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“What are you doing, Soulless?” Vance asks, eyeing me.
“I can’t open the door.”
His brow furrows, but then he laughs. Like a fucking hyena. “No shit?” He grins. “I got you.” He motions me up, pulling out a switchblade.
“No thanks,” I toss at him, pressing my back harder into the building.
“Come on, Soulless. Don’t be a scaredy-cat, I won’t cut you.”
Sighing, I struggle to rise, glaring at Vance as I do. Turning around in front of him, I close my eyes, waiting for him to nip me with his knife. My arms fall free, and I almost groan in relief. “Thanks,” I mumble.
I open the door after scanning my badge. Prim basically knocks me over to get in, slamming the door in Vance’s face. He grins at her, hands pressing flat to the glass, and he mouths something. Prim smirks, tossing her hair over her shoulder and walking ahead of me.
“I was always told not to tease a hungry animal with food,” I say.
Prim shrugs. “He doesn’t scare me.”
“You’re the only one,” I whisper.
7
Brixley
I frownat my phone as I replay the voicemail in my head. “Hi, Brixley. This is Sharon from Club Nine. Turns out it’s not working out with you, so I’m letting you go.”
I’ve worked there one night. I made a shit ton of money. I’m not sure howit’s not working out.I haven’t even been given a chance. I walk into the kitchen, my eyes connecting with Prim’s, and she frowns. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I’ve been fired?” I’m still in disbelief by this.
Prim frowns, shaking her head. “Did you do something wrong? Did something happen? Are you—”
I hold up a hand to stop her. Primrose Thatcher is a very curious person. As if she’s never seen or experienced the outside world before. But it is far too early to be answering all her questions. “Prim, please.”
Her shoulder slump. “Sorry, I know you haven’t even fully woken up yet.”
She pets her kitten, Samson. A horrible name for a cat. Then she looks toward the window, before saying, “I was thinking of going into town to grab breakfast. Want to come?”
“Yeah, let me slip on some shoes.” I grab my Converse, thinking they pair up nicely with my t-shirt dress, and grab my purse.
Prim and I walk along the sidewalk. It takes a while for an Uber to make it this far, so we decided to look around campus for a while. There is a crowd of people around the fountain, their phones held high as they snap pictures and video something I can’t see.
“What are they looking at?” Prim asks.
“I’m not sure.” I shake my head, pushing my way through the crowd until I’m in front of the fountain. My mouth parts on a soft gasp, my stomach twisting, churning like sour milk. I hear Primrose mumble apologies as she comes up next to me. “Oh my god,” she cries on a broken whisper.
The guy from last night, the one who threatened Amiyah. His skin stretched over the statue in the fountain. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, his skin has been pulled to the seams, wrapping around the statue of the woman, frozen in time. His mouth is gone. Leaving only half of his face over the statue’s head. My eyes fall away from the image in front of me, connecting with Amiyah’s wide ones. She looks up at Madden in horror, a single tear cutting over the sharp curve of her cheek. Madden stares down at her, his face a mask of indifference.
“Brixley,” Prim whispers, her fingers tangling with mine.
Her voice jerks me back to reality, and I squeeze her hand. “Come on.”
I push us through the crowd, the horror almost knocking me to my knees as I catch my breath. Prim bends over at the waist. Dry heaving. I rub her back, looking frantically around the campus, but there are no other Misfits in sight. I wonder if Madden brought Amiyah here to show her what he did for her. If maybe he thought she’d be proud.
Before, I was curious—thought maybe it would be cool to catch a killer, play investigator.
Now, I have to prove it. To stop this group from killing for sport.
Get them before they get me.
