I move out of my chair to kneel beside her, rubbing my hand up and down her back. “We can protect him. I think the news he has family and they are like this…” I pause, unsure what to call his dad. He’s not his dad—he doesn’t have the right to be called that, and he doesn’t have the right to be called a sperm donor, either. Instead, I carry on. “Once everything has sunk in, he’ll be fine. You’ve raised a beautiful, strong man, Milly. He’s perfect in every way he needs to be. Yes, he has flaws, but none that matters. They’re all superficial, like snoring,” I tell her, trying to lighten the mood.
It works.
She snorts, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. “And that he’s like a human disposable bin.”
I laugh, getting back up and sitting back down in front of her. “See, he’s incredible.”
She looks up at me, her expression serious. “Do you really think he’ll be okay?”
I can’t lie to this woman. “Eventually he will, yes. Right now, he just needs time. We know he didn’t do this. For one thing, he was at a rugby match with me when Katie was murdered. He has loads of witnesses to confirm that.” I pause, thinking back to Linda, the second girl who was murdered. “I’m not sure where he was the time Linda was taken. It was a Sunday, so he could have been at practice or sleeping in. Plus, she was discovered when we were away for that book signing. Marie Fleet was taken the night he was with us at home, and her body was found when he was in class. He has an alibi for all of them. I can’t say for sure about Christie, but he spent every night at mine due to the court case, so I’d say he was there. In fact, I’d be willing to put money on it.”
“I know he didn’t do it. I’m just worried about his mental state. This must be hard for him.”
“We’ll get through this. He isn’t alone.”
Milly yawns, and I follow. She looks at me, smiling. “Why don’t you take CJ’s old bedroom for tonight. There’s no telling what time he’ll be back.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, noticing it’s nearly two in the morning.
She nods, getting up and taking our cups to the sink. She swills them out before leaving them in the sink. “Come on, you can wear one of CJ’s shirts, they’re big enough that it’ll look like a nightgown on you.”
“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna texted CJ and tell him that I’ll be staying here and to wake me up when he gets back.”
I text him quickly, my eyes stinging when I glance at my phone. Milly flicks the lights off before we walk through the house to the stairs. I follow, looking around the grand staircase and pictures that line the wall. Most of them are of CJ, but a few are of him and an older couple, who I presume are his great-grandparents.
His mum stops at a door down the hall and pushes it open. I glance inside, grinning when I see his Walking Dead posters.
“Thank you,” I tell her, stepping inside.
“I’m in the last room, right down the hall. If you need anything at all, come and get me.”
I turn back to her and pull her in for a hug. I don’t know if she needs it, but I know I do. “Try to get some sleep.”
She pulls back, squeezing my hands. “I’ll try. Goodnight, Allie.”
“Goodnight, Milly.”
I shut the door to after she leaves. His room is everything I thought it would be. A double bed with blue sheets, zombie posters, computer equipment that lines the wall with a huge desk, and trophies on a shelf on the other side of the room.
I walk over, picking one up, smiling when I see it’s for coming first place in a go-karting race. Another one is for winning school clown.
My boyfriend. I sigh.
I blink, my eyes tired and sore, so I grab a T-shirt from his drawers and change before getting into bed.
With my phone in hand, I text CJ.
Me: Where are you? I’m worried. Please message me back.
I stare at the screen until my eyes shut, and I fall asleep.
*** *** ***
Light pouring into the room and the bed shifting drifts me from my restless sleep. I’m not sure what time it is, but I don’t feel like I’ve been sleeping long.
“CJ?”
A strong arm wraps around me, pulling me against a chest. “Go back to sleep,” he croaks hoarsely.
He sounds rough, distraught.
Knowing he needs me, I turn in his arms, facing him. I run my fingers through his hair. “Oh, CJ. What did you do tonight?”
He sighs, resting his forehead against mine. “I gave the police my DNA. I gave them a statement, too. I’m not sure where I was the night Christie was murdered, but all the others, I’m pretty sure I have an alibi for.”
“CJ, no one will think you did this.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m still somehow related to whoever is doing this. I feel sick inside. I sat outside that police station just looking down at my hands. I traced the lines of my veins, disgusted with the knowledge that his blood runs through them. I can’t erase him. I can’t wipe him from my mum’s my memory. And now he’s haunting us again. I don’t know what to do to make this right.”
I cup his cheek, feeling tears flow down my face. “CJ, the blood inside you doesn’t make you who you are; your heart and soul do, and, baby, you are original. You are nothing like them. You are your own person.”
“I just can’t believe this is happening.”
“We’ll get through this. Together.”
“Yeah, yeah, we will,” he says, but sounds distant, detached.
I worry this is just the beginning, that we might lose the CJ we know and love through all of this.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The past week and a half has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Another girl, Lilian Clarke, was taken a week ago.
CJ was taken down the police station the day after for more questioning. The media and public haven’t been informed of CJ’s involvement, since the police are cautious it could put him in danger. They aren’t wrong, and if we don’t find out who is doing this, it might come to the point he will leave.
We’ve hardly spent any time together since he found out about the DNA. He’s been holed up in his room after getting all the information he could on his mother’s rapist and her family.
The only people who know, are his mum, me, Cole and Willow. He didn’t want anyone else to know. It hasn’t stopped me from looking into it—anything to ease his mind. I also betrayed his wishes by telling Jordan everything, knowing I’ll need her help.
But the news CJ received six days ago has caused a drift between us.
“I don’t get it. What do you mean?” CJ’s mum demands.
CJ sits back in his chair, looking pale. I take his hand, squeezing it.
The police officer gives her a sympathetic smile. “We ran CJ’s blood work. It came back with a one-thirty-five familial match. We know the DNA belongs to a male, so we believe he is a sibling, another child your attacker fathered.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Milly cries.
“Does this mean I’m in the clear?” CJ whispers hoarsely, looking rough. He hasn’t slept or eaten much since everything was revealed.
“Yes, we believe so.”
I shake myself out of my thoughts and watch the door to the library. I asked Jordan to meet me here, since being at home felt wrong without CJ. I’ve been worried sick, physically and emotionally, and needed the fresh air. My stomach has been in knots for over a week.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and lock up?” Alex asks, sounding concerned. I glance at him; his eyes are drawn together and he’s shifting nervously. For good reason. CJ hasn’t been the only one not acting themselves.
I miss him.
“I’ll be fine. Jordan will be here in a second. She’s gonna help me with my coursework.”
“I can wait around, walk you back home? With that madman out on the loose, it’s not safe.”
I lift my hand, stopping him from going any further. Before I can reply, the door to the library opens. I turn, expecting Jo
rdan, but instead I find Mr. Flint walking in, a slimy smile on his face.
“Allie, what a surprise to see you here,” he greets.
I glance at Alex. He’s watching Mr. Flint with rapt attention, a frown upon his face.
“I work here,” I tell him—something he knows. During the last lesson we had, I told him I couldn’t make his appointment due to work. He clearly knew I’d be here.
“We’re actually closed,” Alex tells him.
He turns his nose up at Alex before turning to me, smiling once again. “I’m sure Allie wouldn’t mind waiting behind so I can look for a book I need.”
“Actually, I’m going to be busy. The library opens at seven in the morning. If you want to come back then, I’m sure Janie will be more than willing to help you.”
The smile falls from his face. “It’s important. I won’t keep you long.”
I force a smile. “It’s late, Mr. Flint, and I have classes in the morning. I’d like to get back.”
His face looks pinched when he nods. “Very well. I’ll come back tomorrow. While I’m here, I’d like to book an appointment for you to come meet with me.”
As much as I’d love to decline, he is my teacher. If I keep refusing to see him he might do something about it. I can’t get a bad grade or report.
“When were you thinking?”
He looks to Alex distastefully before he turns to me. “Janie informed me you had a Friday night off in a few weeks. If you can come to my office then, for about seven, we can go over your work.”
My heart stops. He knew when I’d be working and when I wouldn’t. He was trying to catch me out on a lie.
With a wobbly smile, I answer, “That’s fine.”
He nods once again. “I’ll see you then.”
The look he gives me sends a shiver down my spine. When he’s gone, I try to hide my fear, and force a smile as I look at Alex.
“Shouldn’t you be going?”
He looks torn. “I don’t know. That guy gives me the creeps. I’ve heard girls swoon over him, but I’ve also heard whispers from some who have said he’s not who he seems to be and they don’t like him.”
Hearing what others have said doesn’t help the fear I already have for Mr. Flint. But I need to speak to Jordan on my own, without prying ears.
“I’ll be fine, and Jordan will be here soon, so I won’t be on my own.”
“Everything okay?” Jordan asks, making me jump.
I turn around, my hand over heart, and gasp. “Could you not sneak up on people.”
She winces. “Sorry.”
Alex chuckles, grabbing his things. “Since she’s here, I’ll go. Make sure you walk to your cars together.”
“We will,” I tell him.
When he’s gone, Jordan gives me a questioning look. “What did I miss?”
I wave her off. “Nothing that can’t wait.” I pause, looking at her pleadingly. “Please tell me you’ve found something.”
She looks away before sitting down, and a sinking feeling hits the pit of my stomach. She’s found something, and it’s bad. It has to be.
“Are you sure you want to hear this?” she asks, and I feel sick again.
“Yes. I need to know. He’s going out of his mind, Jordan. I’ve hardly seen him. He’s pulling away from me. The only person he really spends time with is Cole.”
“I did some digging after you told me everything.”
I put my hand up, stopping her, feeling the blood drain from my face. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”
She grabs my hand and rushes out, “No, of course not.”
I sag against my chair. “Thank you. Go on.”
“All the girls have one thing in common: CJ,” she says, her eyes filled with sadness.
I push my chair back and get up, tears running down my face. “No. He didn’t do this. I asked for your help to help him, not make him look guilty.”
She looks at me like I’ve slapped her. “Allie, calm down, please. I would never think CJ did these things. Let me explain.”
I wipe my cheeks and take a seat. “I’m sorry. Everything is getting to me. I miss him so much.”
She rubs the top of my hand soothingly. “He just needs time. This is big. It must have hit him hard.”
“It has,” I tell her, sighing. “What did you find? How do they all have CJ in common?”
She pulls her laptop out of her bag, loads it up, and clicks on a file on the homepage. Photos pop up on the screen, and I frown when I see CJ standing next to Christie. I knew he knew her but seeing them together hurts. She was evil, a bitch, and I always wondered if he slept with her. I’ve been too scared to ask, afraid of what the answer will be.
She clicks onto the next photo. “This is Linda Cooper. She and CJ both run Whithall Hospice Charity together. I’m not sure if they knew each other personally, but this photo is of everyone who had taken part.”
I take a closer look at the photo. Linda Cooper is smiling wide, sweat pouring off her, and her arms around another young girl and a middle-aged man. Next to him stands CJ, looking just as exhausted and sweaty as the rest of them.
I look to Jordan, my eyes wide. “What does this mean?”
She points over to the screen with her eyes. This time I’m looking at a new photo. “This is Marie Fleet. It seems they were out with a group of friends. Lilian Clarke, according to her Facebook posts from a year ago, actually slept with CJ. CJ also knew Kate through her brother Dylan.”
“This doesn’t make sense. CJ has never once mentioned he knew these girls.”
She shrugs. “Why would he? Linda was a sixteen-year-old girl when this photo was taken. CJ, no offence, wouldn’t pay attention to her. And if you haven’t noticed, CJ loves his photo being taken. Being in a photo with a group of people is not rare for him. Why would he remember these being taken? Plus, they aren’t even friends on Facebook. I doubt they know each other personally. He isn’t even tagged. From what I know of him, he probably jumped in front of the camera randomly, and most likely didn’t know one person in the photo.”
“What about Lilian?”
She winces, pity filling her eyes. “It’s no secret CJ has a past when it comes to girls. He’s never hid that from you, babe.”
I wipe my cheeks, wondering what all this means. “This has to mean something, right? I mean, with the murderer being related and now this, it has to.”
She nods. “I’ve looked into the name of the person who attacked Milly. He had no wife or kids that are on record, but that’s not saying they aren’t out there. He had two sisters. One died young and one died in an institution in her late thirties.”
It takes a minute for my brain to catch up. “Are you saying that the news article I found could be about one of his sisters?”
When she nods, I gasp, horror-struck. I knew that story meant something.
“Yes. Claire Forest, the lady who murdered her husband and his mistress, was originally Claire Lance. She took her dad’s last name, but Conrad Pearson, the man who raped Milly, took his father’s last name.”
“Oh, my god, I need to tell CJ.”
She stops me from getting up. “Wait, there’s more.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “More?”
She nods sadly. “Yes. It’s not in the public records, but after much digging I found hospital reports in Claire’s name. It said she gave birth to a boy in nineteen-ninety-six.”
“Does it say who?”
“No. I’ve looked everywhere for a birth certificate, but it’s sealed. To get it unsealed I’d have to be involved with the case. Alas, I’m just a middle-class student who blogs.”
“Maybe the police can.”
“It won’t matter. The results of the DNA test said it was a close relation, most likely a sibling. It couldn’t be her child who is doing this.”
“Something doesn’t add up, Jordan. It must mean something. Why would it have been bugging me ever since I found it?”
“I honestl
y don’t know. We could go to the police with what we have, but then, how would we explain what we found?”
She has a point.
“But we found the article online.”
“And Conrad? What about the hospital file? How do we explain that, Allie?”
I run my fingers through my hair. My stomach starts to turn. I know it’s coming, so I rush over to the bin by the counter and empty the contents of my stomach—the little bit of lunch I managed to get down.
“Allie, are you okay?”
I gag, throwing up once more. I hold my index finger up, silently asking her to give me a minute. I hear her feet move away, but I don’t look, instead throwing up once more. My stomach cramps, since there’s nothing left to get up.
Jordan walks back over to me, bending down and handing me a bottle of water and some tissue. I look up from the bin, my eyes watering. “Thank you.”
“Are you okay? You look really pale. Maybe tonight wasn’t a good idea.”
I wave her off as I take a long swig of the water. It’s lukewarm, but it will have to do. “It’s fine. I’ve been getting sick for just over a week now. I think it’s the stress of everything.” She doesn’t look convinced. “I promise, I’m fine. It’s nothing you’ve said, I swear.”
“That wasn’t where I was going,” she says cryptically.
I give her a questioning look. “What are you talking about?”
“Allie, could you be pregnant?”
I laugh at her absurd question, shaking my head. “What? No—no way.” She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to.
There’s no way I’m pregnant. I’ve missed a few pills here and there, yes, but we’ve been careful. I think. There were a few times we’ve been careless, but… I couldn’t be.
Game Over (Whithall University Book 2) Page 19