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He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “Yeah? What you been through that you could understand any of this with your futile little problems?” he asks me in a falsely mocking voice.
Eight months ago, my parents were murdered by a man who tried to rape my little sister. And I killed him. A month later, I lost the only man I ever loved. He died inches from me as I begged for help to hurry. I could tell him all that, but he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to know me on that level.
“You know nothing about my life. You don’t know anything AT ALL about my fucking life. I understood what you were doing. You don’t have to act like an asshole, even though that role sticks to you. I’m not going to go around telling everyone what just happened,” I spit back in his direction.
He takes the hit but moves on. “We’ll meet later to talk about the case,” he says in a voice so neutral that an uncomfortable chill runs down my back.
He stares at my knotted fingers as if he’s holding back from touching them, from taking my hands and squeezing them in his.
“I think you already know where the door is.”
I lift my chin, give him one last look, and walk out of the room, not looking back.
Be damned, Tucker Bomley.
21. Surprise Guest
Iris
I try not to worry about his absence, but I can’t help it. Since the beginning of the class, my gaze keeps landing on the seat Tucker usually occupies in the B4 lecture hall. The mystery of Debbie has been tormenting me all weekend. Ever since I left his house on Friday night, ideas have been spinning around in my head, never leaving me alone. Okay, he’s not a killer, he told me he didn’t kill her. But what happened? What was he hiding behind that anger and discomfort? And why isn’t he here today?
I know that I stepped into something that was none of my business. I came to a place I shouldn’t have been and saw things I shouldn’t have seen. But I can’t stop thinking about it.
Professor Richards’ loud voice pulls me out of my thoughts:
“And finally, don’t forget your group assignments! I want to see reflection, I want you to try to understand, I want to see reasoning. Don’t give me an all-black or all-white result, I want contradictions, opinions that clash.”
Well, for that to happen, I’d have to get my hands on Tucker first!
I mentally replay Professor Richards’ words as I leave the lecture hall. I think that life is sometimes all black and white, and that people are sometimes just psychopaths. And, to be honest, I don’t see how I could have an opinion that would contradict Tucker’s about Mikael Larey. Because he sounds like a fucking murderer to me.
“Iris!” a female voice snaps at my back as I walk down the hallway.
I find Yeleen leaning against a wall and Sarah standing next to her. As Yeleen smiles widely at me, Sarah purses her lips and squints at me. I barely have time to join them when Sarah moves away from Yeleen quickly, swaying her hips exaggeratedly.
Good riddance.
“How are you?” Yeleen begins cheerfully.
I nod with a small smile, wondering what she wants. She’s a little too friendly, too excited. Something is wrong, but what? “Great,” I answer anyway, “and you?”
She nods vigorously, a smile still stuck to her lips.
I can’t take it anymore, so I lean towards her. “Okay, what’s going on? You killed someone, and you need help hiding a body?”
Her expression changes. A real smile appears on her face as she drops her mask of fake enthusiasm. “Nope, but I know who to turn to if I need to murder Trey.” She runs her tongue over her lips and glances around us. “Was…was Tucker in class?” she finally asks me.
Of course she wants to talk to me about him!
I shake my head and feign indifference. “I don’t know, I didn’t really pay attention.”
Yeah, right.
“This is probably going to sound strange, but do you know where he is?” she continues in a slightly worried voice. “He hasn’t answered me since Friday afternoon, and the little bastard probably wouldn’t want me to go to his house.”
I stumble on her last words. So she can’t go to Tucker’s without permission either? What the hell was I thinking, going overboard and barging in like that?!
The questions keep coming into my head. I still don’t know what to think, what to deduce. So I confess to Yeleen, “I…I stopped by his house on Friday.”
