Saturday
February 10
I sit at the small bistro table in the coffee shop and fiddle with my necklace. Two cops sit at a table next to ours. My nerves are shot. Chace is still at the counter, waiting for our order. Chace, my crush, and the guy my brother seems to think could be a murderer.
There is no way Chace has anything to do with these deaths. Absolutely none. He doesn’t have it in him, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have had the time—he’s been with me.
I shake the thought from my head, annoyed at my brother for planting such a horrible seed.
Chace looks over and gives a wave. He’s been standing there for more than five minutes. How long does it take to make a cappuccino and a latte?
Coming here was Chace’s idea, so we have to stay, but I hate the way we’re being watched and gossiped about. Across from us is a group of four women, probably in their early twenties. They lean in, and the brunette opposite me moves her mouth at a hundred miles an hour, speaking in a hushed voice. Her eyes lift to us, but they’re back down the next second.
This attempt to keep some normality in our lives is not working. I angle my body away from her so she can only see my profile.
“Like, I would be so upset if any of my friends died. I would do something! If there’s a killer after them, why are they in public?”
The voice comes from behind me from a different table, so I can’t see who’s speaking. But I hate them. Hate that they can’t see how much we are hurting. Hate being the center of rumors. Sinking lower in my seat, I silently curse Chace’s idea for getting out of the house.
We should lay low.
Chace finally gets our drinks and comes over. His head is high, green eyes focused on mine, unwavering, like he’s willing me to stay calm.
I’m not calm. My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty, and I just want everyone to let us drink our coffee in peace.
“People are talking,” I mutter as he sits down across from me.
His left shoulder lifts in a lazy shrug that screams Who cares? I wish I didn’t care.
“Let ’em, Lylah. Their opinions don’t matter. And we deserve a moment to step away from all of our sadness and stress.” He places my latte in front of me and kicks up his leg, resting his ankle on his knee. He seems relaxed. I wish I were.
I take a sip of my drink and force my back straight. I don’t have to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing how much they’re bothering me.
It’s a lot, by the way.
Chace smirks, his eyes glowing with humor. “Much better. Now tell your face you’re not listening to them.”
I mouth piss off and take another sip.
“Are you going out with Sienna and Charlotte tonight?” he asks.
Raising my eyebrow, I put down my mug. “No. Absolutely not. Nope.”
“Lylah, come on—”
I’m finding it really hard to be here, so how would I survive a more crowded setting with a hundred people talking about us? “It doesn’t feel right,” I reply.
“The night will be whatever you make it. Sienna thinks you need to do something that doesn’t involve obsessing over Jake, and I agree. It’s unhealthy. Isaac would tell you to go. He would tell you get out there and show this fucker he won’t break us. Besides, Sienna has managed to convince Charlotte to go out, so you can’t flake on them.”
But he’s killed three people. I’d say we’re all pretty broken. Though Chace has a good point. I’m just not sure it’s good enough to convince me to change my mind. Charlotte, Sienna, and I would often go out together for a drink, and we always had fun. If I could ignore everyone around me, a night with my girlfriends is probably what I need.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Thinking is the problem, Lylah. All we’ve done since we found Sonny is think. Go out and have fun for Sonny and Isaac. Please!”
“You’re not going out.”
He laughs. A full belly laugh I haven’t heard for a long time. Butterflies swarm my stomach. I love that.
“And the award for most childish comeback goes to…”
“Very funny, Chace. I’m merely pointing out that you’re not following your own advice.”
“Charlotte and Sienna haven’t invited me out though, have they?” he says with a hint of sarcasm. They only want to go out because they need a distraction. We’re being threatened—and in our own home—so it doesn’t exactly make any of us feel secure there. “I would usually go out with Sonny and Isaac.”
I dip my head, my face heating in shame. If I touched my cheeks, I’d probably get a third-degree burn. Here I am moaning about being scared to go out with the girls, when the guys Chace used to go out with are both dead.
Before I can apologize, he says, “Don’t tell me you’re sorry. And stop looking like that. You’ve done nothing wrong. Lylah? Hey, up here.”
He reaches over the table and cups my chin. I meet his intense gaze.
“Stop stressing over everything.”
Wincing, I reply, “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t think.”
Dropping his hand, he sighs and changes the subject. “What’s your brother up to? Is he staying with us?”
I shake my head. “Definitely not. He’ll be staying in a hotel. I like having him close, but I can’t have him in the house. He can be a bit overbearing. He’s probably yelling at the detectives right now.”
Chace grins. “I wish we could see that.”
I don’t. My brother’s embarrassing when he gets going. I understand he’s only looking out for me, but every time he defends me, I end up feeling like an incompetent child. “Can we drink up and leave?”
Raising his eyebrows, he asks, “Why? Do you have a hot date?”
I give him a smile. My heart is flying. Rolling my eyes, I reply, “Yes.”
For a second, it’s as if we’re the only two people in the world.
“Let’s go.”
I stand, draining the rest of my latte.
Chace laughs. “You don’t need to have every last drop.”
Putting the mug on the table, I frown. “Do you even know me?”
Chace helps me put on my coat. He didn’t bring one. Idiot. It’s freezing outside.
He waits for me to lead the way, but he stays close as we pass tables of people who conveniently stop their conversation as we pass.
Not obvious at all.
I splay my fingers on the door, shoving it open. Outside, I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“That wasn’t too bad after all, huh?” Chace says.
When I open my eyes, he’s smirking again.
“Sometimes I really dislike you.”
“I don’t believe you, Lylah.”
Yeah, I couldn’t convince myself of that either. Not even the times I cried myself to sleep because I saw him out with another girl. There have been many, many times since we met that I wanted to hate him. But I’ve never managed it.
Chace and I walk across campus, our two officers still following us. I’m grateful for them, but I hate that we need around-the-clock protection.
It’s only 1:00 p.m. but it’s getting dark thanks to gray rain clouds. It’s also damp and cold. There aren’t many people around. Campus is always quiet on Saturdays.
The few people milling around are watching me and Chace while pretending to look everywhere but at us. Everyone seems to have a theory on why Jake would want to harm me and my friends. The most popular one is that I cheated on Jake with Chace. They don’t have a clue what the truth is, but that doesn’t stop them running their mouths.
“That was a massive fail, Chace, admit it.” I force my gaze to hold his.
“You love going out for coffee with me whether we have an audience or not. You know that.”
“Have I ever denied it?” The words leave my mouth before my brain full engages. I wince. That didn’t come across as desperate at all. Well done, Lylah!
The rest of my housemates are aware of my feelings for Chace, Sonny and Isaac used to give me knowing looks, and Sienna and Charlotte and I have talked about my crush many times, but I don’t know if Chace is aware. I’m probably not the best at concealing my emotions, so maybe he knows.
That’s not very encouraging since he’s never mentioned it.
Recently, though, even before this mess, we’ve gotten closer. And he was definitely jealous when I went for a drink with Zak.
“No, you’ve never denied it,” he whispers, looking into my eyes like I’m hiding the answer to life.
We’ve stopped walking. When did that happen?
I swallow what feels like a mouthful of sand as Chace’s gaze stays glued to mine.
Is he going to kiss me? Oh God, please say he is!
“You okay, Lylah?” he asks. I think he was trying to tease me, but his voice is breathy, and his chest is rising and falling too fast.
I nod. “You okay, Chace?”
Damn, I was going for calm, but my voice comes out like Minnie Mouse.
His mouth curves in the most beautiful smile. “I know I shouldn’t even be thinking about this right now, not with everything going on, but I can’t help it.”
I’m lost, and I really, really want to know what he’s thinking about. I wait for him to finish his thought.
“You, Lylah. I don’t even know when I started thinking of you as more than a friend. But I want more. This is crap timing with all these goddamn awful things going on, but I don’t want to wait. I want something good to make living in this nightmare bearable.”
“Oh.”
Yep. After seventeen months of wanting to be with him, he tells me he has feelings for me, and my reply is oh. Is there anyone out there more awkward than me?
His dark-blond eyebrows raise, and he tilts his head to the side. “Oh?”
“No, I didn’t mean that.” I hold up my hands. “That came out wrong. I was stunned. But my mind is working now. At least I think it is. What I wanted to say, and what I should have said instead of being a monumental—”
I’m silenced by his lips.
He steps closer, holding me against his chest with his strong arms.
I imagined what it would be like to kiss Chace a million times, but my fantasies were nothing compared to this.
Warmth spreads through my body as his lips brush mine with the most maddening pressure. My fingers push into the muscle of his lower back. He pulls me tighter, and I’m sure I’m going to faint.
Chace’s fingertips slide down to my hips, driving me insane.
I run my hands up his chest, feeling every indent of muscle, and then circle my hands around his neck. I feel his smile against my lips.
All too soon, Chace pulls away. I bite my lip, but it isn’t because I’m anxious. Wow, and I thought I liked his smile before. He plays it cool, but he looks as giddy as I feel. I know I’m grinning like an idiot, and I don’t care.
After a moment, Chace says, “Well, we should get home. You’ve got a girls’ night to get ready for.”
Suddenly, I don’t want to go.
So I don’t come across as a lovesick fool, I nod. “Yeah, let’s go.” Also, we’re just feeding the cheating on Jake theory by being out together.
When we get home, Chace heads straight to his room, and I go to mine. We held hands on the way back, but neither of us said a word, so I don’t really know what’s going to happen with us. Usually I would obsess over that, but I think we both made it clear how we feel.
There’s plenty of time to discuss the details.
I spend the rest of the afternoon in my room, then take my time getting ready in the evening, curling my hair, picking out a killer black dress and heels, and applying a subtle amount of makeup.
I’m ready before Sienna, but Charlotte is already waiting in the living room. Her almost white hair is ironed straight with the front pinned back. She’s wearing a knee-length navy dress with a modest neckline. She’s never been one for revealing too much skin.
Sienna comes down, her heels clicking on the wooden stairs. Her dress is royal blue and just barely covers her butt, the neckline plunging to show off her cleavage.
“Ready?” I ask. This feels wrong, but I put a smile on my face.
Even Sienna, the party queen, seems less than enthusiastic. Yeah, it’s Saturday. But we all need a few hours when we’re not stressing about a killer. I spend most of my time worrying who Jake will come for next—if he’ll come for me. A few glasses of wine with my girls will be a good distraction. And it’s a massive middle finger to Jake from Isaac and Sonny.
I don’t see Chace before we leave because he’s in his room, but I’ll find him when I get back. The wine will give me the confidence to strut into his room and kiss him until we’re both light-headed. The thought makes me smile.
We leave the house with our three chaperones in tow and head into town. There are cops back home with Chace too.
“Something is definitely going on with Lylah,” Sienna says in a dramatic voice, disregarding the fact that I’m right there.
“I agree,” Charlotte replies. “I can only assume it has something to do with a certain green-eyed hunk back home.”
“Do you want me to leave while you talk about me?” I ask.
“Are you two together yet?” Sienna asks. Her eyes examine me for any hint of a lie.
“Maybe?” I can feel myself blushing.
She claps her hands together. “Finally! But what do you mean by maybe?”
“We both admitted how we feel about each other, and then we kissed. I think he got what I meant through my rambling.”
Thankfully, we arrive at our favorite bar before I have to answer any more questions. I push through the door first to guarantee that, the girls and our undercover police escorts right behind me. We’ve only had protection for a few days, but I’m forcing myself to pretend this is normal. Like Chace said, we have to carry on. Jake can’t win.
“There’s a table,” I say, pointing to one of the tall tables with stools. “I’ll get the first round. Rosé?”
“Perfect,” Sienna replies, linking arms with Charlotte and leading her to the table.
I head to the bar, knowing one of the officers will be close. “Three glasses of rosé, please,” I say to the bartender.
He stills and blinks a few times before responding. He must recognize me. “Sure. Large glass or small?”
Swallowing, I clear my throat. “Large. Definitely large.”
The bartender gets our drinks, and I pay. He avoids eye contact throughout the whole transaction, looking uncomfortable as he hands the drinks over. I mutter a thanks and head back to my friends.
It doesn’t matter what the bartender thinks of me. Besides, he might not be passing judgement. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say. There’s not much you can say in situations like this—even I don’t know what to say.
Back at the table, Sienna holds up her glass. “To Isaac and Sonny.”
Charlotte raises her wine and says, “We miss you guys.”
“We love you,” I add quietly, and we all take a sip.
Out of nowhere, a guy wearing a tracksuit hustles over and slaps an envelope in the middle of our table. “This is for you.”
I practically leap off my stool, pushing myself away from the table where the envelope sits.
No.
Not again.
Please.
Before our police protection can respond, Sienna digs her acrylic nails into the guy’s arm. “Who gave you this?” she demands.
He wrenches himself out of her grasp. “Don’t touch me, bitch. Some dude in a black hoodie gave me thirty bucks to deliver it. Back off.”
I can’t stop staring at the envelope. I’m petrified to find out what’s inside.
The officers take over. One pulls the guy to the side, while the other two close in on us.
“We’re leaving,” one of them says, picking up the envelope with a gloved hand.
It’s thicker than the preceding notes.
What could it be?
The three of us follow the cops outside, one ushering the deliverer by the arm.
Outside the bar is eerily quiet. At least the area is well lit.
“I need to see what’s in there,” I say. “Please, just one look.”
He raises his eyebrow and then sighs, conceding. “One quick look.” Tipping the contents into the palm of his other gloved hand, he looks up at me.
“Oh, God,” I whisper as my lungs deflate.
There are small Polaroid pictures of me, Sienna, and Charlotte out on campus, in the coffee shop, at the library, and near our house. All candid. We had no idea someone was taking our photo. There is one, just one, of me and Chace in the editing suite. We are sitting close together, our heads almost touching. It was a completely innocent moment, but it could definitely be construed the wrong way.
“What is wrong with Jake?” Sienna rages, glaring at the photos.
“That’s enough. I’m taking this man in for questioning and giving the envelope to evidence. My colleagues will take you home,” the officer who grabbed the delivery guy says. He handcuffs the man who delivered the note as he protests his innocence. He’s probably just a pawn in Jake’s game.
The officer stuffs the photos back in the envelope and hands them over for processing.
“Thank you,” I say. I know he probably shouldn’t have shown us yet, but I appreciate that he did. This is our life, and we’d likely be shown it at some point anyway.
The other officers escort us to the sidewalk toward home. “Come on, ladies. We’ll take your statements at your house.”
I nod robotically and do as I’m told, but my legs feel like they’re made of concrete as I walk toward home in a daze.