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“Sometimes,” Charlie answered.
“I do all the time. It still feels weird, not being together, but… I guess if you’re really happy, then I’m happy.”
“Thanks. I, uh, I need to go. I have some chores I need to do before my parents get home. I’ll see you later.” The sound of a chair scraping as she got up filled the air, and I glanced over my shoulder to see her walking away.
Away from Zak and his stupid pizza, away from whatever pathetic attempt this was at getting back together with her. He was obviously still in love with her, so even if he wasn’t her stalker, he should die regardless. At least then he’d leave Charlie alone. She didn’t need to think about the past and how much it hurt.
I was slow to get up—and silent as a mouse—and because of that, Zak didn’t hear me or sense me behind him. I stood behind him, knowing he was watching Charlie walk away, completely oblivious to my presence.
I could kill him. I could end his miserable life right here. Bring my hands to his head and his jaw and snap his neck. Granted, everyone around would see, the police would be called, and I’d probably be caught on numerous videos fleeing the scene of the crime.
So, no, that wouldn’t work. Couldn’t kill the motherfucker in the bright light of day. Give me some time. Time to plan, time to figure things out.
If I killed Zak and her stalker never contacted her again, my job would be done. If, on the other hand, I killed him and her stalker kept up his stalking, well… at least we’d know it wasn’t Zak after all.
I took a different exit, but I walked with a fast pace. Eventually I caught up to Charlie. With my hands stuck in the hoodie pocket and my head low, I growled out as I walked beside her, “What the fuck was that about?”
She didn’t look at me. She said not a single word to me, though she did pick up her pace—almost like she didn’t want to talk to me right now, and to that, I’d say, fuck no. She’d just gone to talk to her ex, and it actually sounded like an amiable conversation, a switch from what it had been at the party. I think an explanation was in order.
“Charlie, you just going to ignore me? Good luck with that. I’m not going to stop until you tell me what the hell that was.” And I didn’t stop. I kept badgering her, kept pestering the girl all the way until we reached the car.
It was only once we were inside, once the car was started and she pulled us out of the parking lot that she said, “I only went with him to talk to him.”
I glared. “Should I start calling you Captain Obvious, then? Because no shit.”
She did a double-take in my direction, those big brown eyes clueless. “Why are you so angry?”
“I’m angry because that asshole broke your heart and clearly wants to get back with you. That’s his endgame, Charlie. He wants to be with you again, and you going with him made it seem like you might be into it.”
Charlie scoffed, her hands gripping the wheel harder. “That’s not why I went with him. Like I could ever trust him again after what he did. He said he was going to push her away… yeah, right. Like I’m stupid enough to believe that.”
Well, I thought she might be, so color me shocked. “Then why did you go with him?”
“I wanted to talk to him to see if maybe I could get him to say something that would link him to everything,” she said. “He still seemed pretty upset at the fact that I have a boyfriend.” She let go of the wheel to make air quotes around the wordboyfriend.
I didn’t like that.
“It was pointless,” she muttered. “So don’t worry, I won’t be talking to him again. I don’t need that shit in my life. I’ve moved on.”
“Have you?”
Charlie glanced at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just asking you if you’ve actually moved on or if you’re just saying that to try to convince us both of it.” The thought of her still having feelings for that asshole, beyond the first love thing, ticked me off more than it should.
I shouldn’t care if Charlie still loved the guy. I shouldn’t give a shit if she wanted to get back with him.
But I did. I really, really did.
“I know how I feel, and I don’t think I need to convince you of anything.” She shot me a pointed look, jutting out her bottom lip in what was meant to be a pout. All it served to do, however, was get me to glance at that mouth. “I bet you’re hoping he’s my stalker, so you can… you know.”
“Kill him?” I offered. “You wanted my help, Charlie. Let’s not forget that. I’m a fucking serial killer, so there’s only one thing I can help someone like you with, and that’s killing. Don’t be afraid to say it now.”
“I know.”
“And, yes, maybe I am hoping your stalker is your ex—only because I want to be done with all this shit and move on. There’s shit I need to get back to.” Kill the ex and therefore the stalker would be the best-case scenario here. Then we could both wash our hands of this and…
And be done with each other.
