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Mygun trained on me.
I see it, and I still check my waistband, as if Daisy’s simply holding an identical gun. It’s only as I feel nothing there that the last split second comes back to me.
I lunged... and Daisy grabbed me by the arms. A knee in the stomach and down I went, and she just plucked the gun from my waistband as I fell.
I look up at her, and I laugh. I laugh too loud and too long, until my sides ache. Then I collapse onto my back and gaze up at her.
“That is one kick-ass move, girlfriend,” I say.
Her lips tighten at the last word, and I feel...
I feel like when I was twelve, and I had a girl-crush on the twelve-year-old next door. We’d moved in at the beginning of summer, and I didn’t know anyone, and Tara took me under her wing. Tara was everything—whip-smart and cool-smooth and pixie-pretty. I wanted nothing more than to be her friend, and I thought I was until I bought her a BFF bracelet, and she took both halves. Clearly, I’d bought it for her to share with her actual BFF. After all, I was just the new kid next door.
I’m lying on the floor, with Daisy holding a gun on me, asking what I’ve done with her boyfriend, and I’m hurt—yes, hurt. Rejected, yet again.
I laugh, and it comes out as a snigger, which I don’t intend. Her eyes narrow, and her grip on the gun tightens. Her index finger, though, remains on the grip.
Daisy has more trigger control than me, too. Not surprisingly.
“I’ve called the police,” she says. “That’s why the water was running so long. To cover the call.” She holds out Tom’s cell phone, the screen showing the last call—to 911 mere minutes ago.
She’s speaking calmly, but she keeps adjusting her grip, sweat trickling down one cheek despite the air conditioning. She’s thinking of Liam. Thinking of what I did to him and trying very, very hard not to think of what I might have done to Tom.
“Liam was an accident,” I say.
Her lips twitch. This isn’t what she wants to talk about.
“He threatened me with your gun,” I say. “I got it away from him, just like you got it away from me. I only meant to threaten him back.”
“And it just went off?”
“I hear the sarcasm in your voice, but yes, it did. I put my finger on the trigger to show him I was serious, and that was a very, very bad decision. He grabbed the gun, and it fired. You probably won’t believe that, but I wanted someone to know the truth.”
“You tried to frame me. You put the gun and his phone in my room.”
“You weren’t going to jail, Daisy. The phone wouldn’t have had your prints on it. There’s no proof that you fired the gun. I just wanted you to get spooked and run. Like a herd of deer when a wolf comes along. Make one doe take off, knowing she’ll outrun the danger, and give the others time to escape.”
“That’s not how deer do it. That’s not how any animal does it. They protect each other until they can’t.”
“Well, I guess that’s why I always sucked at group projects. That was my plan, though. You run, and they chase, and we both get away.” I meet her gaze. “I’m not trying to defend my choices. Accident or not, I did kill Liam.”
“And Tom?”
“He’s in the basement crawlspace.”
Her breathing quickens, coming in short and fast bursts through parted lips. “You killed—”
“No. I took him hostage while I figured out what to do next. I thought he was conning you. Conning both of us. He’s alive and well.”
Her gaze shifts in the direction of the basement crawlspace hatch. Debating whether to trust me. Will she be the panicked girlfriend, running to ensure her lover is alive... and giving me the chance to turn the tables? Or will she harden her heart and stand fast just a little longer?
When you first came here, Daisy, I’d have guessed door number one all the way. You’d race off to check on Tom while waggling a finger at me and telling me to stay where I am. You might even have put the gun down in your distracted rush. But you aren’t who I thought you were, and I don’t just mean your identity.
You’ll glance at that door and feel guilty for not checking on him, but you’ll tell yourself—rightly—that it doesn’t matter. If I’m lying, he’s already dead. If he’s fine, he’ll still be fine in five minutes.
“He didn’t con you,” I say. “He was trying to trick me into confessing to Liam’s murder. Tom’s a good guy, and I could say you’re lucky to have him. But honestly, I think it’s the other way around.”
Her lips tighten again as she hears my words and interprets false praise and is insulted that I think she’d fall for that.
