of me wishes she had. Not knowing what I’m walking into or if anyone will be able to help me is utterly terrifying. I want to call Mom right now and beg them to come back from that wedding. But it’s too late for that. I’ve already made my bed.
Liam’s tires crunch as he turns onto a snow-covered side road. I’ve been out this way before, I think. It’s pretty barren, minus the hunting camps, but maybe I could use the forest to my advantage, if I had to. Liam might be the more athletic of the two of us, but I’m a good, fast runner, and I’ve spent a lot of time in the woods. He turns up another road, his tires skidding a little on the icy underlayer. Neither of us comments on the lack of fresh tire tracks, the fact that no one’s been in or out since we got snow. I consider leaping out, making a run for it, but something tells me that wouldn’t end well for me.
I’m eerily calm, considering that I’ve basically allowed myself to become a hostage. My palms are sweaty, but my mind was at least partly prepared for this. The only thing I’m worried about is whether his dad actually is up here. Are they working as a team? I can’t do anything about the two of them together. Liam alone is stronger than me.
Liam parks the car outside a small log structure, a fairly typical hunting camp. “There’s no smoke rising,” he says. “You’ll want your coat till we get a fire going.”
Dutifully, I reach into the back seat to retrieve it. He waits till I start putting it on, then gets out of the car while I’m tugging my arms into the sleeves. He opens my door for me and holds out his hand. I wipe mine discreetly on my jeans before taking his and zip my phone into my coat pocket with the other.
When Liam opens the door of the hunting camp, a foul smell bursts out at me. Oh. Oh.
He pushes me inside with a hand on the small of my back, then closes the door and leans against it. Wide gaps in the logs plus high windows on all sides of the cabin provide plenty of light, and honestly, I wish they didn’t. Because lying in the middle of the floor is a mostly decomposed body. A skeleton nearly bared, with leathered skin still clinging around the ribs and chest. The sight—and smell—makes me gag.
“Amelia, meet my father,” says Liam, and there’s laughter in his voice. “I thought you two might get along. You like bugs and, well, their larvae sure like him.”
“You did this?” I whisper. I don’t even know what else to say or do or think. It was one thing to consider it in the dark safety of my room: I think my boyfriend is a killer. It’s another thing to see it before my very eyes. To see what he did to his own father. To know, without a doubt, that he plans to do the same thing to me.
The thought is so chilling, so bone-deep terrifying, it freezes me entirely.
“It was actually an accident. He tripped over a branch trying to chase me down, hit his head on the tailgate of his truck. His skull cracked open like an egg.” Liam’s eyes flash with a darkness I have never seen in them before. He’s haunted by whatever his father did to him before this moment, but that doesn’t make any of it okay. “But seeing him lying there, lifeless, it reminded me that there’s a really good way to take care of your enemies.”
“Was Maria your enemy? And Lydia?”
He shrugs. “No. And neither were you. You’re not stupid; you know it’s the brothers I want to suffer. Otherwise I think I would have made the deaths much slower. The only mistake I made was not checking to make sure you were actually dead. Because it wasn’t Hunter who suffered after that, was it? It was you.” He tilts his head pensively. “Honestly, Amelia, I enjoyed dating you. I didn’t think that I would. I thought you were kind of … weird. But you’re not, really. I actually like you a lot, I think. Maybe that’s why I let this go on so long.”
Tears burn hot in my eyes. It’d be easier if he’d just told me he hated me. “Then why do this? Why not just let me go?”
He scoffs. “A little late now, don’t you think? You know too much. You’ve seen my dad, and you’ve— Besides, you weren’t going to keep on dating me anyway, were you? You like that girl, Grace, don’t you? She’s next, by the way.” His eyes glint. Jealousy.
“I don’t get it. I can understand, if your father— If you felt like he deserved it. But I don’t understand how you could kill someone who hasn’t hurt you and feel—feel fine about it. Why, Liam? ”
“You don’t have to understand. It was a means to an end. The killing was the means, watching the brothers suffer was the end. The rest …” He shrugs again. “I feel nothing about it.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.” He takes a step closer. “Is this enough closure for you? Because I’m starting to get bored.�
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“No,” I say, panicked. “This is not enough closure for me.”
Another step.
“I won’t tell a soul, Liam. Just let me go. Let me live. I will stay with you forever if you want. I’ll marry you, I’ll live with you, I’ll let you—”
I can’t finish the sentence, even though in this moment I feel like I would let him kill a thousand women if it meant he would leave me alive.
Liam chuckles, amused by my fear. “Oh, Amelia. There is no promise you can make that’d convince me to let you live, not now. That’s the thing about people who are alive: They can promise anything, but they’re almost always liars.”
“I’m not.” My voice is hoarse. I back up toward the far wall, trying to put as much space between us as possible even though it doesn’t matter.
“No? How many times did you say you were going to let this go? I sent those texts, by the way, if you didn’t figure it out. I liked how worked up it made you, and I was curious if you would actually heed my warnings.”
“That’s different. That’s before I knew. I—”
“Spare me.” He doesn’t say it with anger. His voice is perfectly even, calm, like we’re having a regular conversation. “Just so you know, I would have killed you either way. I just didn’t want you to figure it out beforehand. And don’t worry, I’ll do this right. It’s like you said the other day, we don’t know what the killer does with boyfriends. You’ll wind up dead, and I’ll wind up injured, and the police won’t know what to do.”
“They’ll figure it out,” I say hoarsely. But it’ll be too late for me when they do.
“You haven’t told anyone where we are, have you?”
I shake my head.
“You sure? Let me see your phone.”
I don’t want to give him my phone, my lifeline, but I also don’t want him to come any nearer. I fish it out of my pocket, unlock it, and toss it to him, hoping with everything in my soul that no one’s texted me. Other than the deleted texts to Grace, I haven’t put a word of my suspicions in writing, but I don’t like the thought of him going through my messages nonetheless. As if I didn’t feel vulnerable enough. Whatever he finds there, it seems to satisfy him. He slams the phone hard on the floor and I watch it shatter. And now … what’s next? His eyes meet mine, and I know what’s next.