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FORTY-SEVEN
IT TOOK KITTY A MOMENT TO PROCESS WHAT SHE WAS SEEING: that it was Logan, not Ed, who held them at gunpoint.
“But . . .” Olivia looked back and forth between Kitty and Bree. “I don’t understand.”
“I know,” Logan said. “That’s what makes it so awesome. None of you suspected me. Not even Ed, and he hates me.”
Olivia shook her head. “But you . . . I mean, the photo. Ed had you bound and gagged.”
“He staged it,” Bree said.
“What does Ed have to do with this?” Margot asked.
“He was at the theater that night,” Olivia said. “He attacked you. We thought.”
“No,” Margot said. She was staring at Logan, her face blank, her eyes devoid of emotion. “He attacked me.”
Logan’s smile faltered. “Yes.”
Kitty caught a slight flutter of Logan’s eyelids, and for a split second, his trigger hand faltered. He may have been a liar and a murderer, but his feelings for Margot were real.
“How could you?” Kitty said, laying into the one weakness she knew Logan possessed. “You love her. How could you hurt her like that?”
“I did it because I love her.” Logan’s eyes softened as he shifted them to Margot. “I hope you understand.”
“You tried to kill her because you love her?” Bree exclaimed. “Pretty fucked-up way of showing it.”
“What do you know about love?” Logan asked. “You and John and your Star Wars quotes and your witty banter. It’s the most superficial crap I’ve ever seen.”
Bree jutted out her chin defiantly. “You don’t know anything about us.”
“Really?” Logan descended two steps down from the platform. “Have you done anything at all to deserve John’s love? He pined for you for years while you drooled over that idiot in the band. Then you miraculously discovered feelings for him only after he became a rock star? Sounds like the definition of superficial.”
“Maybe,” Bree said. “But at least I didn’t try and kill him.”
“He was afraid of what Ed was going to tell me,” Margot said. Her body was utterly still, and her voice was growing stronger by the minute.
Logan nodded. “Yes.”
“And he had to make sure I never talked to Ed.”
“I knew you’d understand.” Logan smiled at her.
Margot stiffened. “Tell me why. You owe me that.”
“Christopher was my roommate at Archway,” Logan said. “More than that. We were like brothers. That place was a hellhole, and after the first six weeks I was ready to put myself out of my misery. But Christopher talked me down off the ledge, kept me sane.” Logan swallowed. “He saved my life.”
“But that was before Ronny,” Margot said.
Logan nodded. “I saw how much time Christopher was spending with Ronny, and I was worried. I didn’t like Ronny from the start, but Christopher said I just had to get to know him. First he gained Christopher’s trust, then his love. He manipulated Christopher over the whole Coach Creed thing. He knew Creed made Christopher’s life a living nightmare, and he goaded him on during all those late night chats, until they managed to get Creed fired.
“Christopher thought he was in love, right up until Ronny threatened to blackmail him over some emails and photos Christopher had sent. Romantic stuff. Christopher was devastated. And I . . .” Logan took a slow breath through pursed lips, the emotion overwhelming him. “And I couldn’t save him.”
“You killed the people you blamed for his death,” Margot said.
Logan nodded. “Creed was a monster and a bully. Rex threatened to kill him if he ever breathed a word of what happened between them. And Ronny betrayed him. They all deserved to die.”
Kitty couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All that time Logan had been stalking them, manipulating them, and killing in their name, he clearly thought it was for justice. Just like DGM.
“But Sergeant Callahan had the watch,” Olivia said, still not getting it.
“Because I sent it to him,” Logan said. “Pretended it was from a grateful citizen. Greedy idiot bought it, too, which made it really easy for you to think he was the killer.”
“So you wanted to get back at Ronny, Coach Creed, even Rex?” Bree said, glaring at Logan. “I get it. For the most part they deserved what they got. Why bring us into this?”
Hatred flashed across Logan’s face. “Because you started this! You think you’re so righteous, you and your DGM pranks. Christopher told me all about your betrayal. How you mocked him for being gay. And now you think you’re absolved of that because of DGM? Not so much. I followed Ronny here, and when I found out that he would be going to school with you in the fall I thought I could kill two birds with one stone: you and Ronny. I grew my hair out, streaked it blond, changed my name, and played this dumb surfer role—Ronny never even recognized me. I got Mika drunk at that party and planted her in Ronny’s car. I knew you couldn’t resist getting revenge for Kitty’s best friend. I made sure Margot found the DVD with the video on it. I left the note on the door in Ronny’s bedroom to lead to you on a wild goose chase. I recruited your loved ones for a new DGM then framed them for murder so you’d feel the same pain of loss I felt with Christopher died.”
“You want to get back at me?” Bree said. “I’ll take it.” She stepped forward, hands up in surrender.
“Bree, no!” Olivia cried. She grabbed her hand, yanking her back.
“It’s the only way,” she said. “He’s right, I started this with Christopher. You guys haven’t done anything wrong. You don’t deserve to pay for my crimes.”
“Haven’t done anything wrong?” Logan laughed. He shifted the gun to Kitty. “You got your friend kicked out of school so you could take her spot as team captain.” He switched his focus to Olivia. “And what you did to Margot is unforgiveable.”
Olivia dropped her eyes. “I know.”
“I’m getting revenge for all the victims. You, your former targets, all of you. They’re just as horrible, just as guilty of making people feel small and victimized. This isn’t just about Christopher anymore. My mission is to protect the innocent by ridding the world of people like you.” He paused, and turned his eyes to Margot. “The only one of you who is truly innocent is Margot.”
Margot blinked several times, but other than that, her face was completely blank.
Logan reached his empty hand toward her. “Come with me, Margot. I’ve got the others tucked away in the basement. All bullies. All horrible people.” He nodded at Kitty. “Just like them. We’ll shoot them and the rest, lock the door, and leave their bodies here. Make it look like a murder suicide and blame the whole thing on DGM.”
Margot stared at him but didn’t say a word.
“Don’t you see?” Logan continued, his finger twitching against the detonator. “We can expose the hypocrisy and end their reign all at the same time. The world will know what horrible people they really are, and we can be together. I love you and—”
“Leave her alone!”
Margot was still processing Logan’s words when she saw an arm fly around his neck. Thin and angular, with a knobby elbow, Ed’s arm was unmistakable as he hurled himself through the doorway, catching Logan from behind.
“I won’t let you hurt her,” Ed shouted, trying to wrestle the gun from Logan’s hand. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else.”
Logan threw his body back, slamming Ed into the door frame. Ed grunted, loosening his grip on Logan’s neck, his other hand still locked on to the gun. Logan bent forward, flipping Ed’s body over his head. There was a moment of confusion, a blur of arms and legs and bodies as the two of them fought over possession of the gun, then with an earsplitting crack that sent convulsions racing through her, the gun went off.
Margot heard someone groan, then she saw Logan heave Ed’s body down the stairs. Kitty caught him, and lowered Ed to the ground. As she did,
something clattered to the concrete floor at Margot’s feet.
The world seemed to slow down. Olivia screamed, then burst into tears, while Bree rushed to Ed’s side. She pulled off her sweater and pressed it to the widening red spot on his abdomen. Meanwhile, Margot’s mind had gone utterly blank as she grappled with the reality of what was happening. Logan was a killer, and he’d just shot Ed.
“Where’s he hit?”
“Stomach, I think.”
“What should we do?”
She should have been crying like Olivia, or angry like Bree, but instead it was as if all of her emotion had drained away, leaving just her brain. The chaos and noise sounded distant and far away as Margot bent down and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the gun.
She expected it to feel hot to the touch since it had just been fired, but it was surprisingly cool. And heavy. She’d never held a gun before, but she could see how easily it fit in her hand, how well-designed, how simple it would be just to aim and pull the trigger.
Logan stood at the top of the landing and reached down toward Margot. “Give me the gun.”
Instead, Margot swung around, aiming it up at him. He looked confused, almost hurt, then his face softened. “Come with me, Margot.”
“Margot,” Kitty said. “Don’t listen to him.”
“We can leave together.”
“Margot, please,” Olivia sobbed.
Margot looked at her friends, huddled on the ground around Ed’s body.
“They’re not your friends,” Logan said, as if he could read every thought that passed through her mind. He stood very still, blocking the exit. “But I am. I love you. And I know you love me.”
She did. She truly did. She’d never felt as alive in her entire life as she did when she was with him. His presence was calming, his strength addictive. She’d been able to stand up to Amber, stand up to her parents. For the first time, she felt as if she had the strength to take control of her life.
“Yes, I love you,” Margot said.
“Margot,” Bree said. “Don’t do this.”
“He’s a killer!” Olivia cried.
Margot merely smiled. “I’m going to make you so happy,” she said.
Then she raised the gun and fired.
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FORTY-EIGHT
LOGAN DIDN’T MOVE. HIS BODY DIDN’T RECOIL, HIS HANDS didn’t fly to the wound. He didn’t blink, didn’t waver, didn’t utter a word. He just stared at Margot, the smile slowly fading from his face. His eyes went glassy, and then he simply collapsed onto the landing. His body shuddered once, and was still.
“I’m sorry,” Margot whispered, her throat so constricted she barely made a sound.
She felt Kitty’s hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Margot tore her eyes away from Logan’s motionless body. “Yes,” she said. And she meant it. She placed the gun in Kitty’s hand.
“You scared the shit out of us,” Bree said.
Margot smiled out of the side her mouth. “Sorry.” Her eyes strayed to Ed, his head cradled in Olivia’s lap. She crouched next to him on the floor, taking his hand gently in her own. His eyes fluttered open and he forced an easy smile, but his skin was unnaturally pale.
“He’s losing a lot of blood,” Bree said. The sweater she held to Ed’s wound glistened, utterly soaked.
“My fault,” Ed said. “This is all my fault.”
“Don’t talk,” Margot said.
“John’s getting help,” Kitty added. “You’re going to be fine.”
Ed shook his head. “I need to explain.” He pushed himself up on his elbow, wincing with the effort. His right hand, fingers streaked with blood, crept toward his jacket pocket. He fumbled blindly, then pulled away. In his hands, he held a corner of paper that looked as if it had been torn away from a larger sheet.
Margot lifted the scrap of paper from his hands. Words were printed on one side, and she recognized them right away. “The last scene of Twelfth Precinct.” She glanced down at Ed. “This is from my prompter’s script.”
Ed nodded, and motioned for her to turn the page over. As she did, she found another set of words. These were handwritten.
“‘Keep your mouth shut,’” she read aloud, “‘or next time she dies.’”
A memory stirred. Margot was watching Logan on stage, dancing with Olivia in the finale. He was all smiles, until he saw something in the audience and the smile dropped. He looked scared. “Logan saw you the night of the show. Saw you arrive at the theater.”
Ed nodded. “He must have thought I found out that he’d been at Archway too. He managed to sneak backstage. When I got there I found this note beside your . . .” His voice trailed off.
“You’re going to be all right,” Olivia said. Tears streamed down her face. “Just rest, okay? You’re going to be fine.”
Ed closed his eyes. “I was trying to protect Margot and I thought I could deal with the killer on my own. Then the photo . . .” Ed’s eyes flew open, his face pinched. “Margot?”
“I’m here,” she said, leaning closer to him.
Ed smiled. “He sent me a photo. In the envelope.”
Kitty laid her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Logan threatened to destroy what we loved,” she explained.
“But he screwed up,” Ed continued. “I could see his reflection in the photo. I tried to keep everyone safe. Called 911, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“I had that problem, too,” Bree said.
“So I pulled the fire alarm, then I went looking for Logan. Only—” Ed was interrupted by a violent cough. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. Thundering footsteps pounded overhead. The authorities had arrived.
“Ed?” Margot cried. “Hold on. You hear me? Don’t give up.”
“But you’re safe . . . now. I am considerably . . . out of . . .”
Ed’s head lolled to the side as John led the paramedics down the stairs.
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FORTY-NINE
IT FELT STRANGE TO BE BACK IN THE COMPUTER LAB.
Kitty looked around the windowless classroom. On the surface, it was just like old times. Margot sat in front of a computer, her fingers flying deftly over the keys. Bree had tilted her chair back and propped up her legs on a desk while she steadfastly chipped away at whatever flecks of polish still remained on her fingernails. And Olivia was late.
One by one they’d slipped away from the melee down at the gym. After Logan, Ed, and the former DGM victims had been rushed away by paramedics, the girls had each been questioned by a very confused and distraught Sergeant Callahan, called in on his off day in the wake of the shootings. And once they had been released, they had made a beeline to their old meeting place.
Footsteps hurried down the hall and Kitty whisked the door open before Olivia could knock.
“Sorry!” Olivia said, her voice breathless. “Sergeant Callahan was asking like a million questions about what we were doing in the boiler room with Logan.”
Kitty arched an eyebrow. “And what did you tell him?”
“Same as we discussed. We each got an envelope threatening to hurt someone we cared about if we didn’t show up at the gym today.”
“Do you think he bought it?”
Olivia scrunched her mouth up to the side. “Not sure. He wanted to believe our story, but I’m not sure he’s been able to wrap his head around it yet.”
“Should be pretty open and shut,” Bree said. “Since Logan confessed to everything before they rushed him to the hospital.”
“True,” Kitty said. For some inexplicable reason, Logan had insisted on speaking to the police before the EMTs loaded him into the ambulance. He’d then confessed to the murders, atta
cking Margot, and arson at the warehouse. He claimed to be using the DGM name to commit the crimes and even said he threatened Bree into a false confession, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Why did he take responsibility?” Olivia asked. “Why not expose us instead of protecting our connection to DGM?”
Kitty shook her head. “I have no idea.” She eyed Margot, who steadfastly stared at the computer screen. She was hacking into the hospital’s admittance database. “Any updates?”
Margot shook her head. “No.”
What was she feeling? Of all of them, she’d been through the most. Should she ask how she was doing? Offer to talk whenever she felt like it? Or just let her grieve in silence until she was ready to discuss?
Margot’s face was a blank slate, no hint of fear or loss. Maybe that was how she coped with her pain: she muscled it aside until it lost its sting.
She closed out of the hospital site and switched to the Menlo Park Police Department’s website. “Donté, Mika, Theo, and Peanut have all been released from custody,” she said after a few clicks of the mouse.
Olivia laughed. “What I wouldn’t give to have seen the look on Peanut’s face when they booked her into juvie.”
“But juvie’s so much fun!” Bree said with sarcastic enthusiasm. She rolled her foot in a circle, wiggling the GPS tracker. “The wardrobe, the company, the culinary delights.”
“Thank you,” Kitty said to Bree in all seriousness. “For what you did.”
Bree shrugged it off. “It was nothing.”
“No,” Olivia said. “It wasn’t.”
Bree dropped her eyes to her lap in embarrassment.
Margot abruptly spun around in her seat. “So the question is,” she said, in her usual matter-of-fact way, “does DGM stay together or not?”
Kitty blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I . . . I don’t know.”
“We did what we set out to do,” Olivia said.
“Maybe it’s time to walk away,” Bree added.
Margot arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want that?”
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