Your Heart Is Mine (Our Hearts Are Lost Book 1)

by Nicole Thorn

  I took my time driving back to the station. If the sheriff thought I took off early, I’d hear about it. Stopping off for a milkshake seemed to do the trick. I got strawberry because that was the best and only kind of milkshake anyone should ever have. I hoped it would distract me. I drank it as I pulled into the police department parking lot.

  Too many cars occupied the lot for this time of day. People should have been out, working on making this town safer, yet, I had to struggle for a parking spot. I parked all the way in the back and started on my long walk to get inside.

  People filled the station, and that should have been a sign that something had happened. They all huddled together, staring at something I couldn’t see yet. The sheriff sat on his desk, head hung.

  Pictures had been laid out on the desk, and I had to walk up to get a look at them. People blocked me. They all looked so blank as they stood there, useless. I wouldn’t be able to get a look at the pictures like this.

  I stared at the sheriff, waiting for him to let me know what they all pouted about. “Something happen?”

  A few eyes went to me, including the sheriff’s. He sighed, rubbing his hands down his knees. “Yeah, something happened. Got the call a few hours ago. I would have let you know if you weren’t with the kids.” He sighed one more time. “He did it again. The killer got ahold of some poor woman. Mother of three. Ripped her up stomach to chin.”

  I took another sip of my shake.

  CHAPTER FOUR:

  The Ripper

  Rocelyn

  I woke up too early due to a text from Bird. She bitched that her maid threw a dress into the dryer when it should’ve been dry-cleaned. I played the friend and acted outraged on her behalf. She seemed happy with the reaction, calling the poor woman a name and suggesting she get her deported.

  Texts continued coming in while I got ready. I stopped to answer them when I could, while trying not to be late. I threw on a pair of jeans and a tank top before I started pulling my boots on. I thought for a moment that I would get an actual call about the fucking dress, but the texts tapered off.

  My parents had left already. I’d gotten used to eating breakfast alone and I didn’t even mind anymore. I made a smoothie for one and nibbled on a piece of toast.

  After I finished, I locked up the house and went to my car. Since I had more time than I thought I would, I spent a couple minutes picking out the music I would play. I went with an old mix I’d gotten from my parents, because it would be perfection.

  Once I got to school, I parked as close to the front as I could. Clusters of kids milled about in the parking lot. None of them seemed to be laughing or making jokes. They all looked shaken up, and I thought I had to be missing something. One girl even stood talking to the deputy by the door. Huh. Every day they had one. I still didn’t know why. Maybe I should have asked sooner.

  I got out of my car and looked at the faces in the crowd. I spotted Bird’s car, but she and the girls couldn’t be seen. They must have headed inside already. Bird mentioned something about using the empty band room to hang out before class. I didn’t bother checking to see if she had gone there.

  I went past the students and got to my first class. A handful of students already there muttered amongst themselves, but I didn’t pay attention to them. Instead, I pulled out a book and started reading.

  About fifteen pages into the book, my teacher, Miss Finch, came up to my desk. She looked young and very, very pretty. The kind of pretty that made you feel less than just for being around it. She had long blonde hair tied into a bun, and glasses that sat on her perfectly straight nose. Her oval shaped face contained nothing but faultless features. Full lips, bright blue eyes, and shockingly white teeth. She wore heels and dresses to school, making sure she looked utterly impeccable for the day ahead. The heels tapped the floor as she stood across from me.

  “And how are we today?” She smiled grandly.

  I looked up from the book. “Good. Just trying to catch up on some reading.”

  Miss Finch leaned over, putting her chin in her hand. “Ah, I’ve read that one. I love the ending.” She pushed her arms together slightly, putting her cleavage up on a display so distracting that I almost couldn’t look away.

  “Hmm,” I mumbled uncomfortably. “That’s good.”

  Miss Finch sighed and it sounded overly feminine. “So with all the chaos of the last couple days, I haven’t really gotten to know you. I like to be friendly with my students, ya know. I want you all to feel like you could come to me with anything. Homework trouble. Boy trouble.” She laughed it off like that sounded silly. “Girl trouble. I mean, really, anything.”

  I nodded, feeling the deepest of creepy vibes. It felt like the poor woman might have just been a little lonely. Maybe she didn’t have all that many adult friends. The job must have taken up a lot of her time and left her constantly surrounded by teenagers.

  “That’s really nice of you. I don’t have any issues to speak of. Just moved here. Made a couple friends. Everything is going great.”

  She smiled again, wrinkling her nose. “No fellas yet?”

  I laughed. “No. Not a great idea. I’m leaving for college in a few months. I wouldn’t want anything serious.”

  Her smile changed to one I couldn’t figure out. Something twisted and tense. “Smart girl. Just have fun. You’re at the end of your senior year. I say, do what feels good.” She waved her hand. Then her tone got serious. “But do your homework. Pass your classes. If you need help, tell me.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She popped up and started walking to her desk, looking over her shoulder at me before she sat down.

  The students’ chatter became almost unbearable as the seats filled up. I kept hearing random words like ‘body’ and ‘blood’. Maybe they talked about some TV show they all watched, or a movie they saw? Whatever they talked over, it seemed to be interesting enough to keep going on about it.

  The bell rang and I put my book away, exchanging it for a notebook. I turned to a clean page and waited for the teacher to start. She moved around to the white board and picked up a bright red marker.

  “Cell development,” she started.

  One of the boys in the class groaned. “Are you kidding me? How are we supposed to focus today?”

  Miss Finch looked over her shoulder. “Ya try real hard.”

  The boy rolled his eyes. “Not a chance. We have to talk about it.”

  Miss Finch turned all the way around and put her hand on her hip. “We’re not allowed to encourage you kids to talk about it. It can traumatize some of our more sensitive students.”

  “Screw them.”

  Okay, this didn’t sound like a TV show. A noticeable change happened to the general vibe in the room, with some of the kids getting upset and uncomfortable, and some of them looking a little too excited. The boy that had interrupted seemed the most enthusiastic.

  “Come on…” He beamed like he’d won some contest. “…are we not gonna talk about Cruor County’s very own Hannibal the Cannibal?”

  Miss Finch tensed with a hard frown. “That is very disrespectful to the families that have lost loved ones. We’re not giving him any kind of nickname.”

  The kid smirked. “We already have a nickname for him, Miss Finch, and I think you know that.”

  She went from serious to angry as she gripped the back of her chair. “Knock it off, right now.”

  And he did.

  ****

  I didn’t get a chance to talk to anyone until lunchtime. The chatter still went on around me, and I tried to pick up on as much of it as I could. Sadly, I got almost nothing. Most of it sounded too insane to be real.

  I waited till we all sat down — minus the boys — to ask what the hell happened. The girls picked at their salads and I pushed my food around with a fork. “So,” I said. “Do you guys know anything about what everyone’s talking about? They keep saying there was a body.”

  Bird looked up at m
e, smirking. “Oh, you wanna know about The Ripper?”

  I did not like the sound of that. “Um, who’s that?”

  Her smile grew and she brushed her hands together. “All right, new girl, I’ll fill you in.” Her friends paid attention now, looking right at her. “A few months ago, some chick turned up dead maybe ten miles from here. It was real big news. Like two days of non-stop talking about her. She was sliced open, right across her stomach.” Bird drew a line on me with her finger. “Parts were missing. Liver, kidneys, a few other goodies. The assumption was that they fell out while the killer was transporting the body. She was dragged into the park and nailed to a tree.

  “But life goes on,” She sighed. “A couple weeks went by, and the case went cold. The cops didn’t have anything to go on. Everything was a dead end. They wrote it off as a pissed off ex getting some sick revenge. Then, another body showed up. This woman was hanging from a lamppost, sliced across the middle, and missing the same parts. Cops ruled it a serial killer after that. Every couple of weeks or so, a new girl turns up dead, missing parts and being displayed somewhere in public. They think The Ripper likes it when kids find them. Parks, schools, stuff like that.”

  I blinked and had to take a breath or two. “The… parts, why are they missing.”

  Bird leaned over and tucked one of my curls behind my ear. “Oh, he’s eating them.”

  “Stop that,” Rosita said. “You don’t know that. Everyone is just saying that because it sounds creepy. You freaks want to make this as gross as possible. It’s like you get off on it.”

  “Everyone needs a hobby. Sorry if some people like learning about murder cases.”

  “It’s in bad taste.”

  “You think the people he eats taste bad?” Bird chuckled.

  I felt the breath catch in my throat as my stomach did flips. “He’s…”

  “Eating them,” Bird repeated. “Yup. Chowing down on the populous. It’s pretty sick shit if you ask me.” Rosita smacked her arm for that one.

  I ran my fingers through my curls, trying to sound less frightened. “How close are they to catching him? They have to be close by now.”

  “Ask the woman who was hollowed out yesterday while we were in English class.” Hillary laughed.

  I did not join in on that laughter.

  “What…” I started. “W-What happened to this woman?”

  Bird started picking at her food. She stuck a leaf and shoved it into her mouth. Her eyes squinted. “If you wanna see the picture, ask Axel. His and Rosita’s mom is the medical examiner. He snuck in and snapped a few.”

  Rosita frowned. “Yeah, he forced me to look. They just stitched the lady up. It’s gruesome. Axel got some pictures of before and after. He’s charging five bucks to look, but he’ll probably let you peek for free.”

  “Free.” Bird did air quotes. “He might want a little date with you behind the C building, if you know what I mean.” She elbowed me, giving me an over exaggerated smile so I got the picture. Sadly, I did. I hoped she had been joking.

  Rosita shoved her shoulder. “Hey, I don’t wanna talk about my brother and his desperate need to get to the triple digits before twenty.”

  I ignored the conversation when my thoughts got too loud. This town had a killer, and no one seemed as terrified as they should have been. He might have eaten people. I could only hope that he killed them before the parts started coming out. But if this man could be sick enough to eat them, who knew?

  No part of me wanted to see those pictures. The fact that Axel did, and enough people had paid him, disgusted me. He was rich, like most of us. Why would he feel the need to do something so cold and disrespectful? Even for a teenage boy, that seemed like a bit much.

  Bird shook my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. The killer only goes after women.” She giggled when she released me.

  They laughed, like it had been funny. People had been tortured and murdered, and they laughed it off like we lived in some cheesy slasher movie. This was real life, with real people dying. How could they not see that?

  I couldn’t eat anymore. Not with… all of this. I stood up with my tray in my hands. Bird looked up. “Where are you going?” The accusation in her voice would have normally stopped me..

  I came up with a lie. “I forgot, I was supposed to pick up some of the classwork I missed. If I don’t do it now, the teacher will get pissy.”

  Bird rolled her eyes. “I fucking hate all the teachers. Don’t they know we all have lives? Speaking of, I have someone I think you’ll like. One of my friends wanted to talk to you. Hit me up later.”

  I agreed reluctantly and left everyone with a wave. No one watched, so I snuck off campus. Not far, just to where I saw a homeless man sitting. I handed him my food and he looked at me like was an actual angel had descended from the heavens. He thanked me, and I wished him a good day.

  Since class didn’t start for a while, I needed a place to hide. My car sounded appealing, but I could be spotted there. I figured a classroom would be a safer place.

  When I got to Miss Finch’s room, I knocked lightly until I heard her call me in. She graded papers at her desk while she ate lunch.

  “Rocelyn, so nice to see you.” She waved me in. “Come on. You can sit right up here.” She pointed to the desk closest to her.

  I took the seat. “Sorry, I didn’t have anywhere to wait out my next class.”

  She waved her hand again. “Not a problem. You guys are always welcomed in here anytime. Everything okay?”

  I crossed my legs under the desk and Miss Finch’s eyes followed. “Everyone is talking about that killer. The Ripper.”

  She wrinkled her nose, seeming only annoyed with the situation as opposed to frightened. “Very clever, those damn kids,” she said with enough sarcasm to make me smile.

  Even the teacher didn’t seem worried. What the hell kind of fucked up place could brush off a serial killer? Are they that used to it? A few months and then it’s old news? They’re insane.

  I shrugged at the teacher. “Some people aren’t very creative.”

  Miss Finch tossed the rest of her lunch in the trash and capped her pen. “So there’s nothing you want to talk about today?”

  “Um, no. I really just needed to hide for a while. I can read while you work. I don’t wanna take your time up.”

  “You’re not.” She smiled again. “We can talk about whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be school related. Actually, some of the students like to talk with me outside of class.”

  I felt like I stared far too long at her. “Oh, I didn’t know teachers did that.”

  She smirked. “Some do. I really care about my students. I like to get to know them as people.”

  “You see them outside of school?” That sounded a little odd to me, but I guess I could see why she may want to do that. Maybe she was fun outside of school. It still wouldn’t get me to see her. It felt too strange.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes a few of the kids come over for dinner, or we see a movie. Maybe you can come over some time. How’s your weekend look?”

  Why did this feel like she asked me on a date? I had to be wrong, obviously, but I still didn’t like how it made me feel. I had to come up with a lie. At least I had something to fall back on.

  “I have a ton of school work to catch up on,” I said. “I think my days are gonna be pretty full for a while.”

  “I suppose they would be. Either way, my door is always open.”

  I stayed for another few minutes because I felt like leaving would be impolite so soon after saying no to her after-school invite. But I wouldn’t hang out with a teacher at her house. It sounded like the kind of thing that would have brought more trouble than good times. For the both of us, honestly.

  I got through my classes without hearing too much more about the poor woman who died. It seemed like as the day went by, the students lost interest. The school had a game coming up in a couple days, and that seemed more important to them. The woman that la
y dead, she only mattered until something better came along.

  When the day ended, I went straight home. The girls wanted to take me out for some shopping and dinner, but I couldn’t be around people anymore. Not when they thought so little of the terror in this town. I kept thinking every little shadow in the corner would turn into a person trying to hurt me. I should have heard about this before we’d even gotten to town. Considering it seemed to be the only thing anyone cared about, I would have assumed it might have been bigger news.

  I locked every door in the house when I got there, along with all the windows. They may not be scared, but I was. I spent almost all of my time alone, and, according to every horror movie ever, that made me an easy target.

  I called my mother after I had locked everything up.

  The phone rang as I sat on my bed, waiting. The first call went to voicemail. And the second. And the third. Finally, she picked up.

  “Rocelyn,” my mother hissed. “I’m at work. What’s going on?”

  Everything came out in a frantic rush when I told her what I heard. Everything that Bird told me and everything I heard around school during the day.

  My mother sighed. “I know.”

  “You know?” I asked with disbelief. “You knew and you still got a house here?”

  “The police are going to catch the guy. It’s nothing for you to worry about. Just stay inside and you’ll be safe.”

  “What if I’m not? People break into places to kill people!”

  “Lynn,” she said, slowly. “He would have to find you, and want to kill you. The odds are so small that you’d probably get struck by lightning before running into a serial killer. Relax.”

  Relax. She wanted me to relax when some maniac ran wild in the streets. If she knew, then Dad knew, and I couldn’t believe both of them had been nuts enough to move to this town anyway.

  “I have to go,” she said. “I was in a meeting. Don’t call unless it’s an emergency.” She hung up on me, leaving me sitting there, dumbfounded.