by Fox, Logan
I don’t know, officer. I don’t fucking know.
But it’s not the truth, is it? It’s a thinly veiled attempt at a lie.
I know what I saw that morning when I woke up beside Jess. There’s no denying that I took her virginity. And if she didn’t consent then it’s rape.
But is it still a crime if I don’t remember doing anything? What if I slipped into some kind of a fugue state or something? Veroza would back me up on this — that shit’s real. When your brain chemistry gets unbalanced enough, shit goes down. Shit you wouldn’t remember, even under hypnosis.
But it doesn’t add up. I wasn’t mentally unbalanced. I was happy as fuck.
Fuck it, I was in love with Jessica. I used to wake feeling like the sun had risen solely to bake me in its beatific rays.
So why would I have fucked out like that? Could it have been the drugs? I’d only done coke once before, and I was on my sixth line when Marcus and I took Jess upstairs to go lie down.
My intentions had been pure, too. I wasn’t even thinking about sex. All I wanted was to get Jess somewhere quiet.
Because I was worried about her.
Why was I worried about her? She’d gotten trashed before. We both had. But something was wrong that night. Something—
“You don’t want your face to get stuck like that.”
I glance at Indi, and for a moment I have no idea what to say because my thoughts scatter away like marbles on a mirrored floor.
Her eyebrows draw together. “You okay?”
I hurriedly look back at the road. I had too many tokes on that joint — I feel woozy and lazy and fucking crazy.
And I’m rhyming. That can’t be a good sign.
I eventually get out a far from reassuring, “Sure.”
Don’t look at her. Those hypnotic eyes. That expressive mouth. Keep your eyes on the goddamn road.
“You really don’t remember anything?”
Just like Addy, with the constant questions, the nagging, non-fucking-stop. I’ve told her more than I’ve told anyone except Marcus, and she still wants more?
“Drop it,” I snap.
I catch her flinching from the corner of my eye, but I bite back the apology brimming on my lips. I’ve done months’s worth of thinking and theorizing on this shit. I’m not gonna keep giving myself grief over it.
It’s over.
Whatever happened, happened.
If there’s still some karmic debt for me to pay, then I’ll pay when the universe is good and ready for me.
Indi licks her lips, and I narrow my eyes as if that will somehow diminish my peripheral vision. It doesn’t. If anything, it intensifies it. She sits back in her seat, and I can clearly see her breasts pushing against her shirt.
God, I can so vividly recall every curve of her body gleaming with water. How her back arched and the sound she made when she rubbed herself out on the rim of the bath.
I shift, tugging at my slacks as my dick starts hardening.
I should just have fucked her back there in Addy’s yard. Would have been done with all these thoughts, done with her filling every inch of my mind, done with losing control.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel.
Thoughts blur through my mind.
There’s a camping spot a few miles ahead, if I take the next turn off. I can strip Indi naked, shove her in the backseat of my car, and fuck her till I’m done and finished with her.
Till she’s begging me to stop.
Did Jessica beg for me to stop? Did she scream?
I should remember something like that, right? How could I not remember that?
My hand dips down to the indicator, but before I can signal to turn, my phone vibrates in my console. One glance is enough to see the short message on my lock screen.
$250,000.
My heart stops for a second, and then slams against my ribs like a wild animal trying to get out.
Marcus was right.
She’s desperate for money.
“That’s a lot of dough,” Indi says, her voice light. “You buying a new car or something?”
My jaw bunches. I put both hands back on the steering wheel and keep heading for Lavish Prep.
“When did you last speak to her?”
“Addy?” Indi shrugs. “Yesterday afternoon.”
“She say anything about me?”
Indi pauses for the longest time. “She always says stuff about you.”
I grind my teeth. “Anything specific?”
Indi shakes her head. “No.”
She’s lying, but I’m not surprised. She’s always been on Addison’s side. Maybe she even knows about the messages.
Was that what this was? Was she trying to find out if I was going to bend over so Addison can fuck me up the ass? She was reluctant to go to Addy’s house, but it could have been part of the act. She probably already knew Addison wasn’t there, or wouldn’t answer.
Are they both setting me up?
I should pull over and kick her out of my fucking car. She can walk back to Lavish, and get extra detention days tacked onto her sentence.
Or…
I reach across and lay my hand on her leg. She twitches, but doesn’t move her leg away.
No girl in their right mind would let me touch them. Not unless they had some kind of ulterior motive. My mind scrambles, the weed helping fuck all. But by the time we pull into Lavish Prep’s parking lot, something akin to a plan is swilling around in my head.
“This was fun,” I say as I pull into my parking spot.
“Yeah,” Indi says, not skipping a beat. She turns to me, and there’s a moment where her face is blank before she smiles at me. She moves forward a quarter of an inch, and her lips part.
I could call her out on this ruse of hers, let her know I have her all figured out. Or I can play along, and toy with her until I’m done.
Leaning in, I stop just close enough that my breath whispers over her mouth. “Addison’s gonna be pissed off if she sees us together.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
She’s a good actress, my little virgin. I almost want to believe her. I touch my lips to hers.
One tender kiss, so soft my lips are left tingling sulkily when I draw back.
Indi’s eyes flutter open, her pupils narrowing like she’s coming down from E. She licks her lips and hurriedly sits back in her seat.
“But—” Indi pauses, clears her throat, “we should probably not let her find out. You know. Manners and shit.”
Yeah, manners and shit.
I smirk at her and tip an invisible hat. “See you around, my little virgin.”
Indi’s already pink cheeks darken, and she drops her gaze. Her mouth opens, but she slides out of my car without saying another word.
My eyes drop to my phone. I unlock it and stare at Addison’s message.
$250,000.
I let out a low laugh, pressing my eyes closed with my fingertips. I didn’t even have to negotiate with her. Maybe if I let her stew longer, she’ll end up settling for a few bucks and a goddamn confession.
* * *
Indi
My head feels like the teacup ride at an amusement park.
I don’t fucking know.
Yeah, right, you fucking psychopath.
It’s so easy for them to turn off emotion — because they’re only pretending at it. I got to see the real Briar today. It was a spectacular revelation, and he played his part to perfection.
I don’t fucking know.
I let out a bitter laugh as I push open the school door. First bell must have just rung, because there are only a handful of students hurrying down the hall.
Except one.
He’s not hurrying.
Marcus ambles over to me like he has all the time in the world.
Instead of speeding up, my body slows like I’m trudging through a snowdrift.
He stops walking.
And so do I.
We’re only a few feet away
from each other, still his hatred washes over me like an icy wave.
He knows I know.
He saw me last night.
He’s going to—
Marcus stares straight at me until I hear the door whoosh open again behind me, then his eyes dart past me. “There you are,” he says, before his eyes are on me again.
“Here I am,” Briar says. He walks right past me, even knocking my arm with his as if he’s suddenly gone blind in one eye.
Marcus’s gaze dashes back to me, but then Briar has his arm around his shoulder, swiveling him around.
“You’re stoned,” Marcus says, frowning at Briar.
They could have been brothers with their long legs and narrow waists.
Blood brothers.
Goosebumps break out on my arms, I turn and hurry the other way. If I’m fast enough, I can make it to homeroom before Briar and avoid seeing Marcus again. Avoid his aura of penetrating evil from touching me.
I’m still reeling when I arrive at Ms. Parson’s class. I slip into my seat by the door and draw out a notebook, flipping it to a random page. I put my head down and start doodling like my life depends on it, desperate to untangle the spaghetti-mess of thoughts clumped in my head.
I don’t get very far.
My phone starts vibrating with an incoming call. When I see the name on the screen, my fingertips start tingling.
Addy.
I could take it in the hallway — there are still a few minutes before the second bell — but that might mean bumping into Briar on his way in. Possibly seeing Marcus again too, depending on where his homeroom is.
Instead, I take a quick look around, turn in my chair, and put my phone to my ear.
“Hey, you okay?” I say.
“I guess,” Addy replies in a thick voice, like she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just…family stuff.” Fabric rustles against the speaker. “Listen, I’m not coming to school today, but Maxine told me Dylan’s throwing a party.”
A party? The fuck do I care?
“Addy, do you have something on Briar?”
But she ignores the question and keeps on talking right over me.
“You should try to get in. I know I said I didn’t like your plan but…I think it’s the only one that’ll work. I’ll see if I can work something out but—”
“Addy. Addy, listen—”
“—I might be gone for a few days, so I don’t know if—”
“Indi?” At the sound of Ms. Parson’s attempt at a stern voice, my stomach drops.
Dammit.
I end the call and slip my phone into my pocket. When I turn around, Ms. Parsons is a few feet from my desk, arms crossed and her rosebud mouth puckered tight.
“No phones in my class,” she says, enunciating every word with utter precision. “Understand me?”
Holy crap, I’m obviously not in her good books anymore, am I?
“Sorry, Ms. Parsons.”
She lifts her chin, shakes her head, and mutters, “I’m so disappointed in you,” as she walks away.
I glare at her. She was the one who suggested the fucking horse rides. What the fuck did she think would happen? Naive little—
“Don’t want your face getting stuck that way, Angel.”
My eyes snap up and track Briar as he saunters past my table. For a heart-stopping moment, I think he’s going to sit behind me. But he winds his way through the aisles and takes his seat in the far back of the class without making eye contact with me again.
I sink back in my seat and run Addy’s conversation through my head. When the second bell rings, I almost jump out of my fucking skin. As soon as Ms. Parsons starts reading out the announcements, I smuggle my phone out of my pocket and send her a text.
Do you have evidence against Briar?
I wait, glancing up every millisecond to make sure Ms. Parson’s doesn’t catch me on my phone and decide to confiscate it.
My message sends but, by the end of homeroom, it still hasn’t been delivered to Addy’s phone. It’s not even half an hour’s wait, but those minutes could have been an eternity. A very special kind of hell that I barely survive.
As soon as I’m out the door, the bell for the next period still clanging in my ears, I’m on the phone to Addy.
My call goes straight to voice mail.
What the fuck?
I might be gone for a while…
My mind races back to everything I heard Briar and Marcus discussing last night at the church. Is her family’s business really in jeopardy? She never said she was having problems—
What, in the handful of days you’ve known her? Shocking how private people can be about money.
I laugh quietly at myself as I head for Psychology. I’m so lost in my own thoughts, it takes me a full minute to realize someone’s following me like a second shadow.
When I glance over my shoulder, Briar gives me one of his smirky grins. “What up, Angel?”
I face forward and speed up, but I’m a cat trying to outrun a cheetah. Briar skips ahead and stops in front of me. When I try to detour around him, he slides an arm out to stop me. When I try to go the other way, he does the same with his other arm.
Boxing me in with my back to the wall.
Students stream past, and none of them seem the least bit interested in my predicament.
“What do you want?” I ask, and realize my voice isn’t anything approaching sexy or seductive, which is a problem. I don’t have enough information to change tactics, not yet. Until I can get hold of Addy again, I have to keep up pretenses. I try fluttering my lashes, but I’m not sure if it works.
Briar leans in a little. “You’re joining me for lunch.”
I tamp down an automatic protest, and give him a coquettish smile. “Oh, sure. Wonderful.”
His smile cracks a bit, but then he hitches it up even higher. He grabs my chin, tilts my head back, and plants a chaste kiss on my mouth.
Even that brief contact ignites my body like a fourth of July firework special.
I’m still blinking at his retreating form when I realize I must look like a complete moron, and push away from the wall.
Lunch. Perfect. I can study Briar in his natural environment, perhaps figure out who else in his crooked brood may have had a part in Jessica’s murder.
I hardly feel stoned anymore, but as I’m about to step into Psych, I feel eyes on me again.
I want to dismiss it as paranoia, but it’s too strong. I pause outside the class, take a step back to study the number above the door as if checking if I’m at the right class. Then I slowly pan my gaze left and right, taking another step back.
I don’t think my theatrics fool Marcus though. For one, he doesn’t seem to care that I know he’s watching me.
Secondly, when our eyes lock, he gives me a smile that makes my skin crawl. He purses his lips and pantomimes a kiss before turning on his heel and walking away.
I’m so shocked I can’t move.
What the hell was that? Why would he—?
A hand closes on my shoulder. I gasp and whirl around in fright.
Mr. Veroza studies me for a moment. When he opens his mouth, I’m sure it’s to ask how my relationship with my father was.
“Class has begun, Ms. Virgo.”
I nod and hurry inside. As I turn to take my seat, my eyes just happen to lock with Briar’s.
No, it wasn’t an accident. He was glaring at the door, waiting for me to come in.
And when I sit, I can still feel his eyes on me.
Why do I suddenly regret poking the tiger?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Briar
I smile to myself as Indi takes her seat in Psych, looking flustered as fuck. Would never have thought a simple invitation to have lunch would have put such uncertainty in those green eyes of hers, but I guess there’s a lot I don’t know and can’t fathom about her. Like how on earth she thinks her attempts at playing dumb are going unnoticed.
It’s hilarious that she thinks fluttering her eyelashes at me will make me forget who she’s friends with, or how much I’ve told her. How much she knows.
I don’t get the point of this elaborate cat and mouse game, but I’m willing to play along until I grow bored enough to end it. And since I can’t get hold of Addison, Indi might be the only way I can figure out how damning the evidence is against me.
I watch her through the rest of the lesson, and from the way she keeps squirming and doing her best not to look around, I know I’m getting under her skin.
I don’t want to chat with her in class, not unless I know a teacher won’t interrupt us, but it’s taking everything I have to keep my cool until lunch.
By the time that bell rings, I feel ready to run a goddamn marathon. I throw my stuff in my locker, watching for Indi to come down the hall, but I don’t see her. I linger for a minute or two, and then head for the cafeteria.
Fuck it, I’ll wait for her there.
Ten minutes into lunch, it’s obvious she’s not coming.
Chicken shit little bitch. Honest to God, I didn’t peg her for such a coward.
“…haven’t R.S.V.P.’d, Briar?”
My attention swarms back to the present as I turn blank eyes to Dylan. “What?”
“My party, man. You gotta like—” Dylan waves a hand “—RSVP and shit.”
I almost roll my eyes, but manage to stop myself. He always takes these things too damn seriously. “Yeah, don’t think I’ll make it.”
“What? Why?”
I shrug, and start scanning the cafeteria again.
“Looking for someone?” Marcus asks. I glance over at him, and then down at his food. He hasn’t touched it and, judging from the way he’s toying with his fork, there are no immediate plans in his future involving the consumption of that congealing Al Fredo.
I shrug. “Wondering if Addison was gonna show.”
I’d texted him earlier about Addy’s new message, but he’d never even responded. Maybe he meant what he’d said about letting me sort my own shit out. I’d hate to have to remind him that what he did, he did on his volition. He’s been in a pissy mood again lately. Could be more shit at home — wouldn’t surprise me in the least. I have a feeling if I ask after his dad he’ll just fly off the handle. I don’t want to straight-up invite him for a sleepover — we’re fucking dudes, we don’t do that shit — but he needs to know he’s welcome to crash, even if we’re spitting mad at each other.