Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  “What do you mean?” I ask, playing dumb. We pretty much just … no, not pretty much, we actually did make love, didn’t we? There’s no doubt about that.

  “I mean,” he starts, reaching out to tuck some hair behind my ear. “Our entire relationship will be different from this moment on. I’m okay with that. How about you?” I nod, and then find myself surprised when he reaches out and pulls me into his arms, smoothing his hand down my back.

  He smells fucking amazing right now, his usual scent mixed with the faint saltiness of sex and the musky tang of … well, other things. He exhales, like he’s releasing much of his stress with that single breath.

  “You fit nicely here, I think,” he says, resting his chin on my head. “I could get used to this.”

  I don’t respond to that. There isn’t a great solution for any of this. Somehow, someway, someone is going to get hurt. Maybe multiple someones.

  We hold each other for a while before he pulls away, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against my mouth.

  “I’ll see you first thing in the morning, okay?” he says, and I nod, my throat suddenly tight with emotion. Chasm and I separate reluctantly, and he starts for the door. I let him get close enough to put his hand on the knob before a sense of panic overwhelms me.

  I end up padding across the floor before I truly realize what it is that I’m doing.

  “Don’t go,” I whisper, throwing my arms around him from behind. “Last time this happened, and he left …” I trail off and Chasm reaches down, placing one of his hands over mine. “Just don’t go.”

  “Come downstairs with me,” he replies, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’ll put on a shirt and sleep in the chair.”

  So we do exactly that, and I end up falling asleep on the ugly white couch with that strange purple fireplace flickering against the opposite wall. Mostly, it’s Chasm’s peppermint and dark chocolate smell that permeates the pillow I’m using that lulls me into a heavy, if uneasy, sleep.

  Delphine surprises me the following morning by gently shaking me awake with her hand on my shoulder.

  “Tess has asked that you move upstairs to your bedroom for now,” she says, giving me a sad, heavy sort of smile. I’m assuming that since she’s back, she must’ve passed her background check. I sit up suddenly, a little sore, a little guilty, but … I glance over to find Chasm awake in the chair, one elbow propped on the arm, his head in his hand.

  He’s just fucking staring at me, and I can barely deal with it.

  I look back at Delphine, dressed in her black and white maid uniform, the apron pressed and fresh, the frilly little headband nestled in her mousy brown hair. It falls around her face like a shield, her thick-rimmed glasses sitting on the tip of her nose.

  She seriously looks like an anime character or something. Also, her outfit makes me think of JJ. The girl who’s missing, who isn’t accounted for. The girl who, I suppose, wasn’t actually a victim of the Slayer at all, but that pervert, Mr. Fosser.

  Tess sweeps into the room, an earpiece in as she talks to someone on the phone. She doesn’t skip a beat, making herself a flat white as she carries on her conversation. It’s hard to hear over the steaming of the milk, but I don’t need to hear what she’s saying to know what it’s about.

  Parrish.

  “I honestly don’t know what to say to you, Caroline,” Tess snaps as soon as I can hear her again. She slams her mug down on the counter as I sit up the rest of the way and swing my legs over the edge of the couch. “Yes, well, he is your biological son.”

  Biological son?

  My head snaps over to Chasm, and I find him frowning in Tess’ direction. He lets his gaze slide over to me and raises his brows. I get the idea that he doesn’t know anything about this either.

  Caroline? Is that really the name of Parrish’s mom? I’d heard off-handedly from Tess that she ran off when he was a baby. But that’s about it. She clearly has no bearing on his life; he said as much himself.

  “Yes, well, when you decide to start caring that your son might be dead, give me a fucking call!” Tess hangs up and then leans over the counter like she’s about to have another breakdown. Eventually, she gets herself together and turns around to find the three of us staring at her. “Delphine, if you could start with this room, I’d appreciate it. We’re having another press conference tomorrow, and it needs to be spotless.”

  Hearing her order Delphine around rankles me a bit, but Delphine gives a simple nod of her head and goes about clearing Chasm’s nest of dishes and food wrappers off the coffee table.

  “The two of you up and out,” Tess says, waving randomly in Chasm’s and my direction. “We need to get this placed cleaned up. You.” She points at Chasm. “You can sleep in Parrish’s room with Maxx tonight.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Chas grumbles, pushing himself up and out of the chair. He helps me gather the blankets and pillows off the couch, our elbows bumping together. We glance over at each other, and I can’t help it. I smile. A real smile.

  It feels like a knife going straight into Parrish’s fucking back.

  Chasm smiles back at me, but I can’t handle it, so I look back down at the blankets, bundling some into my arms before taking off for the stairs. As per usual in this house, it’s an ungodly hour—even though it’s Saturday. Not that it matters since we’ve got work to do today.

  We head upstairs together, dumping the bedding on the floor of my bedroom. Neither of us is brave enough to wake Maxx up just yet. My heart aches with the thought that I can’t talk to Maxine, can’t ask her how she’s doing, if she’s hurting, if she misses X already.

  If she misses me.

  God, what my grandparents must think of me right now … I wonder if they hate me, if they’re glad I’m no longer a part of their family, if Maxine has even told them. It’d be like her not to, in order to spare everyone else’s feelings.

  “Good morning,” Chasm says finally, glancing my way. I look back at him, and my heart thumps strangely, making me feel lightheaded.

  “Good morning.” I glance over at my bed, and my cheeks heat with memories of last night. “Do you, um, know anything about Caroline?”

  Hearing Tess speak to Parrish’s bio mom was weird as hell.

  It takes me back to all those early feelings, those strange musings on what makes family, family. I’m here because I’m Tess’ biological child; she’s desperate to find Parrish because she loves him more than she loves me. And yet, from the sound of it, his bio mom isn’t concerned with his disappearance?

  It’s all so fucked-up.

  “Even less than I know about Justin,” Chas admits, scratching absently at his lower belly muscles and wrinkling up his black tee enough that I can see a tantalizing strip of flesh above his pants. “She hasn’t had any contact with him since Tess came into the picture. Like, none at all. Zero.” He makes a circle shape with his fingers, and we both pause as Maxx opens the door to Parrish’s bedroom.

  He looks slightly chagrined, his chocolate hair fresh and clean, dressed in tight jeans and a disturbingly tight red t-shirt with a bike on the front. His lush mouth is twisted to one side in thought. He seems almost surprised to see us standing there.

  His emerald eyes take us both in before dropping to the pile of bedding on the floor.

  “Tess kicked me out of the living room; she wants me to sleep with you tonight.”

  Maxx nods, reaching up to rub at his chin for a second. If he knows that Chas and I slept together again last night, he doesn’t let on.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he admits, sighing and then running the fingers of both hands through his hair. “My emotions are a goddamn mess, and I’m struggling with my classes. I …”

  “No explanation needed,” I say, lifting both hands up, palms out. “We’re all struggling with a lot here. And I … I’m sorry about Maxine.” The words come out in a near whisper. I haven’t been thinking about my sister much with everything else that’s going on. My thought is, if I can get Parr
ish back, if I can figure out how to deal with the Slayer, then I can tell her everything, apologize properly, and then grovel for forgiveness.

  As of right now, I’m shit out of luck. I cannot have her involved in this like, at all. I don’t want her anywhere near this mess. She’s better off in Oregon, buried in her studies. In the summer, she always goes back to New York. Soon enough, she’ll be in the Catskills with our grandparents and maybe, if the winds are blowing just right, Saffron as well.

  X drops his arms by his sides and gives me a tight nod and an even tighter smile.

  “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

  “What happened?” Chasm asks, and I cringe slightly, giving him a look. The guy has absolutely no shame. X moves into the room with us and closes the door. The atmosphere in my bedroom changes substantially, and I’m not sure, exactly, how to process it.

  “She broke up with me,” X explains, sweeping past me and pausing briefly to flip off the phone on the tripod. I almost smile at that, thinking of Parrish, but then, there’s not a lot to be happy about when it comes to our situation. He stares out at the window, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of the reporters down the street before he scowls. “Fucking vultures. I’d kick all their asses if I could find a get out of jail free card for the assault charges.”

  “What’d you do to make her break up with you?” Chasm continues, sitting on my bed and tucking one leg up against his chest. He’s got a bag of chips that he must’ve snatched from the coffee table on his way up here. He starts eating them on my bed, and I give him a look that can only be interpreted as do not get crumbs in my bed, or I will never let you call me naekkeo again.

  Maxx turns a look over his shoulder that’s half-threatening, half-bemused. He very clearly, um, ‘daddies’ the other boys. They barely have a two-year age gap, but the dynamic seems to work somehow. He and I are exactly three years apart; I know from Maxine’s ramblings that his birthday is just three days after mine.

  “Why do you assume it was something that I did?” he asks, sounding annoyed. He turns the rest of the way around, wetting his lips and then sighing. “She … kept defending Dakota.”

  “Defending Dakota?” Chasm asks, offering me the bag of chips. I wave him away, too focused on Maxx’s story, too curious for my own good. I’m far more emotional over this than I thought I would be. Maxx Wright isn’t the first boy that my sister’s broken up with. He’s also the only one I’ve ever been remotely attracted to.

  The thing is, whether he’s dating Maxine or not, he’s completely and utterly off-limits, and always will be. Even if I were inclined to investigate the natural chemistry between us, I’m already dealing with some sort of screwed up love triangle between Chasm and Parrish.

  I don’t need any further romantic complications.

  “She kept telling me that she knew something was wrong,” Maxx says, his voice heavy with melancholy. I keep thinking about my sister and how devastated she must be, but it looks like X is hurting pretty badly, too. My heart aches for them both, and also, selfishly, I get a jealous tummy ache that makes me furious with myself.

  I’m jealous that X is upset to be broken up with Maxine?

  What is wrong with me?

  Actions, not thoughts. Actions, actions, actions.

  “She was insistent that Dakota was lying to her, that she was in danger of some kind, that she needed her …” He trails off and my throat closes up. Oh, Maxie, I’m so sorry. You’re right, as always. Once that girl gives trust, it’s permanent and unyielding. She’ll believe in me to the very end. X huffs out a sigh and narrows his eyes, his mind clearly focused on the conflict between them. “What could I do about that? I don’t want Maxine here; you don’t want Maxine here. She needs to stay out of this shit.”

  “I’m guessing you pissed her off then?” Chasm continues, eating the chips and watching my face rather than X’s. Does he know that we sort of have a weird thing between us? A thing more taboo than anything going on with him, than anything going on with Parrish. Out of the three of them, Maxx is the most dangerous, the most restricted, a literal impossibility.

  Not that it matters. I’ve already let myself get twisted up in two boys. There’s no way in hell I’m adding another to my imaginary harem.

  “I told her that Dakota”—here he pauses to glance my way, his green eyes dark with emotion—“sorry, but I told her you meant what you said. That you’d changed since coming here. That maybe she didn’t know you the way she thought she did.”

  “Yikes,” Chas says as he grits his teeth and I cringe.

  Yep. That would do it.

  “One time, Maxine’s boyfriend told her I was an annoyance that he didn’t want around when they were hanging out. She dumped him and blocked him on everything; they never even spoke to each other again after that.”

  That makes X smile, and the expression it just … cuts right through me. I blink past the feelings and cross my own arms. We have a ton of work to do this weekend. That, and I’m dreading tomorrow.

  Not only did the Slayer make several references to Sunday, but Tess is having another huge press conference right here at the house. Most importantly: it’s day fourteen of Parrish’s disappearance.

  “Your sister’s an amazing person, and I just fucked everything up for myself.” He sighs again and moves over to snatch the chips from Chasm. “Maybe she’ll stay single long enough that I can get her back after this is all over?”

  “Knowing Maxine, she’ll be single for a while. She doesn’t just date anyone. She’s picky, and she falls hard, but never harder than I saw her fall for you.” I stop talking suddenly as X looks at me with an almost pained expression on his face. He looked at me that same way in the bathroom at the coffee shop when I threw my arms around him.

  He feels the same chemistry that I do, and he wants nothing to do with it.

  I don’t blame him; this is bad for both of us.

  “You did the right thing, man,” Chasm agrees, pulling his other leg up onto the bed and wrapping his arms around his knees. Just looking at him, long and lean, inked and muscular, makes me want to crawl into the circle of his arms.

  I lick my lips.

  I’m supposed to be giving into my feelings, aren’t I? That’s quite literally the directive we were given. What if the Slayer or Mr. Volli is watching us even now? What if they can tell that I’m holding back?

  What if I’m just trying to make excuses for my own selfish wants?

  In the end, I give up and approach the bed, climbing on next to Chasm and leaning my head against his shoulder. He shudders and closes his eyes, but he puts an arm around me anyway and squeezes me tight.

  X watches us with an agonized and totally confusing expression on his face.

  He then grabs my Tess-phone off the dresser, holds out his palm in silent offering for my other one, and then dumps them in Parrish’s room so we can talk more privately. When he returns, he takes up his same position, one shoulder leaning against the post of my bed.

  “I didn’t completely waste away last night crying over my fucked-up relationship,” he says with a slight smile, and I get the idea that he didn’t cry at all. Not because he doesn’t care about Maxine, but just because he seems to process his emotions in a different way. “I made a list of all the people who would’ve had access to the house that day, people who knew the code. If that girl you, uh, ‘delivered’, worked here for any period of time, she’d have keys as well as the gate code. Her attacker could’ve gotten those things from her any number of ways. Maybe he gave that information to the others?”

  I’m already shaking my head.

  “I’m not saying he didn’t do that, or that he didn’t have that information, but you didn’t see the look on his face when I started making connections. When he started making connections and realized that I was the Seattle Slayer’s daughter.” I pick up the book on my nightstand—Fleeing Under a Summer Rain. I need to read or at least skim this today, just to see if there’s anything r
eal contained in its pages.

  Tess primarily writes true crime which means that her work is based on real-life events. This is one of her very few exceptions to that rule—supposedly. It could very well be just a revenge fantasy, one where her estranged daughter murders the man that she blames for so many of the wrongs in her life.

  But I have no idea.

  It’s worth a few hours of my time anyway.

  “What about the other maid?” Chas asks, gesturing with his head toward the door. “Delphine or whatever her name is. She skeeves me out, I won’t lie.” He snatches the chip bag back from Maxx, and the two of them glare at each other for a second. “She has access to the whole house, moves around like she’s invisible. How easy would it have been for her to let the Slayer in or fuck with the cameras? Better yet, maybe she’s the one that dragged Parrish out of here? Stabbed a needle in his neck the same way she could’ve done to you the night you ended up in the woods.”

  It’s a good theory, one that I’ve entertained myself. At this point, everyone’s a suspect. Even Paul.

  “That’s all true. But she did just pass a federal background check.”

  Chasm snorts.

  “Just because she’s clean on paper but doesn’t mean she’s an angel with a halo. How do we know she isn’t working for the Slayer? It’d make perfect sense. She didn’t start working here until like, two weeks before you moved in.”

  I think about that for a minute. Delphine really does look guilty, doesn’t she?

  “Let’s keep digging into her then,” I say, wondering if we might be able to follow her when she leaves at the end of the day. “Also, I’m sorry, but Chas, your dad looks guilty as fuck.” I give him a look and he sighs, his body sagging against me. Before I can fully register what he’s doing, he’s handing Maxx the chip bag and then dragging me into his lap.

  “Let’s check him out, too. I’ll go home today and video chat you so you can see the wine cellar.” Chasm scrubs a hand over his face, his gaze getting this faraway sort of look to it when he mentions going home, like it’s some poisonous, terrible thing.