by Abigail Haas
Ethan searches my face. ‘What did you do, Chloe?’
‘I made sure he’d never hurt you again.’
There’s a long silence. I’m clinging to Ethan’s hand, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
There’s a noise; the door opens. ‘I’m just going now . . . ’ Weber is on his cellphone, but when he sees us here together, he hangs up without another word.
‘I told you to stay out.’ He glares at me. ‘You’re interfering with a witness, get the hell away from him.’
My heart drops. I send a desperate look to Ethan, but he turns away.
This is it. The end.
I force myself to rise out of the chair. My legs are trembling, my whole body is thick with fear. I slowly walk towards the door, knowing that these are my last few moments of freedom. I should have run when I had the chance. I should have done so much differently. But it’s too late.
It’s always too late.
‘Wait.’ Ethan’s voice comes, breaking through my terror. ‘She can stay.’
I turn, confused. Ethan reaches out his hand to me, giving me a private look. ‘I want her to stay,’ he says again.
Weber looks back and forth between us. ‘But I need to get your statement.’
‘I don’t remember much.’ Ethan meets my eyes. ‘I just know, she’s the one who saved me. That’s all that matters.’
He’s covering for me.
I gasp an inhale of pure relief, crossing the room in an instant to be by his side. ‘I told you what happened,’ I tell Weber, holding Ethan’s hand tight. ‘Oliver was obsessed with me. He stabbed Ethan, and Ethan hit him in self-defence. It was all an accident.’
‘Is that right, son?’ Weber looks furious, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s on the other side of the room from us; Ethan and I, a united front. ‘You don’t have to say anything right now,’ Weber adds. ‘Take your time, see what you remember.’
‘There’s nothing to remember.’ Ethan looks defiant. ‘It was Oliver. I was just defending us. That’s what happened.’
Weber lets out a long breath. ‘We still need to go through it.’
‘Fine,’ Ethan says.
‘Alone.’ Weber glares at me.
‘It’s OK.’ Ethan squeezes my hand. He gives me a brief smile. ‘I’ve got this. You go find my parents.’
‘You’re sure?’ I linger, still feeling the dance of panic in my veins. What if this is some kind of game, to lull me into security before he brings the truth crashing down?
‘I promise.’ Ethan’s eyes are clear and true. He lifts my hand to his lips in a kiss. ‘You saved me,’ he murmurs. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’
I cup my hand to his cheek. ‘You believed in me,’ I whisper, dizzy with relief.
Weber clears his throat.
I pull away. ‘I’ll be back,’ I tell Ethan. ‘I’ll get you some jello. It’s gross, but it’s the least of all evils in this place.’
He cracks a smile. ‘Don’t be gone too long.’
I walk past Weber and out of the room, my heart pounding. That future that seemed a distant dream suddenly bursts into view again, bright and close enough to hold. The hospital walls fade away around me, instead, I see busy streets and strange new cities; college classrooms and crowds of people.
‘I’m not finished with you yet.’
I chose wrong.
I felt it, the minute the knife slid in and I felt that rush, the glorious rush of power. Better than any drug or glittering orgasm, better than anything I’d ever tasted before.
This was mine.
Ethan gasped, his expression desperate. I didn’t care. I felt the power take me over, and I knew in that moment, it would never be enough. To feel this way, to know I could hold a life in my hands and rip it away for good . . .
I wanted more, already. I wanted it forever.
Oliver gave a slow clap. ‘Beautiful work, my dear.’
I turned. He was watching Ethan’s gasps with a dark look of victory. This was his prize. Not just that Ethan was dying, but that I was the one who’d done it. His student. His instrument. The ultimate betrayal.
And that’s when I realized, through the haze of blood and power, I would never be safe with him.
If he could watch his brother die with a smile on his face, then what would become of me? I’d built my dream of a future on his promises, his seductive words, but one day, he’d turn on me too, and I’d never see it coming.
He’d killed before. He knew this thrill.
One day, it would be me.
I pulled the blade out and Ethan crumpled to the floor, broken and bleeding.
‘I’ll set the fires downstairs,’ Oliver told me, all business again. He swept over the candles nearby, sending them spinning to the floor. ‘You clean up here. There’s kerosene in the bathroom, to make it spread. This place will be ashes before anyone thinks to look.’
He exited the room, footsteps receding on the stairs.
I gasped for air, thinking wildly. Fire. Yes. I’d need it to hide what happened, to give me time to spin my story. I quickly wiped the knife handle down with my sweater sleeve and dragged Ethan closer to the doorway. The candles’ flame was spreading, tiny pockets of flame, but there was still time.
I picked up the length of pipe from the floor and crept downstairs.
Oliver was sloshing kerosense from plastic gallon jugs, all through the kitchen and dining rooms. He was humming, cheerful, even after everything, and he didn’t hear me as I moved up behind him, stealthy and silent.
I caught my breath. I raised the pipe, gripping with both hands. Then my boot hit a stray nail on the concrete and it skittered aside with a metallic ring.
Oliver turned.
I’ll always remember the expression on his face: the confusion, turning to bewildered outrage as he realized what was to come.
He underestimated me. They always did.
I brought the pipe up with all the force I had. It cracked against the side of his skull with a glorious dull ring; he lurched backwards, falling heavily to the ground, face-down.
Silence.
Quickly, I pulled the knife from the back of my waistband and dropped it at his feet. I grabbed the kerosene and poured, shaking it over his motionless body until his clothes were damp through, the floor wet around him, the whole house reeking and ready.
I found the matches in his bag by the door. Ethan was still upstairs, the fire already burning. I could have dragged him clear first, but it didn’t matter whether he made it out alive. All I needed was a body to back up my story. I would be a hero if he made it; a wretched victim if he didn’t. The only part that counted was here: Oliver, unconscious on the floor.
The man who’d made me, unleashed everything I was.
The only one who ever knew me at all.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered.
I struck a match, feeling the drag of friction. The flame flickered and then flared up, bright with promise. I stared into the fire for a moment, until spots danced in my eyes and I could see nothing but the black centre of the flame, then I let it fall to the ground.
The kerosene ignited with a hiss and a flare, flames racing outwards, hungry and consuming.
I stood and I watched it all burn.
‘Chloe. Wait.’
I turn. Weber is following after me, striding down the hallway. It’s morning –with the endless strip lamps, I didn’t notice until now: pale light streaming through the far windows and the new shift nurses changing with a bright chatter.
A new day for me.
Ethan is selling my story, Annette backing us up too. All the pieces fit together, there isn’t anything left to explain. At least, I don’t think there is.
‘Can I help you with anything else?’ I ask him, careful.
‘I talked to the medical examiner.’ Weber stops, standing too close, looming over me. ‘He said Ethan was likely stabbed by someone left-handed. And the blow on Oliver’s skull, it was someone swinging upwards
, someone shorter than him. His report will say your story doesn’t add up.’
My heart shivers in my chest, but I don’t let the panic rise. He wants to scare me, but I’m done with that now. Ethan is on my side, his parents too. All that matters is the story, and I spun it just right.
Just the way I planned.
I coolly meet his gaze. ‘Sometimes it’s better to let things go. That’s what you told me, isn’t it? Maybe a pipe will burst,’ I add, giving him a look. ‘You know how evidence can get destroyed.’
Weber’s jaw goes slack. His eyes widen with realization: of his lies, and my silent threat.
‘Oh, and consider this my notice for work.’ I add brightly. ‘I’m not staying.’
I watch it click into place in Weber’s mind: suspicions becoming fact, with all the horror that truth contains. But even as his eyes fill with shock and betrayal, I’m not afraid. He knows he can’t touch me, he knows I’ve won.
I learned from the best, after all.
I walk away from him, and the last claim this town will ever have on me. Oliver was right, I was always better than this place, and now I never have to hide again.
My world. My rules.
‘Where will you go?’ Weber calls after me.
‘San Diego, I think.’ I turn back and beam, victory thick in my veins. ‘It’s about time I paid my dad a little visit.’
THE END
I'm so grateful that so many people worked to help make this book possible. Thanks to my rock-star agents, Rebecca Friedman and Amanda Preston. A huge thank you to the team from S&S UK for your enthusiasm and expertise, you've been a dream to work with: Ingrid Selberg, Eleanor Willis, Kat McKenna, Rachel Mann, Elv Moody, Emma Young, and Paul Coomey (for my amazing covers). Thanks to my family for everything, and to Abby Schulman, Brandy Colbert, Nadine Nettman-Semerau, Julia Collard, Elisabeth Donnelly, Laurie Farrugia, and Lane Shadgett, for your friendship and support.
Finally, a huge thank you to the readers and bloggers who have tirelessly championed my books: the queen of promo Dahlia Adler, Racquel (Book Barbie), Estelle (Rather Be Reading), Blythe (Finding Bliss in Books), Leah Raeder, Wendy (Book Scents), Stormy (Book.Blog.Bake), Alexa Loves Books, and everyone else who has fought to spread the word. I am so blessed to have you on my team!
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Also available by Abigail Haas:
It’s Spring Break of senior year. Anna, her boyfriend Tate, her best friend Elise, and a few other friends are off to a debaucherous trip to Aruba that promises to be the time of their lives. But when Elise is found brutally murdered, Anna finds herself trapped in a strange country, fighting to save her reputation—and her future.
As Anna sets out to find her friend’s killer, she discovers hard truths about her friendships, the slippery nature of truth, and the ache of young love. But awaiting the judge’s decree, it becomes clear that everyone around her thinks she is not just guilty, but dangerous.
When the truth comes out, it is more shocking than anyone could ever imagine...
“The best teen thriller I’ve ever read.” – Wondrous Reads Blog
“This book astonished me, shocked me, startled me, and ultimately left me with my mouth agape at the sheer brilliance of it all once I turned the last page.” – Finding Bliss in Books Blog
“This is one of those books that messes with your head in the best possible way.” Goodreads.com
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