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Chapter Eleven – Brianna
Kaity was waiting by my locker the next morning, and my stomach sank when I saw her. Her brown eyes were wide, the concern in them clear. Her bag was slung around her shoulder, and her hands gripped the strap so hard her knuckles were white. Her curly brown hair was loose today, a wild mess, though she wore a thick headband to keep it away from her face.
“Did you hear?” she asked the moment I reached her.
Swallowing, I nodded. I couldn’t look at her, so I turned and started to do the combination to my locker.
“They found Erin’s dad, dead, in their house,” the words tumbled out of her in a rush. “But that doesn’t make sense, because I went there every day after school to see if Erin was home, and I didn’t see anything. I didn’t smell anything, either—not that I’ve ever smelled a dead body before, but I’ve heard it’s one of the most disgusting things ever.”
I didn’t say anything as I stuffed my bag into my locker and started to pull out what I’d need for my first few classes.
Kaity kept blabbering on, “But they didn’t find Erin or her mom. If Mr. Watts is dead, then they’re probably dead, too. The house that burned Saturday night was Neo’s grandpa’s house, and they found Neo in there. And Erin’s car. That means it’s all connected, right? They should be taking cadaver dogs through the woods around that house to see—” She lowered her voice, “To see if they’re buried there.”
Clutching my books and notebooks, I was slow in shutting my locker and turning toward her. The look on her face told me she wanted me to say something, to say anything, but what could I say? In a way, this was entirely my fault. Gareth hadn’t killed her, but the only reason she’d been targeted was because Neo had seen her leave Montgomery Manor.
And of course I couldn’t tell her that I knew who it was. Neo and his cousin, Brett. There was so much I couldn’t tell her, and that was why it was easier to be silent.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Kaity’s voice trembled.
Because she wanted me to say something, because I couldn’t just stand there and let her carry on, I did something a normal person might do: I hugged her with my book-free arm and whispered, “I’m sorry, Kaity. I know you and Erin were friends since elementary. I just… I can’t imagine—”
Kaity’s body was rigid at first, but then she relaxed against me, letting go of the strap on her bag and hugging me back. She sniffed, and I’d bet anything she was tearing up. “This is Eastcreek. Nothing ever happens around here. I don’t get it. And I don’t get why Neo would have her car—”
She pulled away from me to wipe at her eyes, and I told her, “Sometimes you never know what’s going on inside someone else’s head.”
Once Kaity stopped wiping her fresh tears away, she looked at me, suddenly remembering something: “You were going out with Neo, weren’t you?”
My heart beat fast for a whole different reason. “We went to a basketball game together, but that’s it. It wasn’t like we were together.” She started to ask something, something I figured she would once she made the connection, so I added, “He didn’t act like he was hiding anything. I never would’ve guessed he could be involved in anything like this. He seemed…”
Well, he seemed like a preppy jock who the school worshiped during football season—which I’d thankfully missed. Someone who was excited to have the world in front of him, scholarships to a bunch of different colleges so he could have his pick of the lot. The last thing he’d seemed like was a psycho… but maybe at the time, I’d been so focused on Gareth’s brand of crazy that I’d been blinded to the rest of its flavors.
But I couldn’t say all of that. Instead, I just said, “Normal.”
Kaity’s expression fell, and she nodded along with me, muttering, “Yeah, he did. But I guess you’re right. You never know what’s going on inside someone else’s head.” She mustered up a smile, though it was half-hearted. “I should get to my locker. I’ll see you at lunch.”
I watched her go, unable to shake off the feeling that I was responsible for all of this. I was seconds from going to go to homeroom when my butt vibrated. Well, not my butt. More like my phone.
After pulling it out and seeing the wordrestrictedflashing across the screen, my teeth ground. I hurried to the nearest short hall where some classroom doors were, away from the lockers, and I answered it.
“Good morning, Brianna,” Brett’s amused voice spoke. “I trust you got my little present yesterday? I told you things were going to happen fast, and I meant it. You’ll find I never say anything I don’t mean.”
“You’re a psycho,” I whispered.
He laughed at that, as if I’d made the best joke, the funniest one he’d ever heard in his life. “Yeah, I guess I am, but aren’t we all psychopaths deep down? I’ve done a little research on you, you know, and I have to say, your art is something else.”
My art? How did he…
“Did you know your mother’s gallery has a website where they showcase some of the paintings they’ve sold? Yours is on there. I have to say, very lifelike. You’re quite the talented artist. I almost hate erasing you from the world.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, wanting to tell him to fuck off, that these calls were pointless. He wasn’t going to intimidate me. But no words came out, and all I ended up doing was standing there with my mouth hanging ajar, like I was frozen in time.
“The part that really draws me in is the skeleton half. You do bones very well, Brianna.” Brett paused, the silence between us heavier than anything. “You’ve inspired me. I want you to know that. I can’t wait for you to see what I leave for you next.” He ended the call after that, leaving me there to wonder just what the hell he’d meant by it.
I inspired him? That couldn’t be good. No, it couldn’t be good at all, considering he had at least two more bodies to play with: Erin’s and her mom’s.
Lowering my phone, I shut the screen off and slipped it back into my pocket. If that call was any indication on how this day would go, it’d be a great one.
Now might not be the time for sarcasm, but was there ever really a good time for sarcasm in general?
