13

Wednesday

February 7

In the morning, I wake without a hangover. Winning. Every time we’ve been out, I’ve always had a headache the next day. It’s kind of nice not to want to hack off my own head.

I pull back my covers, and instantly, I regret it, as freezing air rushes over my body.

Is the heat not on?

Dashing to my closet, I grab my bathrobe and wrap it around my body. I head to the thermostat on the wall by the stairs to turn up the heat, but it’s off. It’s the middle of winter. Why on earth would anyone turn the heat off?

At the top of the stairs, I freeze. There’s a white box right inside the front door. It’s about shoe box size, but square.

My heart thuds, and I clench my fists. I must be the only person up. Someone else would have seen this for sure if they were awake, but I don’t want to open it on my own. My pulse races. What am I about to find in that little white box?

I step backward without taking my eyes off the package and knock on Chace’s door. “Are you up?”

No answer.

“Chace?” I call a little louder, and knock again.

This time he hears and mumbles through the door, annoyed, “What?”

“There’s something downstairs. I don’t want to look at it alone.”

He doesn’t reply, but I hear movement as he gets out of bed and thunders across the floor. The door flies open. “Someone’s in the house?”

“No. Something, not someone. There,” I say, pointing at the box. I’m scared about what’s in the package and, more importantly, how it was left inside for us. But I can’t help but notice and appreciate Chace’s naked chest.

“What the…” he starts. “Lylah, stay here.” He moves down the stairs, rubbing his arms in the cold.

“No, I’m coming with you.” As long as I have company, I can be brave.

Rolling his eyes, he says, “How did I know you’d say that?”

I follow him down, one step behind.

We reach the bottom, and I twist the thermostat there too. The boiler finally kicks in, making clunking noises as it fires up to heat both zones of the house.

Chace stops and looks at me. “That was on high when I went to bed last night, and I was the last one up.”

“I so don’t want to hear that.”

“How is he breaking in? Was one of the doors left unlocked? We have security outside, so I don’t understand how this happened.”

“We need to be more careful.” I shudder. “He could have done anything while he was in here.” Gasping, I grip Chace’s arm. “We don’t know he hasn’t. Sienna! Isaac! Charlotte!” I shout.

“Jesus, Lylah, talk about overreacting.”

“I’m not overreacting. He could have hurt them!”

“What’s with the noise, guys?” Isaac asks, stumbling out of his room.

Charlotte is out next. “What? What’s going on?”

“There’s a box,” I say, looking up the stairs for Sienna.

She surfaces seconds later, and I let out a sigh of relief. Her sleek black hair is still pulled up in a topknot from last night. “This had better be good, Lylah.” Folding her arms, she walks down the stairs. “Jeez, it’s cold.”

“Jake was here during the night. He must have turned off the thermostat when he left this.” Chace steps aside so they can get a good look.

“Oh my God, don’t open it. We should we call Detective Lina!” Sienna exclaims.

“I can’t wait that long. Someone call her, but I’m opening it,” Chace replies. He crouches down and reaches out slowly like he expects the box to explode.

I hold my breath as he lifts the lid with the tip of his index finger.

Flipping it open, he peers in, and then jumps to his feet. “Fuck!”

Oh God. No way. No, that can’t be…

But it is.

Turning away, I press my fist against my mouth and wretch. Don’t throw up. Even though it’s in a plastic bag, the smell is overpowering. It stings my nose and attacks the back of my throat.

Charlotte sprints into the living room screaming and Sienna makes a dash for the bathroom as Isaac swears and pounds at the screen on his phone, I assume calling the police.

Is that…Sonny’s heart? Or Nora’s? Or a pig’s heart like the one on the noticeboard? And if it was from a pig, where are Sonny’s and Nora’s hearts?

“How could he do this? We’ve done nothing to him. How could he?” I rant, breathing heavily to try to make my lungs work properly. It doesn’t help. The harder I breathe, the sicker I feel.

“Lylah,” Chace calls, trying to snap me out of my panic. He ushers me into the kitchen and holds on to my upper arms. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head and whisper, “No. Why is he doing this?”

“I wish I knew,” he replies, pulling me against his chest.

Closing my eyes, I sink into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his back.

“Detective Lina’s on her way, and cops outside are checking it out now,” Isaac says, stomping into the kitchen. “Are you all right, Lylah?”

Chace doesn’t let go, but I feel him shake his head.

I always try to put on a strong front. But Jake has stripped me of every ounce of strength I had. I need to get it together. Except I have to let myself be scared. That’s what my therapist would say.

I can hear the cops talking in the hallway, but thankfully, their voices are muffled, so I can’t make out what they’re saying.

“Where are Sienna and Charlotte?” I ask.

“Sienna’s still puking up her guts, and Charlotte’s crying in the living room. She didn’t want company,” Isaac replies.

Charlotte has always been a very private person, but I am surprised she wants to be alone. I don’t want to be alone ever again.

Then in a hushed voice, Isaac says, “He really cut out his heart? He didn’t just cut his chest but… I mean, how do you even…”

Chace shakes his head. “I don’t know, man.”

“His heart, Chace,” I whisper.

“I know.” His waving voice gives away his disgust and fear.

Jake is cutting out their hearts and leaving pigs’ hearts for us to find. I don’t know why he’s not using the real thing. I don’t understand what he’s doing with the real hearts or why he even feels the need to use something else.

To be honest, I don’t want to understand.

My words start tumbling out. “I can’t imagine what his family will go through when they’re told his heart turned up in a box! Well, his, Nora’s, or another pig’s. How can anyone be so callous? I should have just kissed him.”

Chace holds me so he can look into my eyes.

“This isn’t your fault, Lylah,” Chace says.

“He’s right. Jake is sick in the head. The dude needs to be placed in a psychiatric facility.”

“I think I need to sit down.” I pull out of Chace’s grip. Neither of them stops me as I leave the room. Charlotte wanted space, so rather than going all the way into the living room, I sit on the bottom step.

Chace follows me, moving so quietly I almost don’t hear him. He looks concerned, like he has no idea how to handle me right now.

Riley would know. He’s pulled me back from the brink and fixed me so many times. But I don’t want to be dependent on my big brother. I won’t call him to pick up my pieces. I’m supposed to be a fully functioning adult, and he deserves a normal life where he doesn’t have to cancel dates because his emotional wreck of a sister is having a meltdown. He said he met a nice girl a few weeks ago. My brother seems happy. I don’t want to diminish that with my drama.

It’s fine. I can handle this myself. Just breathe, Lylah, I tell myself. Deep breaths, in and out.

“Lylah.” Chace kneels in front of me. His deep, green eyes watch me with caution. “I need you to believe that all of this isn’t your fault.”

“Look, I know Jake is obviously ill, but I can’t help thinking that if I’d paid a little more attention, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If that is the case, then we’re all guilty. No one could have known what he was capable of.”

Logically, I know what he’s saying makes sense. But isn’t there something that we could have done? Something that would have prevented Sonny’s and Nora’s deaths? If we’d known—noticed—that Jake was suffering, we could have gotten him help, and we all would be walking a different path.

The doorbell rings, saving us from a conversation that would inevitably go in circles. Chace rises to his feet and goes to the door. Through the glass, I can see people in uniforms.

Detective Lina is the first one in, followed by Detective Alexander and three cops.

“Where is it?” Lina asks, her face ashen.

Chace nods to the floor.

The house is soon flooded with more cops and a forensics team. We move out of the way and watch from the kitchen. Our house looks like a circus scene—people everywhere and flashing lights from someone taking photos of the evidence.

Detective Lina spends a while with us, going through our statements. I’ve done this enough now that the process is familiar. But by the afternoon, I’m still thinking about the heart. I can’t stop thinking about the heart. It looked like a lump of beef in a box. But we’re not sure yet if it’s Sonny’s, Nora’s, or another pig’s.

The police are trying to keep the heart thing under wraps. The pig’s heart on the noticeboard was passed off as a prank, which the general public believes, because they don’t know that Sonny and Nora lost theirs. Chace was right. The police are keeping that fact a secret to prevent panic and potentially identify the killer.

When the police saw the contents of the box, it was the first time they looked a little lost. Detectives Lina and Alexander spoke in hushed voices with their shoulders slumped, looking less in control than they had been the last time I saw them. The only person with any control here is Jake. He’s proved that time and time again. Now he’s making human remains deliveries in the dead of night. There is a cop stationed outside, yet he still managed to get in. What could be next?

Detective Lina tells us the latest plan. Like last night, she wants to create a scenario to lure out the killer—then trap him. Later tonight, we are supposed to go to the Valentine’s firework display on campus, but I see that being as successful as trying to catch Jake at the club. Still, we have to try. Waiting for him to make a move will be too late for his next victim.

• • •

Charlotte flat-out refuses to come with us again, and I can’t really blame her.

Sienna, Chace, Isaac, and I are channeling all of our anger, grief, and hate into finding the killer at the fireworks show, so we’re going. We’ve all posted on our different social media pages that we’ll be there, hoping to make ourselves targets.

Detective Lina goes over the rules again before we leave. They’re obvious things like don’t chase Jake if we see him. As if that’s going to happen. I’m not running after a murderer! There will be a lot of cops around, double the amount they had at the club. One of them can take on Jake.

I hope it works.

• • •

That night, I pull on my coat and we head out the door. This time, we’re walking alone, and undercover cops will trail us.

“It’s hard to act normal,” Isaac says.

“That’s because you’re a freak, bro,” Chace replies, trying to lighten the mood.

Isaac punches Chace on the arm. “Shut up, dickhead. You know what I mean.”

Sienna rolls her eyes and gives me a grin. The banter is normal, like it used to be. I’ve missed the casual conversations and lighthearted bashing of one another.

“You’re both idiots,” I say.

But the closer we get to where the fireworks display is being held, the more nervous I become. “Do you think we have a good chance of catching him?” I ask as we arrive, making our way through the masses of people. It looks like the entire student body has turned up. Music plays in the background somewhere, but it’s barely audible over the sound of hundreds of voices.

Chace wraps his arm around my back, his fingers curling around my hip. “We have to believe so. Don’t leave my side, okay?”

Yeah, I have no problem with that.

Over the PA system, the university’s president makes a short speech before the display. He’s met with a deafening cheer, drowning out his words. I’m huddled in front of Chace with Sienna and Isaac beside us. We’ve moved into the crowd a little, but we’re close enough to the outskirts to make a run for it if we need to. I’ve lost track of the detectives, but they’ve promised to stay close.

I ball my hands into fists. Please let this work.

Above us, the sky lights up red with the first firework explosion of the night.

Valentine’s Day, well more like Valentine’s month, is under full swing now.

Campus is absolutely packed. People are standing on the grass in the hundreds, all staring up at the night sky.

The next fireworks go off with a bang that echoes through the night.

I half watch the display and half look around to see if I can spot the undercover cops and Jake. It’s impossible to see much though. It’s dark, obviously. Most of the streetlights are out until the fireworks are over, and there are so many people.

As it’s winter, there is a sea of hoodies, probably mostly men who don’t want to wear a coat for fear of being labeled a wimp. Any one of them could be Jake. I don’t really know the cops’ plan. Are they wandering around looking at the face of every person here? I can’t see what more they can do unless he tries to attack us, which doesn’t fill me with much confidence.

The fireworks finally finish with a round of applause, then the streetlights slowly blink on, and everyone heads to the clubs to party. The display only lasted fifteen minutes, but it felt a lot longer.

I’m bumped from all sides. Sienna and Isaac are close, but they’re separated with the mad rush of everyone who wants to be first at the bar. Chace is right behind me, watching for any signs of Jake.

I scan the outskirts of the crowd. The last time I glimpsed Jake, he was watching me from the doorway of the club. If he’s here, he’ll likely be situated to make a quick escape.

As the crowd thins, the streetlights suddenly die, cloaking the area in darkness.

People cheer loudly, the way they do if someone drops a glass in the dining hall. Instantly, I’m on edge. My heart races as my palms start to sweat.

“Chace!” I turn to reach for him, but he’s disappeared. I call to Sienna and Isaac, but they were farther away. I can’t see a thing. I blink to try to get my night vision. “Chace!”

Everyone starts to pull their phones from their pockets for light. I spin back. “Chace!” I shout. Where is he? People are being obnoxiously noisy, cheering and chanting now that the lights were off.

My body goes cold. This must be Jake’s doing. He’s coming for us.

All I can hear now is my heavy breathing.

“Chace!”

Dark shadows move around me, and I catch glimpses of faces as I stumble, frantically calling for my friends. I’m terrified that the next face I see will be Jake’s. I’d close my eyes if that weren’t more dangerous.

Why aren’t the lights coming back on?

My heart is beating so hard it hurts. I press a hand against my chest, willing my heart to slow down, and fumble for the flashlight feature on my phone with the other. I hold it up, lighting a short distance in front of me.

Chace isn’t anywhere. I can’t see him at all, and I didn’t hear him reply.

Someone smacks into my back, wrapping an arm around my waist. I freeze. Whoever it is, he’s strong and holds me so tight my ribs scream in protest. “Shh,” he hisses into my ear, and chills run down my spine.

It’s not Chace or Isaac. Could it be a cop? They would have said by now.

I don’t turn my head because I’m petrified of seeing whoever is behind me, of being able to identify my attacker. He starts to back up, forcing me to go with him. That’s when I struggle. A scream rips form my throat. But a large, gloved palm presses down hard over my mouth.

It’s Jake. It must be.

“Jake!” I yell into his hand, but I can hardly hear it.

“Shh,” he whispers in my ear again, so close I feel his hot breath against my neck. I squirm, but he has me in an iron grip.

Where are the cops, and why haven’t the lights come back on yet?

He drags me off the grass and down an alleyway between buildings. I lift my feet off the ground, twisting my body in a bid to get him to let go.

No one else is here. No one knows where I am or what’s happened. I can only rely on myself now. He could kidnap me, kill me—I need to fight.

His hand drops from my mouth and seals around my waist with the other.

“Help!” I shout as my voice cracks. “Get off—”

He chuckles and starts to smother me with his hand again, this time harder, so I’m unable to make a sound. Then his mouth clamps down on my neck. I feel teeth press into my skin above my jacket collar. I swear he’s going to pierce the skin.

I stop moving. Fear makes a statue of my body. Tears roll down my cheeks. Then, suddenly, I am released. His hands slam into my back. I stumble forward with a scream.

Gasping, I reach out to break my fall, but it’s too late. I hit the pavement with a scream. My palms sting. In the darkness, I can faintly see raw patches where the skin has broken.

Lights begin to flicker on in front of the buildings. Groaning, I look behind me, but he’s gone.

“Lylah!”

My head whips around, and I sag in relief. Chace runs toward me.

I push myself to my feet. “I-I’m okay,” I say as he reaches me.

“What happened? You’re shaking.”

I’m shaking?

Chace pulls me into his embrace. “What happened?” he demands. I can tell he’s upset, but trying to seem calm.

It takes me a moment to be able to speak. “He grabbed me. He dragged me back here, and then he shoved me and took off.”

“Lylah! Chace! There you are,” Detective Lina says breathlessly. She’s followed by the three cops who were supposed to be watching us. They have flashlights.

Stepping out of Chace’s arms, I relay the information again. Two of the three cops run off in the direction I point, but Jake—or whoever it was—is probably long gone.

My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. I know I have to tell her the rest of what happened, though it feels like a violation. “He bit me,” I mutter, looking down.

“Bit you?” Detective Lina repeats, her voice a little higher than usual.

Hooking my finger over the neckline in my coat, I pull it down. She leans in to get a decent look.

“I don’t think we’ll get any evidence from this. There are no indents and it’s fading quickly. We can swab for DNA though.”

Evidence? Like comparing the bite mark to dental records? I almost wish he’d bitten me harder so there would be something to work with.

I give my permission to swab the mark. I’ll do anything.

Chace hasn’t said a word.

“Did he say anything? Did you get a proper look at him?” the detective continues.

“He said shh a couple of times and laughed. I didn’t see him at all. He held me from behind. I think it was Jake.”

“Are you sure it was him?” she asks.

“Yeah…I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him shh before, but it could have been his voice. At least I think so. Everything happened so fast, and I was scared. I was struggling to get free.”

Detective Lina nods. “It’s understandable. I’m glad you are okay. Isaac and Sienna are already in a car on their way back to the house. Let’s get you all home.”

“Wait,” I say, bending down. There’s an envelope on the ground near where I fell. The detective takes the envelope from me and opens it. I crane my neck to read it over her shoulder.

My spine ripples with fear. Spinning around, I head toward the car, trying to even my breathing with one of my exercises. I feel so exposed.

“What did it say?” Chace asks, catching up to me and grabbing my hand.

This night needs to end.

Hell, this whole nightmare needs to end.

I tell him flatly, then say, “He proved that to be true.”

“I’m sorry, Lylah, I should have held on to you better so we wouldn’t have gotten separated. I tried to find you, to call for you, but it was dark, and everyone was so damn loud,” he says through gritted teeth, his forehead creased with guilt.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize. I lost you too.”

Clearing his throat, Chace rubs his jaw nervously. Why is he so uncomfortable?

“Your neck…”

“What about it?”

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine. It didn’t really hurt. I think I was in shock. I’ve never felt so vulnerable. He could have dragged me away and killed me.” I shudder.

When we reach the car that brought us here, Chace opens the back door and we slide in the back seat. Detective Lina and her partner get in the front.

“He didn’t kill me,” I repeat. But my nerves are frayed. Is he planning something bigger?

No one says anything. I’m sure Detective Lina has some theories, but she doesn’t share them—so I push.

“Tonight was about letting me know that he can do what he wants, wasn’t it? He didn’t kill me because he doesn’t want to—yet. But why did he come for me? If I’m not next on his hit list, why not go after someone else? I don’t get it.”

“Lylah, I wish I had the answers you’re looking for,” Detective Lina says. “But I agree that tonight was about fear. He probably hadn’t planned to harm anyone.”

“We may never understand,” Chace says. He reaches across the middle seat and tentatively puts his hand on my thigh. “But the important thing is that you are all right. You’re safe.”

I cover his hand with my own and lean my head back. In this moment, I believe him.