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“What do you mean I shouldn’t have?” Her eyes narrow. “Tori, this whole thing is bullshit. I get Syn might be upset, and maybe a few others, but half the people in there don’t even know who JP is. And you’re not your brother—not that he did it,” she hurriedly adds. “But all that is bullshit behavior, and bullshit behavior needs calling out.”
I nod, and then sigh. “I wish it was that simple, but it isn’t. I can handle it, but I don’t want you to get caught up in this.”
“See, the thing is, you’re my friend. And I’m not leaving you to deal with all that by yourself.”
There’s a huge lump forming in my throat, and all I can do is nod.
“Oh, come on,” I cry in dismay.
My laptop has decided to give me the blue screen of death in the middle of using it. Again.
Although I planned on studying with Penny, I’d barely settled down in her room before her grandmother called but after trying to ignore the call four times, on the fifth ring, Penny surrendered, and I left to let her take the call.
In the end, because I hadn’t taken any of Penny’s textbooks with me, I’d gone to work in the library. As usual, it was almost empty, so I found a spot in the corner. Instead of starting any of my assignments, my mind wanders, distracted by what Dr. Wright said earlier.
At no point had I ever heard anything about there being more than one murder my brother was accused of, so why had he decided to call him a serial killer?
After staring into space for a while, I decided to google the case again, this time looking up other deaths on campus… which was when the laptop died.
The only other death that I managed to confirm was one in the eighties when a student committed suicide. Considering my brother hadn’t been born yet, I’m pretty sure it isn’t connected.
There was a bookstore off First Ave that I walked past a few times that I knew stocked secondhand textbooks. I was planning on dropping in when I went to the city with Penny this weekend, but now it was looking like I’d have to bite the bullet and do something about the laptop.
“Fuck.”
“Not even if you were the last person on earth.”
I don’t need to turn around to know the owner of that voice. Taking my time to close the lid of my laptop, finally, I turn to find Syn behind me.
His cold, hazel eyes are watching me like a bird of prey.
Before I resort to trading insults, I take a breath.
“Look, I understand why you’re upset, and if I were you, I would be too. But I’m not my brother. And I know he’s in jail, and he pleaded guilty, but he didn’t kill your brother. I’m here because I know I can find the truth.”
Syn doesn’t react other than to narrow his eyes a fraction.
Hoping he’s willing to listen, I get up and move closer. “I came here under another name because I was hoping that I could do what I needed to without upsetting you. Clearly, that didn’t work, so how about you pretend you have no idea who I am, and I will find the truth as quickly as I can so that you’ll never have to see me again. And JP’s real killer will be locked up wheretheybelong.”
Before I can blink, Syn has wrapped his hand around my throat and shoved me up against a bookcase. The force knocks the air out of me, but that doesn’t stop Syn from tightening his grip further. “If Ieverhear you utter my brother’s name again, I’ll remove that tongue of yours.”
I’m not a fighter, but after being in some scary situations when I was in the Jersey high school—where there were constantly fights breaking out—I’d taken it upon myself to learn some basic self-defense.
Of course, the first rule is to be aware of your surroundings and to avoid being in dangerous situations to begin with—something I’d done by clearly misjudging how Syn would react.
Struggling to breathe and not having any room to be able to act in any way that would put me at even a slight advantage given his strength, I do the first thing that comes to mind.
I stop fighting and go completely limp.
Not expecting any dead weight, Syn lets go, and I crash to the floor. While he’s still working out what happened, aiming for his crotch, I punch as hard as I can. There’s little strength in me, and I only just hit my target, but it’s enough for him to stumble backwards and give me precious seconds to scramble away.
I run to my desk, scoop up my laptop and bag, and then I run without looking back.
XIX
Gemini
“Clearly, there’s been a misunderstanding.”
