Hate Me (37 page)
“I think that's the idea.”
“You win.”
“Win what?”
“We’ll use yours tonight. Stockton’s? Riley's used that place almost every night. I think he should share.” He places his palm on the wall above my shoulder and leans his chest against mine. “I can just picture it. Candy thong and a pair of boots. Nothing else.”
“Mr. Arrington,” my history teacher says, “you need to get to class.”
Aiden gives me a quick kiss on the lips and keeps ahold of my hand. He holds it until he has moved too far away from me to keep holding it, looking reluctant to let go.
He’s so adorable.
As soon as I sit down in class, my phone buzzes. I cross my legs and hide it under the desk.
Hottie God:
Remember the pool playing we did this weekend?
Me:
Yes. You cheated.
Hottie God:
I won fair and square.
Me:
Yes, you did, but the rules were that the loser had to do something, um, nice for the winner.
Hottie God:
The rules were made before someone was dancing half naked on the pool table.
Me:
The halftime entertainment was your idea.
Hottie God:
And a fucking brilliant one at that.
Me:
Riley just told me Logan and Maggie have dibs on Stockton's tonight, but we can have it tomorrow.
Hottie God:
Logan got six condom lollipops this morning.
Me:
I thought they were waiting until after Winter Formal.
Hottie God:
Maggie told him she wants to use all the lollipops tonight.
Me:
Wow. That's a lot for one night.
Hottie God:
We’ll need more.
The second I read his text warmth spreads through my body. Thoughts of what he did to me on the pool table are quickly overshadowed by thoughts of what else he wants to do to me.
Riley drops a note over my shoulder and into my lap.
I glance at the teacher before opening it.
#1. I don't know who my naughty Santa is, but I'm in love with her already. I got pink furry handcuffs. Do you think the house elves will know and install an appropriate headboard?
#2. Did you and Aiden do it this weekend?
a.) he seemed very chipper today.
b.) he wants Stockton’s for the two of you.
c.) is playing pool your secret code word for sex?
#1.
I think house elves know everything.
#2.
We didn't, but we had fun. We played pool. Strip pool. He won.
What'd he get?
Not telling.
Tell me!
Let's just say he has a talented tongue.
Ha! I knew it was something!
Hottie God:
You haven't replied.
Me:
I've never done it . . . like that many times.
Hottie God:
Me either, but I know once we do, we won't want to stop. I've wanted you since the first day I saw you. I seriously had never seen someone so beautifully perfect until that moment.
Me:
I have to admit, I'm nervous.
Hottie God:
Why?
Me:
What if it sucks?
Hottie God:
No fucking way. What you should be prepared for is the fact that you're never going to want to be with anyone else ever again.
Me:
That scares me too.
Hottie God:
It does me too.
Me:
You make me feel like no one else ever has.
Hottie God:
And you're waiting for something bad to happen?
Me:
I'm afraid it's too perfect.
Hottie God:
Has anything about us been easy?
Me:
Not really.
Hottie God:
In six and a half minutes, I'm going to kiss the hell out of you. Just saying.
Me:
Aiden?
Hottie God:
What, baby?
Me:
I think it's going to be amazing with you, just like everything else is.
Hottie God:
Me too <3
I send a quick text to Camden.
Me: Any chance the house elves can install something your brother could attach furry handcuffs to?
Cam:
House elves?
Me:
We decided that house elves were responsible for forecasting our every whim.
Cam:
LOL. They are :) I hear my brother is giving the place a proper workout. What about you?
Me:
Winter Formal is coming up :)
Cam:
Will Aiden be “coming up" there?
Me:
I think so.
Cam:
Bout time. How's P? Something’s up with her.
Me:
She met a guy.
Cam:
Where?
Me:
Beach over break.
Cam:
Hmm. What about Whitney?
Me:
She's dating Shark.
Cam:
That is a match I bet even Shark wouldn't have bet on.
Me:
They seem really happy. She seems happy.
Cam:
And Dawson?
Me:
One word: Brooke. Hardly ever get to see him.
I’m walking down the hall toward English when Aiden struts up to me, puts his hands around my neck, and kisses me, exactly as promised.
Straight out of a movie.
Drama
I get a text from Cooper.
Cooper:
You need to get a really bad cramp now. Go to the nurse. Make her call me out of class.
I do as he says, make my way in fake pain to the nurse’s office, and talk her into calling Mr. Steele.
I know by the look on his face when he walks into the nurse’s office that something is wrong.
Is Vincent on his way here? Is he already here?
No. If that were the case, he wouldn’t care about pretending to be a teacher anymore.
Which means he has news.
Bad news.
“Is my family okay?” I ask him as I pretend limp down to the Field House.
“Yes,” is all he says.
Once we’re safely in the training room, he says, “The guy who talked to Vincent’s assistant is a cop friend of mine. He just sent me something.”
“Did he talk to her again? Get something good on Vincent?”
“No, he’s a detective. A
homicide
detective.”
“Is Vincent dead?!”
“No.”
“Is his assistant dead?”
“No, um . . .”
“Just say it, Cooper.”
“One of the dancers from the club is dead. She was reported missing by her roommates when she didn't come home from work Thursday night. They found her body on the beach in Malibu.” Cooper glances back at his phone. “In front of a restaurant called Moon Beams.”
My heart stops beating.
“That’s the restaurant Vincent and I had dinner at. We sat on the deck overlooking the water. Which girl was it?”
“She’s new. Only been working there for about two weeks. She was off the night we were there.”
“So, she was murdered?”
“Yes. Her place of employment caught his attention, so he texted me earlier. Then he sent me this.” He holds up his phone, showing me a photo of a thin, tan waist with a glow-in-the-dark chaos tattoo just below the hip.
“I sent a bunch of custom glow-in-the-dark chaos tattoos to Marla. She liked mine because she thinks if they ever name the club it should be called Utter Chaos. Tell me this is just a coincidence.”
“You know what Garrett says.”
“He doesn’t believe in them.”
“Is it my fault she’s dead?” Cooper is being very careful with his words, and I realize there’s something he hasn’t said. “How did she die?”
“It’s not your fault, Keatyn.”
“How did she die, Cooper?”
He sighs then says, “Cause of death was asphyxiation.”
“She was strangled?”
“Yes.”
I swallow hard. “Was she raped?”
“No.”
“Cooper, what are you not telling me?!”
“After her death, she was stabbed numerous times. This type of stabbing is unusual to see on a woman.”
“Why?”
“Typically when a body is mutilated after death it is for one of two reasons. Usually, it’s out of rage. Like what you would see when a jealous ex commits the crime. In this case, the victim doesn’t have a jealous ex. Her boyfriend is devastated and has a solid alibi.”
“What’s the other reason someone would do it?”
“To send a message to the living. Like when a drug dealer wants to remind people not to cheat him, for example. The choice of weapon was also unusual. It’s a weapon usually used by women, but the depth of the stab wounds suggest a male killer. And the picture I showed you, with the tattoo, was of the only part of the victim that was not stabbed.”
“What was she stabbed with?”
“Scissors.”
My vision blurs.
My face feels hot.
A wave of nausea hits me.
My legs feel weak, causing me to sway.
Cooper grabs my arm and keeps me from falling, setting me down in a chair.
I put my hand across my forehead.
“You look like you’re going to faint. Look at me.”
I look up at him.
“Tell me,” he says.
“Vincent is sending me a message.”
“How so?”
“After he chased me in New York City, a picture of me was delivered to my mom’s hotel room. The picture had been stabbed with scissors. Have you told Garrett about any of this?”
“No, I just found out.”
“Call him. I have to go.”
“Where are you going?”
“I just have to get out of here,” I say. The training room suddenly feels very claustrophobic. “Get some fresh air.”
“Don't leave campus,” he says then tries to give me a hug.
“Don’t, okay? I’m fine. It's fine. Everything will be fine.”
Except it’s not.
It’s not fine.
At all.
I run out of the Field House, the cold air hitting my lungs and forcing me to suck in a big breath.
I wander aimlessly across campus, feeling numb.
Thinking about that poor girl.
About her poor family.
Her roommates.
Her friends.
And, mostly, that she’s dead because of me.
I find myself standing in the chapel.
No one is here, so I walk straight to the front, drop to my knees, and pray.
Pray for forgiveness.
Pray that it was a mistake.