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She sighed. “Look, I have a problem you could help me with.”
“And why would I help you?”
The look she gave me right then was incredulous. “Because I didn’t turn you in? Because I didn’t take you to a hospital, like you asked, therefore saving you from being turned in there? Take your pick.”
I gave her my most unimpressed look. “You also hit me with your car. I’d say we’re even.”
“I also stitched you up and cleaned you up. I bought you a shirt—”
“With my money, if I had to guess.”
“Yeah, but—just shut up and listen.” She got up and started to pace the area around the bed, and I watched her, mostly because I couldn’t do anything else. “I’ve been getting messages. Online and from spoofed numbers on my phone. I thought they were just scams and bots, but then they all started to be the same. It’s all about me. When I’m walking on campus, I feel like I’m being watched, and tonight, I woke up because of a draft. My window was open, which I never leave open, and when I went to shut it, I found an envelope with a sketch of me sleeping inside it.”
I shrugged as best I could, though the action made my gut clench, and I had to bite back a wince. I didn’t want to seem weak in front of this girl, not when she still had the upper hand. “So you got a stalker. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I don’t want a stalker,” she said.
“So, what, you want me to kill him?”
Charlie looked at me then, almost as if she was stunned at my bluntness. But, come on, you didn’t kidnap a guy when you knew he was a killer and not want him to kill when you had a problem like that.
“I want your help finding out who he is,” she was sluggish in saying, “and then—”
“Then you want me to kill him.”
She let out a flustered sound and turned her back to me, throwing her hands up and saying, “I don’t know! Maybe. Is that wrong? No, you know what? I don’t care anymore. I just don’t care.” Spinning around to face me once more, she added, “Yes, I want you to kill him, after we find out who he is and we are one hundred and ten percent sure it’s him.”
I chuckled quietly. “You can’t be one hundred and ten percent sure. You’re either right or you’re wrong. It’s either zero or one hundred percent.”
Charlie groaned and rolled her eyes at me. “Whatever.”
I leaned my head back on the pillow behind me, studying her in a new light. The lamp on the bedside was on, but that was it, and its light was an ugly yellow. It reflected in the girl’s dark eyes, and for a few moments, we stared at each other.
Having a random girl hit me with her car, then kidnap me and try to fix me up, and then ask me to kill someone for her… the day kept getting weirder and weirder. It was almost funny.
“What do I get out of helping you?” I asked. “I don’t see why I should do you any favors. Again, I don’t know you from Jack. You hit me with your car, and a third grader could do better stitches than you.”
“You obviously haven’t met many third graders,” she muttered. Charlie held her head high—as high as she could, given how small she was—and strode over to me. She stood beside the bed and folded her arms over her chest. “And if you help me, I’ll help you. I have a sister who’s a nurse. I’m sure I could get her to sneak some medicine out of the hospital, so that doesn’t get infected. I can also help you lay low for a while. Anything you need, I could get for you.”
Hmm. It might be helpful to have someone who could walk into a store without instantly getting recognized, someone who could be my public face while the outcry of my so-called crimes faded away.
Still, this whole thing was just ridiculous, and I couldn’t help but ask, “And why shouldn’t I kill you after you get me those pills, hmm? Aren’t you worried the moment you let me free, I’ll kill you too? Or worse. There are other things I could do to you—”
“I’m not afraid to die,” she whispered, and I wasn’t sure if I believed her or not.
“I’m not agreeing to help, but if I did, where would I stay? This shitty place?”
Charlie shook her head. “No. Once you’re a little better, I’d take you home.” When I gave her a weird look, she hurried to add, “There’s a treehouse in the backyard. No one uses it anymore. You can stay there for as long as it takes, and as long as you want after that. My parents are both gone during the day, so you can come inside the house and shower and stuff.”
A fucking treehouse. She wanted me to live in atreehousewhile helping her? Jesus Christ.
But… as much as I wanted to tell her to fuck off, what choice did I have? I wouldn’t make it far on my own. If she knew who I was, my face was already plastered on TV. Everyone would be looking for me. It wasn’t safe to go home and grab my getaway bag—not that I would, until I finished my business with the Montgomery girl.
I had to heal up, and then I had to go after her and finish what my cousin had started, and unfortunately for me, I didn’t see another way out of this.
So, even though I really didn’t want to say it, I mumbled out, “Fine. I’ll help you.” My fingers stretched out, calling attention to their restraints. “Can you untie me now, please?” I was feeling a little better, even though the pain hadn’t disappeared, so it was easier to fake a smile—and that’s what I did. I flashed her my pearly whites.
My smiles affected everyone. They melted the women and got men to do favors for me. Everyone was a friend. I wasn’t an outcast back home. When they heard the news of me and what I’d done, they’d all talk to reporters saying what a shock it was, how I seemed normal, blah, blah, blah.
