Whoever it was… they were watching me.
3
Hunter
I found you, bitch.
I finally fucking found you…
In my mind, Laney Collins was pinned against an old stone column in an abandoned building, far away from prying eyes. One of my hands was tangled in her messy dark hair while the other roughly held her by her throat. I had one knee between her semi-spread thighs, pushing down hard and rubbing against her pussy. Despite that positioning, and the fact that she possessed one of the most beautiful faces I’d ever seen, there was no lust or desire in this imaginary moment. Only vengeful fervor.
Those mesmerizing green eyes of hers were tinged with red and clouded with tears, and she was squirming up against me, plump lips spitting out a few weak insults before she crumbled pathetically and begged me to let her go.
I wanted her to keep going. Keep writhing around. Keep fighting. Keep begging for mercy and forgiveness. It would only make it that much sweeter when I refused.
I squeezed her throat harder. “Why did you do it?” I hissed through gritted teeth.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered back, fear darkening her eyes.
She said the same thing every time, because right now, this confrontation only existed in my mind. I probably wouldn’t have any real answers from her for a long time. Not until I forced them out of her.
A knock at my bedroom door disturbed me from my dark fantasy. The images of Laney struggling against me faded into dust as I opened my eyes, and I grunted out one word. “What?”
“It’s Burgin. The maid let me in downstairs.”
David Burgin was an investigator at one of my father’s companies. He had a reputation for being quite morally-challenged—that was probably the kindest way to describe it—and that made him the perfect person to go to for help when I needed information under the table.
I pushed off my bed and opened the door, taking in his sweaty face and paunchy belly through narrowed eyes. “You got what I asked for?”
“Yes.”
“Took you long enough.”
Burgin rolled his eyes. “You said you wanted a full write-up and investigation of her habits. That shit takes time. You’re lucky I didn’t make you wait four months.”
“Fair enough.”
He rubbed a droplet of sweat off his forehead. “So are you gonna let me in?”
I stepped aside to let him enter my room. He let out a low whistle as he looked around with an appraising eye. “Wish I had a setup like this when I was a kid. What is it, a thousand square feet? Two thousand?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never measured it. You could ask my father, though.”
“That would involve telling him that I’m here, and then I’d have to tell him why,” he replied, arching one eyebrow in a pointed manner. He poked his head around one of the corners that led to the black marble-tiled bathroom. “Jesus, you’d never even have to leave this place if you didn’t want to. It’s bigger than most apartments.”
I crossed my arms. “Did you just come to check out my bedroom, or do you actually have the shit I asked for?”
He reached inside his jacket. “Here,” he said, pulling out a manila folder. I reached over to grab it, but he yanked it back. “Uh-uh. Payment first. You rich Royal Falls pricks are always the ones who try to weasel out of it, so I know better than to hand over any shit until I’ve got my share.”
I rolled my eyes and strode over to my desk. “You know, this would’ve been a lot easier if you let me Venmo it to you,” I said, reaching into my top drawer for the envelope of cash I’d stashed in there a few days ago. “Who the fuck actually uses cash anymore?”
“Lots of people,” Burgin replied. “Especially those who don’t want anyone knowing what they’re up to.”
I let out a short, dry chuckle. “So you actually managed to keep this on the down-low?”
“Yup. Trust me. Your dad has no idea what you’re up to. Neither do I, for that matter,” he said, brows furrowing. “What does this Laney girl mean to you?”
Hearing her name spoken out loud sent a raw, angry heat crawling up my neck. My upper lip curled. “Like I said when I hired you: it’s none of your business.”
He let out a snort. “Let me guess. You’re so bored with having everything handed to you that you’ve decided to become a serial killer to satisfy that urge for even more power. And like that Dexter guy, you need to stalk all your victims first. Make sure they’re worthy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off.”
“Hey, hey, I was just kidding,” he said, holding up a conciliatory palm. “Anyway, let me know if you want me to keep going after today. I think there’s enough there, though. She doesn’t deviate from her patterns all that much.”
“Okay. Cool.”
He hesitated for a moment, rubbing his chin. “There is one thing, though….”
“What?”
“When I ran her name through the databases, I could see that she was involved in some sort of legal matter when she was about thirteen or fourteen. The case file is all sealed, though. Pretty standard in this state when young kids are involved in legal stuff, as a protective measure.”
“Right. So she did something?”
“I don’t think so. No juvenile criminal record, sealed or otherwise. Just the case file. So it’s more likely that something happened to her, and it went to court. Knowing what Silvercreek is like, she probably got mugged walking home from school, and they were lucky enough to catch the prick who did it.”
“Can you find out exactly what it was? Or would you need a court order for that?”
His forehead wrinkled. “Usually it would require a court order, yes. I could find out through some not-so-legal means, but it would probably take a few days.”
I frowned and pinched the bridge of my nose as I considered it. “You say she was just a kid?”
“Basically, yeah. It was almost four years ago.”
I waved a hand. “Probably not relevant, then. But I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
“All right. Easy.”
I reached into my pocket to pull out some extra cash. “Here,” I said, handing it over. “A little extra for your discretion.”
Burgin laughed as he took it and stashed it in his pocket with the rest. “You’re more like your father than you know.”
He left, and I took the folder and emptied the contents onto my bed. It was filled with copies of basic documents about Laney and her life. Birth certificate, school records, driver’s license, phone bills, and so on.
She attended Silvercreek High, one of the shittiest schools in the state—no surprise there—and she lived in a small shingled house on the west side of town with her mother, Ava Collins. Also, according to Burgin’s notes, she had a little brown dog named Mignon.
At least she told me the truth about one thing.
I set the paperwork aside for now and moved on to the photos. Burgin had trailed her for the last six weeks to get an idea of her patterns, and he’d laid out a sad but clear pattern in the pictures he took.
Every morning, Laney woke up at half past six and took the dog out for a run in the woods behind her house. There was a small park on the other side of those woods, and she would let the little terrier play fetch with a stick there for about fifteen minutes before heading back home.
She was a dutiful owner who always took a plastic bag and little green scoop to clean up after the dog if it decided to use the park as a toilet. Such a minor thing, because most dog owners around here did that too, but it still stuck out to me like a sore thumb. From what I knew about Laney already, she didn’t seem like the kind of person who would give a fuck about cleaning up after herself when there was no chance of being seen or caught.
Frowning, I kept looking through the photos. On weekends, she worked at the diner on Silvercreek’s main avenue. Another truth she’d told me at the party several weeks ago. I guess she only lied when she needed
to.
Her uniform at the diner was a short blue retro waitress dress which perfectly accentuated the curve of her small waist. Jesus. If she worked in Royal Falls in an outfit like that, she’d go home with three hundred dollars in tips every day from all the drooling trust fund assholes she served. Hell, if I didn’t know anything about her before I saw these photos, I’d probably salivate over her just as much as her customers probably did.
Fortunately, I knew better.
I kept going. On weekdays, Laney went to school early every morning, and from what Burgin had seen, she always holed herself up in the library until classes started. She didn’t seem to have many friends, which came as no surprise to me.
When school closed for summer vacation four weeks ago, her patterns didn’t change much. She still worked at the diner on weekends, and she still got up early every morning to hang out with the dog. Then she went and holed herself up in the Silvercreek Community Library on the other side of town. She stayed there most of the day before going home to cook dinner for her mom, who usually got home later than her.
That was basically her whole life. How fucking dull.
I picked up a photo which contained a clear shot of her face. Heat rushed through me as I stared down at her delicate features, pouty lips, and wide green eyes. Even with no makeup on, I had to admit she stomped all over the girls in Royal Falls. Those girls tried fucking hard, too. Nose jobs at sixteen, lip fillers at seventeen. Makeup and styled hair every day, along with designer outfits and accessories.
None of it mattered. No amount of money, surgery, or makeup could make a person physically outshine someone else who was lucky enough to be naturally gorgeous. Life was unfair like that. Always had been, always would be. Bad things could happen to good people, and good things could happen to those who deserved it the least.
I knew that all too well.
I narrowed my eyes as I turned the photo sideways in my hand, analyzing every angle of Laney’s face. How could someone so beautiful and innocent-looking on the outside be so twisted and ugly on the inside? It honestly blew my fucking mind. Monsters were supposed to be hideous, hulking creatures shrouded in darkness. Not sweet, petite girls with smooth skin and bright eyes who waltzed around in the sun with a shy smile on their face for anyone who passed them by.
I dropped the picture and squeezed my hands into tight fists as I pictured Laney in my mind again. This time she was tied to the imaginary stone column in her underwear, the rope lashed around her so tightly that it dug into her soft, warm flesh, leaving raw red marks all over her. She proclaimed her innocence and ignorance as long as she could, but when I leaned down and whispered in her ear, she finally knew how pointless it was to keep pretending. I know what you did, little whore, and soon, everyone else will know too.
That was when she broke in all of my fantasies about her. She stopped crying and trying to break free, knowing it was useless, and then she went limp and gave herself over to me. She knew she had no choice. She wasn’t a person anymore. Just an object for me to manipulate at my will until I was finally done with her. Exposed, ruined, and discarded.
“What’s that?”
I whipped my head around to see my brother Adam frowning at me from my now-open door. He was a year younger than me, smart as hell, and perpetually nosy.
“How many fucking times have I told you to knock?” I said, nostrils flaring as I hastily gathered up the papers and photographs and shoved them back in the file.
He trudged over to me. “Sorry. I forgot.” His head tipped to one side as he looked down at my bed. “Who’s that?”
I followed the direction of his gaze. Three of the Laney photos had slipped out of the pile and dropped back onto the bed. One of them had a view of her jogging down the path behind her house, fine round ass popping in tight gray leggings, and the other two showed her at work in the diner.
“Just some girl.”
He laughed and snatched up the photos before I could grab them. “What the fuck is this shit? Are you stalking her?”
“No. I just asked David Burgin to find her for me, that’s all. He went a little overboard.”
Adam raised a brow and hit me with a barrage of questions. “Why did you ask him? Who is she? And why couldn’t you find her yourself?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line. It was none of his fucking business—at least not yet—but I had to come up with something to allay his suspicions, because having these photos of her didn’t exactly make me look good.
“She was at the RFA alumni party we hosted last month. I was gonna ask her out, but she disappeared. Must’ve left early.”
Adam’s brows stayed high. “Why not just look on the online yearbook to find her?”
“She wasn’t an RFA student. She was one of the waitresses Dad hired.”
“Well, you could’ve just asked him to tell you who she is,” he said, pointing out the blindingly-obvious. Smart-ass.
“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want to bother him on his business trip over some girl. You know how he gets when he’s caught up with stuff.”
“True.” Adam nodded slowly and twisted his lips into a smirk. “Well, good luck. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you hired a private investigator to track her down for you. It’s not creepy at all.”
“Ha-fucking-ha. What do you want, anyway?”
“I came to ask if I could borrow your car.”
I blinked. “What’s wrong with yours?”
“It won’t start.”
“So fix it. You’re good at that shit, aren’t you?” I said.
“Yeah, usually, but I can’t figure this one out,” he replied. “I asked one of the maids to call someone to take a look at it, but they aren’t here yet, and I have to go.”
“Take an Uber.”
He frowned. “I don’t want to. I hate sitting in a car with a total stranger.”
“Right. And you say I’m the weird one,” I said, rolling my eyes as I leaned over to my nightstand. “Where are you going?”
“Having lunch with Trina at the Boathouse Café.”
I stiffened. “You still hang out with her?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just thought you’d stop, ever since…” I trailed off and waved a hand. “Never mind. Here.” I grabbed my car keys and tossed them over to him.
“Thanks.”
“Have it back by five. I’m going out tonight.”
He gave me a tight smile. “Okay,” he said. “Have fun with your little waitress when you finally track her down.”
Oh, I will, I thought to myself, lips curving into a genuine smile at the thought.
I couldn’t wait to see Laney again. I hoped she wouldn’t be expecting any niceties, or even a shred of humanity, though. Anyone who knew me knew I was no saint, especially when it came to anyone who crossed me or my family.
When we crossed paths again—and we would, for sure—I was going to break her down until she was a mere shadow of a human being. Slowly but thoroughly, I would destroy every aspect of her life. Destroy her.
The smug little bitch had it coming, and the best part was that she had absolutely no idea. She thought she was so slick coming into my house like that the other night, and even when she realized who I was, she smiled and brazenly lied right to my face. She had no idea that I knew exactly what she did, or that I’d been searching for her for a long time now.
To be fair, I didn’t know I was searching for her either. I only knew I was searching for someone. Someone who needed to pay for their terrible actions.
It still shocked me that it turned out to be such a stunning, innocent-looking maid’s daughter who spent half her life with her nose buried in library books, but I guess it shouldn’t. After all, everyone knew that old saying. Still waters run deep.
I closed my eyes and lay back down with a tired grunt, returning to my fantasies about Laney for what must’ve been the thousandth time since I met her si
x weeks ago. My mind drifted back to thoughts of hurting her. Giving her exactly what she deserved; forcing her to her knees where she belonged.
She obviously thought she got away with everything she did, but I was going to prove her wrong. Oh-so fucking wrong.
It wouldn’t be long now.
A few more months, and she’d be completely at my mercy….
4
Laney
With a yawn, I stretched my tired legs and leaned back on the bench outside Tom’s Diner, savoring the last few minutes of my twenty minute lunch break. We were usually quite busy in the summertime, selling milkshakes and banana splits, so for the last five hours, I’d been on my feet taking orders, cleaning tables, sweeping, and helping with the dishes in the kitchen when I had a spare moment between customers.
The diner was a faded old 50s-style establishment with black and white checkered flooring, a red wraparound counter, a glass case filled with cherry, blueberry, and blackberry pies, red faux leather booths, jukebox in one corner, and walls lined with faded memorabilia. The waitstaff wore vintage blue and white uniforms with little aprons, and the cook wore a white peaked cap and a little black bowtie over his buttoned linen shirt.
It was meant to be cool and retro, but to be honest, I’d always gotten a Twin Peaks vibe from the place instead. I spent half my weekends here coming up with imaginary scenarios in which Silvercreek wasn’t the dreariest, most run-down place in the state and the diner was actually a place that FBI agents came to sit in while they investigated creepy disappearances and shocking deaths with horrifying twists. It was silly, but it helped pass the time.
Tom—the ruddy-faced owner and cook—gave me a sympathetic smile as I finally headed back inside from my break and grabbed my apron. He never said this to my face, but I knew he felt sorry for me because I worked here every weekend instead of hanging out with my friends like most other teens in this town.
Twisted Elite: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Royal Falls Elite Prequel) Page 4