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“Jessica, I’m just going to find Alex. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
She gazes up at me in a daze. “Are you Allie?”
I force a smile. “I am.”
She takes my hand, and I have to do everything I can not to flinch or let the tears threatening, spill.
“I’m so glad my boy has a girlfriend like you.” She inhales, squeezing my hand. “Not like those other girls. They were noisy,” she whispers, before closing her eyes once again.
A shiver runs up my spine and I feel the blood drain from my face.
This can’t be the Alex I’ve come to know and love like a brother. It can’t be. For once in my life, I want to be wrong about someone.
He’s been there for me through a lot. He was there when me and Willow were going through a rough patch. We might have made up after her attack, but that rift was still there. He helped me through that.
When CJ drove me mad, he was there.
When we went to court, he stood by my side and supported me.
He kept me company at work and made me laugh.
He was my best friend.
I move back towards the kitchen, starting there. There has to be something that can prove I’m right or wrong. Something—anything.
I suddenly find it hard to breathe, my chest tightening. The backdoor comes into view and I rush over, flinging it open and taking in a breath of fresh air. I lift my face to the sky, letting the rain pelt down on my face whilst panting heavily.
What am I going to do?
WhatamI going to do?
I take my phone out of my pocket, clicking CJ’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. “CJ, please call me, it’s important. It’s about the killer. I know who it is. Well, I think I do. No, I know I do.” I stop when I see a building at the bottom of the garden. “Call me. Call the police—something,” I tell him, trailing off and ending the call.
Something about that building doesn’t feel right. It’s like when you watch a horror movie and the house is creepy as hell, yet the morons still walk inside to check it out.
It looks like I’m going to be one of those morons, because before I know it, my feet are taking me down the path. I glance around to check no one else is here, keeping my phone tightly clutched in my hand.
As it comes closer, dread works its way through me.
I press my ear against the door, but I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary. But that feeling won’t go.
I flick through my phone, calling Jordan. She normally has Wednesdays free. Something tells me I’m not going to like what’s behind that door.
When I hear it ringing, I put the phone down my hoodie and into my bra, hiding it. The second I put my hand on the door handle, my heart starts racing and my palms turn sweaty.
The click of it opening causes me to flinch and pause, holding my breath.
Oh, god. What am I doing?
I push it open, my shoulders sagging when it only leads into an empty room. It’s short-lived when I see another door. I move towards it, nerves raking my body. I shake my hands out, taking long deep breaths.
I twist the handle, pulling the door towards me.
I had prepared for the worst—the worst of the worst. But what I’m seeing in front of me is so far from anything I ever imagined.
“Oh, my God,” I breathe out, my shaking hand going to my mouth.
Hearing my voice, the girl’s head lifts, her eyes widening. She starts screaming behind her taped mouth, her eyes widening, imploring something I can’t read. I take a step forward, needing to help her. She shakes her head, her body furiously trying to get free from her chains.
