Not only the idea that Rook and Harper knew each other well enough to hang out, but to, apparently, know each other enough to torture a guy together. I wasn’t sure that any amount of thinking about this would make it make sense.
I heard Rook’s bike pull up ten minutes after I made it to my room, but I hid. I couldn’t face him, not when I could barely get my thoughts straight.
The front door slammed, and I could hear him stomping up the steps.
“Regan!” he yelled, sounding more mad than concerned.
I stayed quiet, not moving from my spot in one of the spare rooms. I knew if I saw him now, I would give in, and I couldn’t do that.
He stomped through the house, walking past the door I was behind a few times as he yelled for me more.
Another ten minutes went by before the house went silent. I pulled the door open, peeking out into the hall. I didn’t hear or see anything, so I stepped out.
His bike started, the rumble echoing into the house and making me freeze.
When the whine of the bike finally disappeared and the house went silent, I walked back into my room and screamed. The red words dripping down my window made my heart race.
Call me.
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, hitting Rook’s name.
“Is this your blood or someone else’s?” I asked the second I heard the call connected.
I could hear his bike faintly in the background. “You are home. Should I turn around or are you going to hide from me again?”
“Is it yours or someone else’s?” I asked again.
“Does it matter? It worked. You called.”
“Whose is it?”
“Mine. Why are you hiding from me? What you saw wasn’t?—”
“I know exactly what I saw. My best friend and the guy I just slept with, killing someonetogether. What kind of fucked up idea is that? I don’t even want to know how you talked Harper into that. Let alone what you think you are doing with Harper. I don’t want to see you right now, so don’t you dare come back here. And you know what? You’re going to respect that, Rook. You are going to respect that I don’t want to see you and leave me alone right now.”
“Regan, that is not what happened. We were?—”
“Shut up and don’t call me again. And don’t come here to do this creepy shit ever again, either.”
I hung up, throwing the phone onto my bed before I followed, flopping down onto my stomach.
Maybe this was the sign from the universe I had been looking for. Like a big, light up neon sign telling me that trying to date a serial killer might not be the best choice in life.
Morning light streamed in and I heard the door to my room open. I didn’t look up, already knowing it was either Harper or Rook.
“We need to talk,” Harper said. I peaked out from under the blankets, seeing her standing at the end of my bed with her hands on her hips.
“I know.”
“I should have talked to you first. I should have brought you with me,” she said.
I sat up, pulling the blankets with me. “I don’t get why you didn’t. Or what you were even doing? Did Rook make you do something?”
She sat down, already shaking her head. “No, nothing like that. I have a job,” she blurted out.
“With Rook?” My eyes felt like they bulged out of my head. He couldn’t have really hired Harper, right?
“Oh my god, no. No! Down at a little shop in town. I’ve needed some money with my parents dealing with their divorce, but the manager is this creepy old man. Well, you saw him. He…” Her words died out, her lip curling. “He was trying to feel me up, and I was worried it wasn’t going to stop.”
