Mum had reluctantly agreed to let me go to Blake’s house and to the hospital as long as I was back home by eleven. I gave it an hour before she texted me, needing an update on my whereabouts.
Blake’s house was dark when I arrived, but his bedroom light was on and the front door was unlocked. “Blake,” I called, making my way upstairs.
He didn’t reply, but his door was wide-open. I found him sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. There was no doubt he’d heard me calling him and stomping up the stairs, but he made no attempt to acknowledge my presence. I slowly sat next to him on his bed. I was wary and worried. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “What happened to Pete? Should we go to the hospital? I can take you right now if you want.”
“My mum found him at his house. He was supposed to come over, but when he didn’t show, she went to his. The front door was open, and he was lying on his living room floor. He’s been hit over the head with a cricket bat, Mackenzie. His own cricket bat.”
“Oh my God.” I sat down and covered his clenched fist with my hand. “Do you know what’s happening now?”
He shook his head and lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I just found out. My dad offered to come and get me but…”
“But what?”
“I don’t think anyone would want me there.”
“Of course they’d want you there.” It was me who Pete wouldn’t want there. “Come on. We need to go.”
He looked over, and I saw the raw pain in his eyes. “Why are you here?”
Because you called and because I can’t get you off my mind. “Why did you come over when I called you?”
He frowned and looked down at his hands. “Friends now, are we?”
I thought we’d passed that stage when we’d slept together, but I didn’t think I needed to bring that up now. “Yes, so get used to it. Put on your shoes,” I instructed. “We’re going to the hospital.”
I could only see the side of his face, but his smirk was crystal clear. “Did you just tell me to put on my shoes like I’m a child?”
“Well, when you decide to act your age…” I rolled my eyes and slapped his forearm. “Come on, Blake. You have to go.”
“That attack could have killed him. Someone tried to kill my uncle. Do you know where Aaron, Kyle, and Megan are?”
“What?” I replied, laughing in disbelief. “You think it was one of them?”
“How can you not think this is related to Josh’s and Courtney’s murders?”
I hadn’t really thought about it. Court and Josh were stabbed, not hit like Pete. “Let’s just concentrate on what’s important right now. Get off your arse and get in my car. I’m driving you to the hospital. You need to be with your family.”
He arched his eyebrow and muttered, “Family. Right.”
“Come on,” I said, yanking his arm until he got off the bed.
We arrived at the hospital forty-five minutes later and walked the deserted corridor looking for Ward F, where Pete was according to Eloise’s voice mail.
I looked up at Blake. His body was so tense I thought he was going to shatter. “When we get there, I think I should wait outside. You OK with that?” I asked.
He clenched and unclenched his jaw. “I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“Of course you don’t. You don’t need anybody,” I replied sarcastically. “Blake, you’ve been there for me, and I want to do the same. There are no ulterior motives here. I’m not doing it to get anything in return. That’s just what friends do.”
“Again with the friend thing. You really do like me, don’t you?” He said it as a joke, but under the teasing I could tell it was a genuine question. There weren’t many people in his life that actually knew and cared about him.
“Yes.” I like you way more than I should. “You’re stuck with me.”
I rang the intercom outside the locked intensive care ward, and as soon as I mentioned Pete’s nephew was here, we were told to come straight in. That didn’t seem good to me, like they wanted to get his family in quick to say good-bye before the inevitable.
Blake held the door open as it clicked unlocked. I walked through and turned around. “Ooh, you’re turning into a gentleman there.”
His blue eyes glared. “Next time, I’m gonna let it hit your arse.”
“Sure you will. Go ahead. I’ll wait in there,” I said, nodding toward the door with a sign that read “Waiting Room.”
“You really don’t want to come with?”
“Blake, your family will be glad you came. You know how Pete feels about me. He was so angry and hateful; there’s no way he would want me there. I’ll be right here, and we can leave whenever you want.” He opened his mouth, but I reached up and pressed my palm against it, sensing what he was about to say. “After you’ve seen your uncle. You can do this.”
He took a step back, and I lowered my hand. With a curt nod, he walked off to be with his family.
I watched the hallway until Blake entered Pete’s room, and then I went into the small waiting room. One wall was lined with blue fabric chairs, and the other had a long wooden counter. Exactly what you’d expect at a hospital. There were tea- and coffee-making facilities, but I figured those were for the families of patients to use, so I stuck fifty pence in the vending machine for a crappy plastic cup of coffee.
I sat down and sent a quick text to Mum, letting her know what was happening. She replied immediately and told me to let Blake’s family know she was thinking of them. I wouldn’t, of course, because I wasn’t welcome, but I replied I would tell Blake.
I wasn’t sure how long Blake would stay, but I didn’t think it would be that long. As much as I was tired and wanted my bed, I wanted Blake to stay more. He needed to connect with the family who were still practically strangers to him. The only family he really had was his dad and paternal grandparents.
Being the only person in the waiting room and with no other distraction, my mind wandered to what Blake had said. Was the person who’d hurt Pete the same person who’d killed Courtney and Josh? Blake thought it was Kyle, but I couldn’t see any of them hitting someone over the head with a cricket bat any more than I could see them stabbing two of our friends. Then there was Blake’s past with his mum and the fact that he had no fuzzy feelings toward anyone he was related to, besides his dad.
No matter what though, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: it wasn’t any of them. I couldn’t even force myself to imagine it was. The image of any of them holding a knife in his or her hand, standing over Court’s and Josh’s bloody bodies, refused to enter my mind.
Blake didn’t have the same history or emotional attachments, and he thought it was Kyle.
I had only just finished my pond-water coffee and second round of obsessing when Blake walked into the room. “Let’s go,” he snapped.
“How is he?” I asked, standing up and throwing my empty cup in the bin.
“Unconscious,” he replied and walked toward the door.
I scrambled after him, eager to find out why he was so desperate to leave. What happened in that room?
By the time I got home, it was a little after midnight, and my legs were ready to collapse. I was that exhausted. Blake had barely said a word the whole way home, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. No matter how many times I asked, he refused to tell me why we’d left in such a rush. Someone had said something to him—that much was clear. But who and what?
I hadn’t seen any of Blake’s family, but he told me they were in Pete’s room. From what I could drag out of him, I knew that Pete was in critical condition. His brain was swollen and he was unresponsive. A machine was literally his lifeline.
The only other thing I had managed to get out of him was that his nan was glad he was there. It looked really, really bad, and I was scared for them all.
• • •
Sunday, August 23
The next morning, I woke startled after a vivid dream of Josh and Courtney being stabbed by a faceless killer. I knew they were both stabbed. I’d seen the aftermath and heard the details the police had released, but last night, it was as if I saw it happening. The dream was so vivid I felt sick.
Rolling over, I grabbed my phone to check the time and my face fell when I saw the unknown number again. Open it, Mackenzie. You can do it.
Someone had a big mouth.
A big mouth. Pete? Did they mean Pete?
“Oh God, think, Mackenzie,” I muttered, rubbing at my thudding forehead. There had to be a connection between Pete and Lawrence, other than a heated exchange after Tilly’s funeral. I didn’t want one of my friends to be responsible. Josh had been an arsehole about being thankful it was Tilly and Gigi and not him and Courtney who’d died. Pete defended his nephew and Lawrence defended his daughter.
It could be. I wanted to be able to place the blame on Lawrence.
It was time to tell Wright my theory on Lawrence and let him decide what to do with it. We were getting nowhere. I had no idea what I was doing. I’d received a second creepy message, and my head was a total mess. Was I the only one getting these messages? And if not, why had they not said anything? Were they as scared as I was?
We were friends. We shouldn’t be protecting ourselves from each other. But that was exactly what I was doing.
Pete had been hurt, and the police needed to start looking at Lawrence, before—in case—something happened to anyone else. Before I dared look even closer at my friends, I would exhaust every other option.
Over breakfast, Mum and Dad required a lot of reassurance that I was OK. It was exhausting. As soon as I finished eating, I grabbed my keys and headed out to my car as my parents headed off to work. I waved to them and anxiously got in my car, eager to get this trip to the station over with.
I gripped the steering wheel tight with both hands as I drove. Nerves rattled around in my stomach and I wanted nothing more than to curl up and pretend it was just a regular summer day. I turned into town and my phone rang. Megan.
Yeah, I was not ready to deal with her, but I couldn’t put it off, because she’d only keep on calling. “Hi,” I said and put her on hands free, so I could drive at the same time.
“Hey, Kenzie, you OK?”
No, not at all. “Yeah, you?”
“I’m OK. Look, I think we all need to get together. We’ve not all been together properly, where it was just us, in over a week. Aaron and Kyle are coming to my house at seven tonight for pizza. We need to stick together and not continue to drift apart. You in?”
It all sounded so normal, like any other chill evening. But it felt forced, like we were just papering over the cracks. “Sure, I’m in. I’m driving, so I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later.”
“All right. Bye.”
“Bye.” I ended the call and pulled into the parking lot next to the police station. To my right was Aaron’s car. What the hell is going on? I got out in a daze and saw Aaron and Kyle walking toward me. My heart beat a little too fast.
“Hey,” Kyle said, wrapping me in one of his big hugs.
I hugged him back briefly and pulled away. “Hey.”
“You’ve been called in too, huh?” Aaron asked, rolling his eyes.
Called in? He’d been called in again? “Uh, yeah,” I replied, not wanting to get into what I was really doing at the police station. If I asked Aaron for details, he might question why I didn’t know. It was probably something to do with Pete’s attack anyway.
“Will you be at Megan’s later?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah, I will. I’ll see you guys there.”
“Cool,” Aaron replied, nodding and opening the car door. Kyle got in the passenger side and started messing around on his phone. Everything they did now made me think there could be a hidden meaning behind it. Knowing Kyle, he was probably just playing on some rubbish app he’d downloaded. You couldn’t mask the number you were texting from, could you? No—that didn’t make sense. I was just jumpy. They both gave me an effortless wave as Aaron backed out of the space and drove off.
I strode toward the police station, still intent on telling Wright about Lawrence, when Wright and Blake came out of the station’s front doors. Blake is here too. Are Megan and I the only ones who weren’t called in? I took a few steps closer so I could hear what they were saying.
“Yes…very colorful indeed,” Wright said, raising one of his dark eyebrows. I couldn’t see Blake’s face because his back was to me, but I could picture his bored expression.
“Colorful doesn’t make you a killer, Mr. Wright. What you’re looking for is psychotic.”
Wright shrugged. “Perhaps and perhaps you’re not the killer. Your past doesn’t prove you murdered your brother and his girlfriend. Your police record did, however, make very interesting reading, Blake. I thank you for saving me from a dull evening.” He nodded once and went back inside the station.
Blake turned and walked toward the parking lot.
“Hey,” I shouted and waved at him.
“What are you doing here, Mackenzie?”
“What did Wright mean about you having a police record?” I asked, jogging to catch up with him. Man, he could walk fast when he wanted to.
Blake’s eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. “Nothing,” he muttered.
“Bull!” I grabbed his arm.
He spun around, almost knocking into me. “What do you want? You’re all over the place, running around trying to solve a murder. I. Didn’t. Kill. Them,” he said slowly.
“Blake, I believe you.”
He looked into my eyes, trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or not.
“I believe you,” I repeated.
“Good. You can drop it then.”
Turning around, he walked toward his truck.
Not so fast, buddy! I followed, leaving a small distance between us. Whatever he was hiding in his police record, I wanted to know. Blake unlocked his car, and I tugged opened the passenger door. “What are you doing?” he asked. He sounded bored, and it made me smile. “What?”
“Get in the car, Blake.”
He growled and got in, slamming the door.
“Tell me,” I pressed.
“I’ll tell you what’s in my police file if you tell me something that no one knows about you.”
“Is that what you always do? Deflect?”
He’d put up his wall. “If I’m going to tell you something only my dad knows, something that I’m not proud of, then I want the same in return,” he said. “It’s your choice.”
“Fine.”
“And you have to go first,” he added.
I chewed the inside of my cheek and looked out of the side window. I couldn’t look at Blake when I told him. It was too personal, too intense. My heart broke as I prepared to talk about it for the first time since I was fifteen. I clasped my hands together as my body froze from the inside out.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to relive this! Can I really trust him with this story? I took a deep breath and swallowed the football-sized lump in my throat. I knew I had to share if I wanted the same honesty from Blake. And I needed that honesty if we were going to figure out what had really happened that night at the cabin.
Opening my mouth, I closed my eyes and waited for the words to form. My heart felt like lead as I whispered, “Three years ago I had…an abortion.”
Oh God, I’d said the words aloud. Pain wrapped around my heart and squeezed.
I waited for him to say something, but he was silent.
I went on. “I was fifteen, far too young to be a mom, and so scared. My boyfriend at the time had broken up with me a week before I found out and he’d turned…nasty. So I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell my parents because they would have been angry and so disappointed. I didn’t want them to hate me. I had no idea who to turn to or where I could go. I was drowning and didn’t know what to do. Every night, I cried myself to sleep after praying for help. But no one could help me—or at least, that’s how I felt at the time. I’d never been so terrified before and I haven’t since, not even finding Courtney and Josh. I was alone and didn’t feel like I had any options at all, so I didn’t tell anyone.”
The fabric of the seat rubbed loudly on Blake’s jeans as he turned suddenly in my direction. “Mackenzie, you went through that by yourself?” he asked gently.
I struggled to take a breath and blinked away the sting behind my eyes. You can do this. “I-I booked an appointment at the clinic. I didn’t allow myself to think about it too much. I pretended I was going for a routine test.” My hands shook as I was catapulted back to that day. I could still smell the cleanliness of the clinic and the feel the fear burning in my stomach. “When I took that pill, I pretended it was aspirin. When I felt the pains, I pretended they were from my period. The second I did it, I hated myself. I still do. It was the biggest mistake of my life,” I whispered. “And Josh was the only other person who knew.”