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Whoever did this is smart, calculated. He’s not stupid enough to leave behind any evidence. It won’t be this easy to find out who did this.
“What the fuck did he say when he called you?” Reign asks, narrowing his eyes. “You said he called you when we were at the dock. What the fuck did you talk to him about?”
I roll my tongue along my teeth. “Nothing, really.” I think back on our conversation, remembering every word, every terrifying second of our conversation.
How he said he was going to murder my friends. “He said he was going to kill everyone,” I whisper, glancing toward them. “He said he was going to put a knife into each of us.”
Kyler narrows his eyes, his jaw turning to stone.
“What the fuck, Lake? And you didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell anyone?” Creed snaps.
Tears flood my eyes, and I dig the heels of my hands into them. “I didn’t think…. I didn’t…think.” I pull at my hair, my anger roaring through me. “Fuck!” I roar. My hand goes out, and I shove the shelf in front of me, knocking over the books. They scatter, the sound of the clatter so loud we all jolt. “This is all my fucking fault!” I roar, kicking at the books, wishing it would give me any kind of relief, but all it does is make me want to do it more.
Reign stalks up to me, his arms wrapping around me, pinning my hands at my sides. “Calm the fuck down, Lakyn. You aren’t helping shit right now,” he snaps.
A sob rips from my chest, and I cock my head back, tears flooding my cheeks as I stare him in the eyes. “If I would’ve said something, Eloise wouldn’t have been attacked. The library wouldn’t be filled with her blood!” I shout.
Footsteps pound down the hall, and a flood of officers race in, their eyes wide, their hands on their weapons at their sides.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?” a tall officer with dark hair shouts, his eyes narrowed in shock. “How did you get in here?”
The officer Reign spoke to steps in, his eyes narrowed as he watches us in silence.
“You need to get out of here. This is a crime scene!” a female officer snaps, her finger pointing toward the door. “Out of here. Now!”
“My friend almost died!” Posie shouts.
The officer’s eyes soften slightly, but her finger doesn’t drop from facing the door. “I’m sorry about what happened, but none of you can be in here. We could arrest you all for tampering with evidence.”
“We’re not fucking tampering,” Archer snaps.
“Have you found anything? Do you have any clues?” Vienna whispers to the officers.
The male officer straightens, his fingers going to the belt loops on his pants. “Until we have something concrete, we aren’t at liberty to say. Right now, you’ll all have to leave, but we assure you it’s safe, and we believe this is a one-off crime. The public is safe.”
I shake my head, knowing that isn’t the case at all.
We all walk around the stain of Eloise’s blood, our eyes glued to the carpet that will undoubtably need to be replaced. Eloise deserves more than a slashing in the school library.
Stepping outside, it feels like there are even more people here than before. All the local news stations are parked out front, from Fox 7 to Local Eye News. One of the reporters I’ve seen before on the morning news steps forward, a blue suit on her body. She straightens her knee-length skirt, the microphone in her hand.
“Hi! What a tragedy that happened here this morning. Can you please tell us your relationship toEloise Sharpe?” she says, sticking the microphone directly in my face.
My eyes widen, and I bring my hand up, my fingers wrapping around the top of the microphone. I squeeze it, shoving it away. “Get the hell away from me,” I growl.
Her eyes widen, but she keeps the fake smile pasted on her face.
“I’m sorry. Was she a friend if yours?” she asks sweetly, though I can taste the hunger coming from her. She isn’t sympathetic, she just wants the story.
Archer steps in front of me, blocking me completely from view. “I suggest you get out of our fucking faces before I break the damn camera,” he growls.
She lets out a slight laugh, taking a step back. “I don’t mean to offend. Do you have any idea if she had any enemies? Was she in a relationship or anything? Any reason why this would have happened to her?”
I glance down at the badge strapped around her neck that says Fox 7 News. The name Bridget Bofield is in big black letters on the front. I narrow my eyes, taking a step forward. Instantly, multiple hands wrap around my arms and waist, and I know each of the guys are holding me back from making a big mistake.
It’s too fucking late.
“Bridget fucking Bofield,” I snap. Her eyes flit to mine, widening in shock at my sharp tone. Her dark red nails tighten around her microphone, while her other hand goes up, and she brushes her pinned-up hair behind her ear.
