by Rina Kent
“Addy was friends with Briar?”
“Yeah,” Tiffany says through a short laugh. She sits back and gives me a faint smile. “Everyone said they were…” She squeezes shut her eyes, clicking her fingers, “—fuck, what’s the word?”
“Polyamorous?”
“Yeah.” Tiffany nods enthusiastically. “That’s it. What you said. Everyone said they were like menaging and shit.”
Another thing Addison didn’t bother to mention, unless it was just a rumor.
“Did you see when Addison left?”
Tiffany nods. “Oh yeah,” she says through a laugh. “Everyone saw when she left.”
“What do you—?”
“She was cussing out Jess so fucking bad.” Tiffany’s eyes are wide as she swipes her hand back and forth. “I don’t know what they were fighting about, but that shit was crazy. They looked like they wanted to claw each other’s faces off.”
My skin prickles and I bring the joint to my lips, pulling at it without even realizing what I’m doing. I shouldn’t — I’m stoned enough — but I need something to help with all these unexpected revelations.
“You know what the fight was about?”
Tiffany shakes her head. “I was way too pissed. But it was probably about Briar. You now, ‘cos they were both doing him?”
No, I didn’t know, but thanks to Tiffany, my understanding of the situation is a whole lot clearer.
And with clarity, comes anger.
Who the fuck does Addison think she is, using me as a pawn in some twisted game? Maybe she killed Jessica, and she can’t live with the guilt anymore.
Or…
Stay away from him.
Was she really protecting me…or was she just trying to protect herself?
“Thanks, Tiffany.”
“Thanks for the weed,” she says, grinning brightly at me. “This day was sucking donkey balls.”
“Better now?” I ask with a laugh.
She gives me a double thumbs-up as she gets to her feet. Then she’s off, headed back to the school building. I grind out the rest of the joint under my heel and take Tiffany’s seat.
I can see a small section of the fence from my vantage point.
The fuck do I know about any of this? I’m a fucking outsider. Then again, as an outsider, I have no vested interest in any of the parties involved. I’m like some out-of-town detective called in to deal with a small-town murder where everyone’s a fucking suspect.
Didn’t know I’d be acting all Nancy Drew and shit, but I guess it’s better than hanging around waiting for Briar to bully me.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur until Addy finds me outside my locker. I haven’t been actively avoiding her — I just minimized trips to my locker and used my height — or lack thereof — to my advantage.
“You don’t answer your phone anymore?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow as she leans her hip against the locker next to mine.
I close my locker door and give her a shrug. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have a week of school to catch up.”
“Oh.” Addison drops her eyes, and gives me a sympathetic smile. Yesterday morning in the car I told her that I’d lost my mother. Not how — no one needs that shit in their head — but again, instead of gushing, she changed the subject. Back then, I thought she was a real swell gal for being supportive without being nosy.
Now I’m wondering if she’s just stacking up good karma points to use when I confront her with all the juicy tidbits I discovered today.
“Well, then maybe we can go to the mall and grab an early dinner tonight?”
I know all she wants is to find out what Tiffany said, but I’m still processing everything. After all, in my role as Detective Virgo, I need to ensure every interaction with the possible suspects can be used to the best of my advantage. If I’m going to feed Addison info, I have to make sure she’s giving me something in return.
Yeah, I’m still baked as a fucking potato. I can’t deal with this shit right now. All I want is to get home and wash this day off me.
I haven’t gone girly since Mom died, but I really need some me-time tonight. I’m thinking rose-scented bubbles and possibly — possibly — some wine. A glass…maybe two.
“Tomorrow.”
Addison pouts, but then smiles away the sulkiness a moment later. “Okay. Tomorrow.” She holds up her phone. “But at least just reply to my texts? I worry.”
I nod, patting the pocket of my blazer. The hard case of my mobile makes a comforting tapping sound against my fingers.
“Meet you tomorrow for our morning blunt?” she asks, lifting up the side of her lip with a shrug.
“Only way you’re luring me back to this hellhole,” I say through a laugh. Addy nods, looking satisfied, and waves as she disappears into the crowd.
Hopefully, by then, I’ve figured out what I’m going to tell her. And the questions I’m going to ask.
Chapter Fifteen
Briar
I get in my car and peel out of my parking spot. The growl of my Mustang’s V8 engine rumbles through me as I tear down the road.
You killed her.
I rub a hand over my chest, and fist my fingers when I realize what I’m doing.
I need a fucking cigarette. Marcus and I both quit smoking last year so Coach would stop shitting on us for getting out of breath on long passes, but right now I couldn’t give a shit if I never score another touchdown.
After picking up a packet of cigarettes at one of the filling stations, the cab of my Mustang fills with smoke. I turn up the radio till I can’t hear anything anymore, even my own thoughts.
Because fuck it, I’m done having Indi in my head. Thinking about how soft her lips were against mine, how sweet her mouth tasted. The tiny sound she made when I—
I push my foot down on the gas, overtaking a slow-ass hybrid. It honks its horn at me, and I shove my hand out the window and flip it the finger.
Minutes later, when I realize where I’m headed, I slam my foot on the brakes. I’m on one of the roads leading out of town, and luckily I’m the only one in sight, because my Mustang fishtails. I grit my teeth, barely managing to keep her from spinning out of control.
I end up in a cloud of dust on the side of the road, my engine rumbling angrily before I turn off the ignition with a trembling hand.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I run my fingers through my hair.
I need space.
I kick open the door and rush outside, hauling a deep, dust-tainted breath and coughing. When I turn to hack up and spit into the bushes alongside the road, a nearby road sign catches my eye.
Angel Falls
1 Mile
I glare at it, my jaw aching until I force myself to stop clenching my teeth. Killers are always drawn back to the scene of the crime, aren’t they?
“Fuck!” I swing around and drive my fist into the hood of my Mustang. My yell echoes back to me, but the thump of flesh meeting metal doesn’t.
When I lift my hand, there’s a dent in the hood.
Because I destroy everything I touch, don’t I, Addison fucking Green? I’m the Robert Oppenheimer of Lavish.
I force a grim smile onto my mouth as I get back in my car.
Guess what, Indi?
You’re next on my hit list.
I’m driving aimlessly, taking back roads I know don’t have speeding cameras on so I can open up the Mustang. I almost forget how shitty my fucking life is for like five seconds.
Then Marcus texts me.
I pull onto the side of the road and stare at my phone. I’d forgotten he was bunking with me. That I’d given him a lift to school.
Stellar friend, aren’t I?
I throw the Mustang into a turn and head back to Lavish Prep while I tug at another cigarette.
He’s waiting for me on the school steps like I’m some kind of absentee father who was placing one last bet at the racecourse before coming to get his son.
“Where’
d you disappear to?” Marcus asks as he tosses his bag into the back seat and collapses in his bucket seat.
“Had to clear my head.”
“It work?”
I don’t answer. Ahead, I spot Indi walking out of school, head down and totally oblivious to the world around her. I throw the car into reverse and squeal out of the parking, leaving tire tracks as I head for the exit.
“Wanna talk about it?” Marcus asks.
“No,” I snap. I immediately regret the tone of my voice, but I refuse to apologize.
Marcus lifts his hands, steals one of my smokes, and lights it up without a word.
“I lost my shit today,” I say, glaring through the windshield.
Around me, pines begin dotting the landscape as the road inclines. Lavish always looks so fucking perfect. Sometimes, its beauty is like nails on the chalkboard of my fucking soul. Especially on days when I recognize just how far from perfect I am.
“Yeah, I kinda noticed.” Marcus hands me his smoke, and I let him hold it out for a second before I take it.
I exhale a plume of smoke, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “Let’s just…let’s drop everything.”
“What, Indi?” Marcus chuckles. “A’right.”
I glance at him, but he seems genuinely unconcerned.
I open my window to ash, and leave it rolled down despite how the air tears into the car.
“Why’d you kiss her?” I ask.
“What?” Marcus leans closer, eyebrows lifting.
It’s loud in here, but it’s not that fucking loud. He’s a fucking dick sometimes, Marcus, but he’s still my closest friend.
In fact, he’s my only true friend.
He did what no one else would even have contemplated, and I didn’t even have to ask.
“Why’d you fucking kiss her?” I bark, slamming my palm into the steering wheel.
Marcus snatches the smoke from between my knuckles. “’Cos she’s got a sexy little mouth?”
I want to ask him why he felt he had to put his hand on her throat first. Pull her against him like that. But my chest’s too tight.
“It wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Thought the plan was to make her look like an idiot. I think we succeeded.”
I grit my teeth, but don’t respond. I never openly told him Indi was off-limits. I’d never thought she was. But when he touched her, when he dared put his mouth on hers…I could have spontaneously combusted how pissed off I was.
Can’t tell him any of that without revealing just how much Indi’s clawed her way into my mind. And then he’d be just how he was when I was catching feels with Jessica; telling me to fuck her and get her out of my system already.
I don’t know why, but Marcus seems to think love and all that shit is something reserved for old folks and bros that accidentally knock their chicks up. Anything else is just a one-night-stand. A fling if it happens with the same pair of tits more than once.
I thought I was in love with Jessica. Honest to God I did. But what I did to her wasn’t love. It was pure lust.
“You’re right. She’s not worth the effort,” Marcus says, sounding as if the thought’s coming from fuck-far away.
I say nothing, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.
He shrugs, and turns to me, holding out the smoke. “We got finals and shit coming up, bro.”
I let out a snort. Marcus has never cared about finals, so why the fuck is he using them as an excuse? I drag hard at the cigarette. The filter’s grown hot and damp how we’ve fucking raped it between the two of us, and I grimace as I flick what’s left out the window.
“Finals? Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on? You got the hots for her? You too chicken shit to admit it or something?”
“Course not.” Marcus crosses his arms over his chest, staring out the passenger window. “You’re the one who’s fucking obsessed with her. And you know what happens when you get obsessed.”
Despite how quiet his voice is, it feels like he shouts the accusation at me. We’re about ten minutes from my house — more like five if I keep going at this speed — but I can’t deal with his snide remarks anymore.
I slam on the brakes. Marcus grabs the dash, glaring at me as the car skids to the right before coming to a halt. “The fuck, man!”
“I’ll see you at home,” I mumble, staring at the distant line of trees while my jaw bunches to the point of aching.
“Briar, come on, I was just—”
“Get out.”
He releases a heavy sigh, grabs his bag from the backseat, and climbs out. When he slams closed the door, my Mustang rocks on its shocks for a few seconds before settling.
Marcus doesn’t look back, but I watch him until he turns off the road and into a side path that leads straight to Briar mansion.
Then I sit in my car and wonder why the fuck I just threw out my best friend.
I’ve been walking through Briar woods for what feels like most of the day but what couldn’t be more than two or three hours. After throwing Marcus out of the car, I did a u-turn and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the closest liquor store. The cashier’s been selling me booze for the past three years — he knows I tip really well. The bottle’s half done; closer to half-empty than half full. I could have grabbed a bottle from home, but Marcus might still be there. I guess, despite what an asshole I was to him, he’d still prefer to stay with me than head back home and see his dad.
Fall’s almost done with Lavish; the nights creep in sooner every day. It’s already twilight by the time I surface from my ocean of dark, dismal thoughts.
But I don’t escape with clarity, or logic.
After hours of silent fuming, my brain’s fizzing with anger, frustration, terror. The cocktail turns me into a speechless, knuckle-dragging Neanderthal with only one thing on my mind.
Indi fucking Virgo.
Twilight teases shadows out from under the trees. Under that darkness, the bramble’s thorns grow longer and sharper than before.
Wicked.
That’s what this place is.
That’s what I am.
Wicked as a bramble thorn, and just as merciless.
I can’t blame Marcus for taking advantage of the situation earlier today. I’d told the crew what I wanted, and they made it fucking happen.
That’s how this shit worked.
But I couldn’t stand seeing those sloppy lips all over my girl.
Yes, mine.
From the moment I saw her in the woods, she became my property. My toy.
My prize.
I stumble through the last of the tangled woods and hastily step back into the shadows, clutching the whiskey bottle to my chest like a sleepy kid with a teddy bear.
Ahead, the tacky Davis house sits on their small strip of land like the house in Wizard of Oz after it landed on the witch.
This must be where Indi’s staying. It’s the only way I could have encountered her in the woods.
There’s only a single light on in the house, on the second story.
Too far away. A yellow blur.
I glance around, but there’s nothing to see except more shadows and the deep purple of approaching night. Setting down the bottle, I push away from the cover of the trees and rush over the lawn. My back presses into the house’s wooden slats, and I count a few hundred breaths before daring to peek out at an angle. I’m almost right under the light. The window is small, so it must be a bathroom or something.
Fuck knows why, but I want to be inside. I want to see her again, even if she doesn’t want to see me. And the fact that I can’t fight that feeling scares the living bejesus out of me.
You’re losing control again.
You should be leaving, not breaking in.
But my hand’s already on the doorknob of what I assume is this place’s back door. My breath already stifled in an attempt to make as little noise as possible. I’m drunk, sure, but I’ve been sneaking around houses since I was a little boy.
This stuff comes naturally to me. I take off my sneakers and leave them outside before inching my way into the quiet house.
Despite my precautions, I can’t prevent the floorboards creaking under my weight. If it weren’t for the roaring in my ears, I might have thought twice about proceeding. But I’m already in the middle of a dark kitchen, and my thumping heart practically propels me forward.
As does an intense urge to know what the fuck makes this girl so special, how the fuck she’s capable of messing with my mind. I haven’t fucked anyone since Jess because I didn’t want to lose control again.
Honestly, I haven’t even felt the urge, until I met Indi.
I’m facing stairs. It’s nothing like the sweeping stairways and magnificent landing at Briar Manor with its massive fuck-off chandelier.
I’m halfway up before I realize I never had any intention of turning back. I knew I was going to be inside this house right after I kissed Indigo in the park. Which raises a fuck load of questions I am too drunk to answer.
A stair creaks loudly under my foot. I pause, my heart jumping into my fucking throat. But there’s no ‘aha!’ No one demanding that I leave.
And when nothing happens, I push on.
Light shines under a closed door midway down the hall. The air here is scented with something girly — flowers, or candy, or something.
I stop outside the door, and stare for a second at the inch-wide gap.
It’s not even closed all the way.
Which, to my beer-goggled mind is better than a golden, hand-lettered invitation.
Chapter Sixteen
Indi
“Mmm, mm, mmmm, mm, mm.” I tap my foot against the end of the bath, splashing water everywhere. My earbuds are on full blast, sending wave after wave of cathartic heavy metal deep into my ear canals.
Yeah, kill them all, you fucking motherfucker.
“Mmm, mmmmmmm, mm.”
I need more wine. I grab a metal goblet from the rim of the bath, and shiver a little as a light breeze caresses my arm. I glance over at the bathroom door, and frown hard.