Page 41 of Twisted By Release


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I head upstairs. She needs time to process what we talked about, and I need time to think about what I’m going to tell her about her sister.

Because she can’t know everything.

How can I tell her that Lucy was an absolute psycho?

That more than once, her sister threatened to kill me? That her sister would show up in the middle of the night at my door, knocking, screaming, crying hysterically, wildly oscillating between extremely giddiness and wild bouts of rage? It’ll only make her think I really did throw Lucy off that cliff.

But the truth is, I didn’t do it.

For all her flaws, I liked Lucy. Lesley liked Lucy. Lots of people enjoyed Lucy, at least when she wasn’t in one of her moods.

I didn’t kill the girl.

But someone did.

Chapter15

Kaye

Lesley stands in front of the mirror in her room and does her makeup. “The societies here are simple,” she says, doing a dark eye as I watch. I’m ready to go, but she’s taking her time, and insists that we’d look stupid if we were the first ones at the party. I don’t know anything about being cool or parties, so I assume she’s right. “They’re filled with stupid guys that want to drink and sleep with pretty girls. Don’t let their fancy names and their money trick you into thinking they’re anything more than rich fraternities.”

“When I first came here, I thought they’d be way more intimidating than they are.”

“Like I said, guys are simple here, even at this privileged shitshow of a school.”

“Not all guys though.” I glance toward the wall meaningfully.

She shrugs and gestures assent. “Fine, Emilio isn’t simple. But most of them? All they want is a cold beer and a nice pair of lips wrapped around their dick. If you make them think they have a chance, most of them will give you whatever you want.”

“That seems—” I wave a hand in the air, not sure how to say it without being insulting.

“Like you’re whoring yourself? Think of it more like seduction.” She laughs to herself and shakes her head. That’s one way of putting it at least. I grin back at her, feeling on edge but starting to loosen up. I have to admit, when Lesley gets dressed up and smiles, she’s very pretty. “You don’tactuallysleep with them. You just… put out the vibe.”

I tug at my hair. “I have no vibes.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re pretty.” She glances at me in the mirror. “Prettier than your sister.”

I blush and look down at my lap. We haven’t talked about Lucy yet, but I know Lesley knows who I am by now. I figured Emilio would tell her, but I didn’t know how to broach the subject without being an asshole. My curiosity is raging though, because if anyone knows what happened to my sister aside from Emilio, it would be her.

“You two were friends, right?”

“I was one of the few people in this hellhole that understood your sister.”

I chew my lip. “That’s good. I’m glad she had friends, you know, before she died.”

“She had a lot of friends. And a lot of enemies. Your sister was unique like that, I guess.” She sighs and stands. “Before you ask, no, I don’t know the full story about what happened with her and Emilio. He says he tried to save her and I believe him. But you’ll have to come to that conclusion on your own.” She rubs her face and glares at me. “Look, I’m not mad at you for not saying anything sooner about who you are. I get why you’re here. You wanted to see if Emilio killed her, right? But I can promise you, he didn’t. Everyone thinks he did, but it wasn’t him. He wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you sure?” I ask softly.

She nods sharply, eyes hard. “I’m sure. Now come on. We have some work to do.”

We head out together into the cool night. I’m very aware of Emilio standing on the porch with Terrence and Jayson drinking cold, frosty beers, and watching me intently. I like the way his eyes light up as I pass, like he can’t stop himself from staring at me in my short-shorts and my low-cut shirt. It wasn’t my idea to dress up but—well, Lesley’s right. We have work to do.

The gravel crunches underfoot as we head to campus. The Cask and Barrel House is close to the beach where most of the residences are located. Calico is the only outlier—Emilio can’t help but be different, even if it would be better to have an oceanfront property.

Lesley seems somber, quiet, and I wrap my arms around myself to keep the chill away. The island feels oppressive at night, like there are eyes in the woods, peering out from the jungle.

I know it’s absurd—the island is barely bigger than the campus, there isn’t anywhere for people to hide—but I still feel like I’m being watched.

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