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Gareth kept his word. He didn’t sneak into my room that night to get a little secret hanky-panky. I tried to sleep, I did, and eventually sleep caught up with me, but it took a long time. Now that I was finally alone, in the dark of my bedroom, it was impossible not to remember what I’d done.
Neo Banks. A murderer and a psychopath, just like Gareth. I replayed the situation over and over in my head, the conversation we had, how I tried so desperately to convince him I hated Gareth, too, that I’d help him with his insane plan.
What kept rising to the surface above all else, though, was how mutilated his corpse was by the time I was done with him. Hell, I wasn’t even really done; Alistair had just convinced me to get off him, to hand the switchblade to him and take his hand. If it wasn’t for him, I couldn’t say whether I would’ve snapped out of it. Alistair’s calm, reassuring presence relaxed me, even when I was halfway out of my mind.
The sick thing was, I could still hear it. The sound Neo’s skin had made when I’d stabbed him. How he’d gurgled when I’d cut his throat. Wet, slick, like he was drowning in his own blood. He was gone so fast, but those particular sounds would stay with me for eternity.
I wouldn’t say I was being haunted by what I’d done. It was more like… I couldn’t deny the truth any longer. I wasn’t a normal girl. I never was. It was all a lie. Retreating into art had kept me stable and relatively sane while my mom tried to push me to sell myself to social media and to boys who she thought came from good families.
I was a killer. I killed Neo, and the worst part was… I liked it.
Chapter Six – Alistair
The fire had grown out of control. From what Rick had said, it was reported late that night by someone driving down the street, when they’d seen the dull orange glow through the trees. By the time firefighters arrived, it was too late to save the house, but the fire hadn’t traveled to the garage—and that meant Erin’s car was there for everyone to see.
The moment the firefighters had put out the flames and were able to step inside the wreckage of the house, they found the body, and they’d called the sheriff right away. Rick had done exactly what he was supposed to. Everything was going according to plan.
I’d done some research myself. Didn’t get much sleep. Didn’t really feel like sleeping, so I locked myself away in my office, scouring the web for information. The house belonged to Johnathan Banks, who, based on the family tree, had to be Neo’s grandfather. One of them. He’d gone into assisted living a few years back after the house had fallen into disrepair, and Neo’s parents just never did anything with it.
It was a perfect hiding place for bodies… but the thing was, there were no bodies to be found, not at that property and its many, many acres of woods.
Granted, the bodies could’ve been buried, but a quick scour of the property revealed no new disturbed dirt, and if Neo had planned on framing Gareth with the bodies, then I doubted he would’ve buried them.
No, he would’ve frozen them to keep them fresher for longer, to stop them rotting if they were already dead. Or—and this was a big if—if they were still alive somehow, he had a second location where he kept them chained up, unable to call for help and contact the outside world.
I didn’t think they were still alive, though. No, if I had to place a bet, I’d say they’d been dead this whole time.
As for Neo’s parents, from the outside, they looked to be normal people. Both his mother and father had full-time jobs outside of Eastcreek with commutes at least twenty minutes long. They’d been married for twenty-five years, and Neo was their only child. From what little I could find, it didn’t seem like they were involved in what their son had done—of course, sometimes people were good at hiding things, something I knew firsthand, so I couldn’t take them at their face-value.
While Rick was dealing with it all, putting on his sheriff persona and investigating, I made a few calls while I researched. I wanted someone on Neo’s parents at all times. I wanted to know what they ate for dinner, when they took a shit, what color shirts they wore to their jobs. I wanted to know if they went out anywhere for lunch, if they stopped for gas, and who they talked to all the while. If they were hiding their true selves beneath a mask, I’d find out.
When you had more wealth than you knew what to do with, when you had multiple income streams only adding to the total, there was nothing you couldn’t pay someone to do. I was no stranger to following people, but I didn’t want to be there when I had to be here, with Brianna and Gareth. If his parents tried to make a move, or if there was someone else out there, I had to be ready to protect what’s mine, so a PI would have to do.
I skipped breakfast and lunch, though Nicole offered to make me something, but I told her no. I was too busy. She then had to ask what I was doing, to which I had to tell her: “It’s a private matter.” I think telling her that only served to upset her, because after that, she left for the country club yet again.
Whatever. I didn’t care about her. The only people I cared about were Brianna and Gareth.
Speaking of the latter, it was three o’clock in the afternoon when I heard a knock on the door. I leaned back in my chair and ran a hand along my face, sighing as I said, “Come in.” I really should get up and stretch my legs, but I felt… antsy, anxious, waiting for any updates from Rick. The fire had completely burned down the house, so to identify the body, they’d have to match dental records. I didn’t know how long that would take.
A part of me hoped it was Brianna, but the realist in me told me it was Gareth, and when the latter pushed inside my office and took up one of the chairs facing my desk, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. No offense to my nephew, but I’d much rather see Brianna’s pretty face.
Gareth’s green eyes were narrowed in my direction behind his glasses, and I held his stare unflinchingly. He might be used to everyone bowing to his fierceness, but I never had, and I never would.
Neither one of us spoke for a minute. We simply gazed at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Up until now, I suspected he’d been with Brianna.
It was Gareth who broke the silence first, “So, Uncle, I think you and I need to talk.” Based on his tone, I could assume what this talk would be about. His fingers dug into the armrests of the chair, picking at the leather, something to keep his hands busy.
“About Brianna, yes,” I spoke with a nod. I leaned forward, folding my hands on top of my desk as I went on, “Where is she now?”
“She’s touching up her hair.”
“Good.” As much as I knew she’d like to skip school, she had to go tomorrow, show her face to the world, to the community, and act like nothing was wrong, like she didn’t kill anyone over the weekend.
Gareth’s jaw clenched and his teeth ground. “You know why I’m here.” When I said nothing, he snapped. He leaped to his feet and slammed his palms onto my desk, growling out, “She was supposed to be mine! Not yours, mine! That’s what you told me. Was it always a lie, or somewhere along the way, did you change your mind?”
Frankly, I was surprised Gareth had waited this long to approach me on the subject of Brianna, but then again, the past few days had been quite busy. “I see you’re very angry, Gareth.”
“Of course I’m fucking angry. I’m pissed! You know, I thought about killing you last night, and the night before. Ever since I learned you like to stick your dick in her, I’ve been fantasizing about cutting it off.” Gareth’s hands on my desk clenched into fists, and he glared at me with daggers in his eyes.
