Page 121 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“Hmm?” I ask, turning to glance at her. Between us, Sophie is curled up under a giraffe-patterned blanket, with a stuffed giraffe in her arms, and leaning on my shoulder. She hasn’t said a word since the movie started, though as far as I know, she’s still awake and interested in whatever’s happening on screen.

“I was asking about your plans tonight.” Reagan gives me that apologetic, sheepish smile again. “Were they with that guy? The one from Manic Manor?”

“I didn’t realize you remembered him.” Absently, I pick at a loose string on the arm of the threadbare couch. “Yeah. That was the first time we’d seen each other in a while, and we’ve been sort of reconnecting. It’s nice.” The words are as honest as I’m willing to be with her.

“Was he the one who took you home after what happened in the slaughterhouse?” She isn’t looking at me anymore, and her eyes are fixed on the screen, though her distracted expression makes me wonder if she’s actually paying attention.

“Yeah. He was outside. He’d just gone through and I ran into him.” The partial lie comes easily to my lips, and I turn to look at the TV as well, my hand inching toward my phone. My last message to Cass had gone unanswered, and I definitely don’t want to be the stereotypical, needy girlfriend.

Hopefully he’s having a better night in Akron than I am here.

“He seemed weird.” It takes her a moment to say the words. “I don’t know…he just seemed really off when he was talking to you. You looked sort of nervous of him, too. Hey, wasn’t he there when Lacey was killed?”

Surprised, I glance down at Sophie, who’s very much awake and can hear everything Reagan is saying. “Maybe we can have this conversation another time?” I hint, glaring at Reagan to try to communicate that this is turning into nightmare inducing territory for little kids.

She looks down as well, biting her lip sheepishly, and mumbles an apology to Sophie before fidgeting uncomfortably on her side of the couch.

“Can’t believe you intimidated them off with a hammer you found on the floor,” she says with a snort a few minutes later. But I’m back to dissociating, so the words barely sink in. Reagan getting up gets my attention, though, and I blink up at her. “I’m going to go disrespect the upstairs bathroom,” she says in reply to my questioning look.

“Why upstairs?”

“It’s nicer.” With a mock salute, she disappears into the hallway, her footsteps on the stairs thumping against my eardrums a second later.

Something feels off about what she said, but for some reason my brain isn’t working well enough tonight to figure out what exactly. Though I’m starting to wonder if everything seems suspicious because I’m so frustrated with how my night is going.

“She was acting strange before you got here.” Sophie’s voice is tiny and almost inaudible over the movie, but I look down at her, processing her words.

“What?”

“Reagan wasn’t being nice. She told me I had to get you to come in, that I’d be in trouble if you didn’t. She wasn’t being nice.” Sophie repeats that part, like it’s the most important one. “I’m happy you’re here,” she adds, scooting closer to me and wrapping her arms around mine. “She wasn’t acting okay when you weren’t. Then she kept checking the time and snapping at me. I was scared.”

My stomach twists as I look at her, and suddenly the part of Reagan’s statement that had me confused clicks into place.

“Okay, Sophie,” I say, easing to my feet. “Reagan just gets a little anxious sometimes. Everything’s fine, all right?” Smiling, reach out to tap the back of her hand. “It wasn’t cool of her to make you scared, and I’ll make sure she knows that. Here.” I hand her the remote, and the rest of my box of raisins, which she surprisingly enjoys. “You can totally change this if you want. I’ll go yell at Reagan while she’s trapped in the bathroom.”

Sophie doesn’t return my teasing smile, and I can’t find the words to reassure her as she huddles under the blanket. “Don’t be gone long,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be alone with her tonight if she’s going to get mad and anxious again.”

“Hey, no worries, okay?” It’s hard to maintain my facade of calmness, but I manage. “I won’t leave until your parents come home. Reagan said they’ll be back by eleven, right?” I check my phone, happy to see that it’s already ten forty-one.

“What?” Sophie looks up at me, confused. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, already on my way to the stairs. “Reagan said⁠—”

“My parents won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” Sophie cuts me off in a small voice. “Reagan knows that, too. She had a check in with them right before you got here, and confirmed they won’t be here until nine in the morning, at least.”

For a few seconds, all I can do is stand there with the movie playing in the background. The stark light shines across Sophie’s face as she stares at me, but I’m trying to not give her any sort of reaction to scare her.

Not until I figure out what’s going on with Reagan, anyway. There’s a chance Sophie’s wrong or lying. Or maybe Reagan misunderstood…something.

Though I’m not sure what could be confusing about when Sophie’s parents are coming home. “I’ll yell at her for you,” I say again, forcing myself to start up the stairs. “Don’t worry, Soph. Everything’s all good.”

Except somehow, I’m really starting to doubt it is.

26

Walking up the stairs toward where I hope the bathroom is, feels like it drags on for too long. I drag my feet down the hallway, finding a bedroom that has to be Sophie’s, and another with the door partially closed. That one I push open, revealing a larger bedroom bereft of many personal touches. A mirror on the far wall over the dresser shows me my wary expression, and I frown at myself before looking at the other door in the room.

“Reagan?” I call, no louder than I need to. “You in there?” I’m not sure where else she can be. Especially with the door closed and the light on.