Page 51 of Die For You


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I wasn’t all that surprised, either. Relieved, actually. Yvette was a boss-ass woman. She had an established career, a great family, and was a solid friend. I’d met her when we were in college, and she slid into the group like the last wheel we needed to take off. Noah, Eric, Yvette, and I became a little family unit, spending days studying together, eating, partying, and just hanging out. I wanted her to find someone who only enhanced those shining aspects about her, not dimmed them.

Gabe’s leg fell against mine, his knee on mine.

I wanted her to find someone like Gabriel. A man who wasn’t only a knight in shining armor but who was the king, too, and the jester and the court and the castle. He encompassed it all. Safety and warmth and sex and laughter and love.

It was all there. God damn. I got lucky with this one.

Steven bumped his shoulder into me as he reached for some grapes. He leaned in and apologized. Maybe he and Yvette could spark something? I vaguely remembered him mentioning he was bi, and they always had some good conversations together, usually breaking off into a corner after the book club to talk about philosophy.

“But whatever, enough about me. Let’s get to the book. Jake, Noah, you guys take it away.” Yvette dipped her head and flourished her arms before grabbing the book at her side, a rainbow assortment of sticky notes and tabs sticking out from the pages. She looked like someone vacationing in Greece; flowey white dress, beige beaded necklace, subtle but shiny pearl earrings underneath her loose waves.

Made me crave a vacation with the crew real bad. I could see us all getting drunk on the beach, dancing our way to the pool, laughing our way through the cobblestone streets for dinner.

Maybe when all this was over I could throw that idea out there.

“Alright,” Noah said with a clap of his hands. They were hosting tonight’s meeting, so they had to come up with whatever drinking game we would play. “Tonight, it’s all aboutfriendship.The book focuses a lot on the friend group, and I love ours, so why not celebrate that? Every time someone brings up an old memory or inside joke tonight, wealldrink. Sound good?”

The room broke into nods and approvals. Gabe shifted next to me, his leg pressing against mine. I realized then that we’d never really made an official announcement about our new relationship status. I told Eric about it when I last saw him, but the rest of the group didn’t know yet.

Or rather, they knew but just didn’t say anything. Not like Gabe and I were trying very hard to hide it. I practically sat on his lap, and his hand was resting against mine, fingers lazily playing with each other. I noticed Tia throw a few curious glances our way, her grin tipping over into a full-blown smile. Maybe once we were done with tonight’s book club, I’d bring it up. Or maybe I just didn’t have to? That’s what was so magical about this group of friends—no, family—that we had formed over the years. There was a general sense of unwavering support and love between us, for whatever it was we ended up doing. We didn’t have to feel judged or worried, nor did we ever have to make big announcements about life changes. Our bonds were stone solid, the foundation of our friendships just as strong.

“Let’s jump intoTwisting Razors,” Noah said, opening his book with a flair. I took the cue and opened mine. Admittedly, the last couple of chapters had gone unread.

Who would have thought reading about a serial killer while currently being targeted by one wouldn’t exactly be an enjoyable experience?

Jake cleared his throat and kicked things off. “Did anyone else notice how Kenneth, our main character, continues to see that weird fox in the neighborhood? I’m wondering, and bear with me here, guys, but is that a sign he’s hallucinating all of this?” Jake asked. He had one leg crossed over the other, a bright yellow highlighter against the corner of his mouth.

I had to admit the thought had crossed my mind. But the fox also might have another meaning. My mind worked well with metaphors and symbolism. “What if it keeps showing up because foxes are sly and cunning? What if it’s trying to tell us that Kenneth is the killer?”

The room got quiet as they all started to process the bomb I just dropped.

“I thought the same thing,” Tia echoed. “I told y’all that’s what was happening from the start.”

“She did,” Jess said, supporting her girl.

Steven broke the silence first. “You know, that’s actually kind of a genius idea.” He smiled and squeezed my leg.

“I mean, if the author of the group didn’t pick up on the twist, then I think there’d be a problem,” I said with a chuckle.

“That would explain why he seems to always be around when there’s been a murder,” Colton said, his bright blue eyes almost clashing with the ruby red t-shirt he had on, the v-neck dipping down a freckle-spotted chest. He looked at the book on his lap as if he were seeing it for the first time. “I thought it was because Kenneth was a target, but what if you’re right—what if he’s the one behind it all?”

Steven shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck. He wore a long-sleeved orange T-shirt with thick white stripes outlined in thin black, his leg bouncing so that it shook the couch we were crammed into. “No, I think that might be too obvious, actually.”

Gabriel leaned over me and looked at Steven with surprise. “How’s that obvious?”

“It justfeelsobvious. I always like to dig a little deeper. I don’t think it’s Kenneth. I think it’s his best friend, Nicki. I think she has some kind of obsession with him, and she’s taking out all the people he loves, one by one. Until he’s only left with her.”

I cocked my head. The puzzle I had arranged in my head broke apart, the pieces shuffling in new directions, fitting in ways I hadn’t noticed before. Steven’s theory sounded plausible, and he went on to prove his case by listing out scenes that supported it.

By the end, he seemed to have us all convinced. “Damn,” Eric said. “I think you got it.”

The meeting started to wind down. Only two inside jokes had been said, but that didn’t stop me from drinking two glasses of wine. I was midway through my third when I had to ask a question. It was about something that had been messing with me for a while now, but it really took center stage after everything that had happened with the Midnight Chemist.

“Alright,” I said, “Now that we have that figured out, I just want to ask one question: why the hell do all these books keep reflecting our lives? The fuck?”

The group broke into laughter at my observation.

“Seriously,” I continued, “I had to put the book down for the last few weeks.”

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