“Oh.”
“It lasted for ages. We yelled at each other. Insulted each other.” He let out a short sigh. “We didn’t actually mean any of the shit we said, but we were just so fucking mad. You know what I mean?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
“She ended up telling me she was sick of all the bullshit in Royal Falls, and she was going to leave. I said—” Hunter stopped abruptly. His jaw was trembling.
“What did you say?” I asked.
He looked away. “I grabbed my coat and told her I was going out. Then I said, ‘I hope you’re serious about leaving, and I hope you’re gone by the time I come home so I don’t have to deal with your shit anymore’. She said she would be gone by then. So then I said, ‘Good. I hope you never come back’.”
My limbs suddenly felt heavy. “Was that the same night—”
Hunter cut me off. “Yup. The same night she died,” he said. So I got what I asked for, even though I didn’t mean it. She was gone, and she never came back.”
“Oh, god,” I whispered, mind spinning from the sheer misery of his story. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine what you must’ve felt when you saw her.”
“I was the first one,” he said. “Everyone else in my family was still out when I got back, and the staff had all gone home. I went looking for Lindsay so I could apologize for all the shitty things I said, and I tried the rooftop garden first. She wasn’t there. Then I looked over the edge and saw her lying on the ground.”
“Was she already…” I abruptly trailed off, realizing how inappropriate my question would sound.
“Dead?” Hunter said. “Yeah. She was cold and stiff. Dead for at least three hours before I got back, apparently.”
A lump appeared in my throat as tears stung my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hunter.”
“I never got to say that to her. That I was sorry,” he muttered. He hung his head in his hands again, shoulders drooping. “The first thing I thought when I saw her was that it was all my fault.”
“You thought she did it because of you? Because of what you said to her?”
He nodded and wiped a hand over his glistening eyes. “Yes.”
“You couldn’t have known,” I said softly, grabbing his left arm. “It’s not your fault.”
“I still feel like it is. Even now that I know she didn’t kill herself, I still feel like it happened because of me. Like I could’ve stopped it somehow. If I’d just stayed home that night instead of storming out, or if I came home earlier and found her before the fucking cunt pushed her… she’d still be here right now. That’s all on me.”
My brows furrowed. “You still think someone pushed her?”
He nodded. “I know it wasn’t you now, but it was still someone.”
“Hunter—”
He cut me off. “I know what you’re thinking. That I’m one of those people stuck in the denial stage. But I’m not.”
“Why would they rule it a suicide if there was any evidence that it wasn’t?”
“Because that’s what everyone wanted to believe. Wild teenage girl, gone off the rails. Filled with regret and remorse over the things she’d done.” He shook his head slightly. “She left a note, too. Supposedly.”
“I didn’t know that.”
He nodded. “It was under her phone on one of the seats in the rooftop garden. Folded piece of paper with ‘I’m sorry’ written on it. It was her handwriting, too.” He let out a short sigh. “I think someone else just copied it. It wouldn’t have been hard. Her handwriting was very basic.”
“Oh.”
“But yeah… as soon as that note was found, it cemented one thing in everyone’s mind. Suicide. Apparently she went up to the roof, stood on the edge, and let herself fall backwards.”
“But you don’t think so.”
He rubbed his jaw. “Like I said before, I did at first. I thought I pushed her over the edge with all the shit I said to her. But then I started thinking about it, and a lot of stuff didn’t add up to me.”
“Like what?”
Hunter gestured to my neck. “Like that, for one. How the fuck did it end up in a pawn shop in Silvercreek?”
“Maybe Lindsay lost it somewhere. Someone found it, saw it was worth something, and pawned it for cash.”
“No. I’m ninety-nine percent sure she was wearing it when we were arguing that night. So she would’ve been wearing it when she died, which means someone snatched it off her afterwards,” he said, eyes darkening. “And it’s not just that. The more I thought about it after she was gone, the more I realized she wouldn’t hurt herself. Not like that. It just… it wasn’t her.”
“You can never really know what someone is thinking and feeling deep inside,” I said gently.
“I know, and I would agree in most cases. People can hide stuff really well. But I know Lindsay wasn’t suicidal. I just know it. Even with all the shit going on in her life, she wouldn’t have done that.” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “There’s more, too. I looked through her phone when I was trying to figure out who she saw and spoke to that night.”
My brows rose. “Did you find anything suspicious?”
“Apart from the call from you, no. There weren’t any recent nasty messages from any of her enemies. No threats, either. But the messages she’d sent out to other people were suspicious in their own completely non-suspicious way.”
“Uh… I’m not following.”
Hunter sat up straight and grabbed Lindsay’s phone again. “Look at all of the messages she sent out before she died,” he said, handing it to me. “She messaged a few people asking if they wanted to hang out that night. She also opened a group chat with some of her schoolfriends and sent them a bunch of links from a dress website, asking which one would be the best for her to wear to the Fall Fling. Then she messaged another friend asking for party decoration ideas, because she wanted to host an afterparty for the Fling.”
“What if—”
He held up a hand to cut me off. “I know what you’re thinking—maybe no one replied to her or wanted to hang out, and it made her sad enough to tip her over the edge. But look at the time stamps.” He scrolled through her text folder and pointed to each individual time. “Most of the messages were sent between 8:05-8:22 p.m.”
“Okay,” I said, drawing out the two syllables. I was confused as hell.
“According to the coroner’s report, she probably died somewhere between 8:30-9:00 that night.”
“Oh.” I saw his point now. “That is weird.”
“Yeah. She barely even gave them time to reply. So we can’t realistically say that the lack of response from her friends could’ve upset her enough to make her want to jump off the roof.”
“That’s true.”
“Also, for argument’s sake, let’s say she was horribly depressed, and she actually planned the whole thing for ages. Why would she message a bunch of people asking to hang out, or ask for opinions on dresses for her to wear to a party, if she was planning on hurling herself off a building just a few minutes later?”
“That’s a good point.” I nodded slowly. “She seemed really keen to meet up with me that night, too. Her message sounded really excited.”
“Exactly. But she didn’t even wait for you to respond to see if you’d be up for it.”
“Except… the call.” My brows furrowed. “What time did I call her?”
“8:27.”
“Do you think it was her that picked up?” I asked in a hollow voice as a sick feeling suddenly descended upon me. “When I heard the breathing and wind, but no voice.”
Hunter leaned forward, rubbing his jaw. “I always thought it was her, but now that I know you didn’t actually speak to her… I don’t know.”
“You said the estimated time of death was between 8:30 and 9:00. There’s a bit of leeway in those estimates, right?”
“I think so.”
“So at 8:27 she could’ve already been dead.”
“Yeah.” He set
his lips in a grim line. “So maybe whoever pushed her accidentally answered your call. I don’t know how that would’ve happened, though.”
“They might’ve wanted to stop her phone from ringing, because they could’ve been afraid that someone—like you or Adam—might come home early and hear them up there on the roof. But they didn’t know how to end the call properly because it wasn’t their own phone, so they accidentally answered it instead.”
“Yeah. That’s a possibility.”
We fell silent for a beat. Sorrow and uncertainty lingered in the air, and my heart threatened to thunder out of my chest as I waited for what Hunter might say or do next.
He finally turned to me again. “I tried to tell my dad that I thought she wasn’t suicidal. That someone pushed her. He said I was fucking crazy.”
“I’m sorry.”
He leaned closer, gaze anchored to mine. “I know my sister didn’t hurt herself, Laney. I just know it,” he said, eyes glistening with emotion again. “Do you believe me? Or do you think I’m crazy too?”
Warmth surged unbidden into my chest at the sight of his vulnerability. I swallowed thickly. “I believe you,” I murmured.
I really did. After all the things he’d said, I was convinced. Lindsay’s so-called suicide didn’t make sense.
Hunter breathed a heavy sigh of relief, shoulders slumping as some of the tension left his body. Then he reached over and put a hand on my knee. “I really am sorry for everything I did to you,” he said gruffly. “When I met you and saw you wearing her necklace, I honestly—”
I lifted a palm to cut him off. “It’s okay,” I said. I shook my head slightly. “I mean, it’s not okay, but I understand, because it didn’t exactly make me look innocent. If I was searching for a person who killed one of my loved ones, and I saw someone show up in town wearing their stuff, I’d be suspicious too. And it didn’t help when I admitted that I killed someone.”
“That’s true.” Hunter exhaled deeply. “But I guess the search is over now. I won’t exactly be able to continue it from prison, will I?”
“Prison?”
He stared down at his hands. “I kidnapped and tortured you, Laney. Even I can’t buy my way out of this.”
I hesitated for a moment, breath hitching in my throat. “Hunter… I’m not going to turn you in,” I finally said.
His forehead creased. “You should. I deserve it.”
I watched him as he spoke. I could tell he wasn’t just manipulating me into feeling bad for him so that he could stay out of trouble. There was raw pain and remorse in his eyes, along with acceptance.
“No,” I said. “You did bad things to me. Really bad things. But I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“I clearly am.”
“You’re not. You were desperate to find Lindsay’s killer, and you honestly thought I was guilty. You wanted answers.”
“That doesn’t give me the right to torture you,” he muttered.
“No, it doesn’t, but I believe you when you say you’re sorry,” I said. I threw my hands up. “I don’t know… maybe I’m just an idiot. But I genuinely believe you.”
He looked at me, brows lifted. “You’re really not going to turn me in?”
“Are you going to turn me in?” I shot back.
“For what?”
“Hunter, I confessed to a murder half an hour ago,” I said, lifting a brow.
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah. That.”
He slowly shook his head. “I’m not going to say a word to anyone about it,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t even know why you feel so guilty about it. Sure, he was your dad, but he fucking sold you to a rapist when you were only a kid. If I were you, I’d see him as a sperm donor and nothing else. Not a real father.”
“I get what you mean,” I replied. “But what I did with Mom… it was still wrong.”
He gripped my chin, raising my eyes to his again. “Laney, what the two of you did was self-defense. That’s the way I see it, and you aren’t going to change my mind. And I’m never, ever going to tell anyone else. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
I felt something pass between us then. An understanding. A kinship. We were both good people who did terrible things out of desperation, and we were both riddled with remorse over it.
Real bad people wouldn’t feel guilty at all.
Without warning, Hunter moved even closer and wrapped his arms around me, smoothing one hand up and down my back. “I think you deserve better than anything your life has given you so far,” he said, voice husky with emotion. “I just wish I was good enough to give it to you.”
Electricity seemed to crackle through my body as I let him tighten his grip on me. In that moment, I felt completely safe with him. Like I belonged in his arms.
“You are good enough,” I whispered.
He slowly pulled back, shaking his head. “I’m not. But I want you to know—I’m going to try to make things right. For all the things I did to you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said.
“Yeah, I do. And I want to.”
I swallowed hard, knitting my fingers in my lap. “Well… I want to help you too.”
“With what?”
“Your search,” I said. “I want to help you find out what really happened to your sister.”
“Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t have to go through it alone. You should have help from people who believe you.”
“I honestly think you’re the only person who would ever believe me,” he muttered.
“Then it’s settled. You’re stuck with me,” I said, giving him a tiny wry smile.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “So even after everything I did to you… even when you could totally blow up my life and wreck it forever… you’re going to help me.”
“Yes.”
He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. “I really don’t deserve this, Laney.”
“How many times are you going to say that?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Until you believe it, I guess.”
I held out a hand. “Hunter, listen. I’m going to help you, okay? Even if you don’t think you deserve that help. It’s going to happen.”
“Okay.” He grasped my hand in his and squeezed it tightly. “Thank you.”
We fell silent for another long moment. Then I pulled away and brought my fingers up to Lindsay’s necklace. “I think you should have this back now,” I said.
I moved my hair out of the way and carefully unclasped it. Then I held it out to Hunter.
His eyes tightened as he stared down at the pendant. Then he raised his gaze to mine. “Thanks.”
“It’s okay. It was never really mine.”
“What will you tell your mom?” he asked. “She was probably really excited to find it in that pawn shop for you, right?”
“Yeah, she was. Because it was an L pendant, she thought it was some sort of sign from the universe that she should get it for me,” I said. I hesitated for a second, twisting my lips. “I’ll just have to tell her I lost it. She’ll be upset, but she’ll get past it eventually.”
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault.” I gave him a tight smile. “Anyway… what happens now?”
Hunter’s forehead creased. “Right now, I think you should take a shower, get dressed and go home. You could use a decent rest. Then we can talk again tomorrow.”
“I don’t have any clothes here. You sliced them up.”
“I’ll get some from my mom’s closet while you’re in the bathroom. You’re about the same size.” He stood and looked down at me. “And just so you know—if you go home, think about everything, and change your mind… I’ll understand.”
“I won’t.”
He gave me a sad smile. “Like I said… just think about it. I honestly don’t think I deserve a shred of mercy from you.” He turned and dipped his head toward the left. “Anyway,
my bathroom’s that way. There’s a cupboard in there with clean towels and robes.”
Five minutes later, I was standing in the shower, eyes closed as hot water streamed over me. The cuts on my legs stung a bit, but I barely registered it. I was too lost in my thoughts; too lost in the fog of my desire to help Hunter.
A small, distant part of my mind already knew it wasn’t just a desire to help him. It was a desire for him. The same desire I’d always experienced when I saw him, even when I tried my best to squash it.
I knew if I explained the entire situation to anyone else, they would tell me I was crazy. They would tell me to report him to the police, toss him in prison, and make them throw away the key. But I couldn’t. The thought of hurting him now made me feel physically sick.
Some people in this world didn’t deserve a second chance… but he wasn’t one of them.
When I felt clean and refreshed, I put on a fluffy bathrobe and peeked out of the bathroom. Hunter had left a neatly folded pile of clothing right outside the door, along with my coat, shoes and phone.
I got dressed and stepped back into the main part of his massive bedroom. “Hunter?” I called out.
I found him lying on his bed, fast asleep. It was probably the first time he’d slept in days, given how tired he looked earlier.
I watched his chest rise and fall for a while, finding the steady rhythm strangely calming. Then I leaned down, kissed his forehead, and said goodbye.
I headed out into the hall and padded down the stairs.
“Laney?”
I looked up to see Adam standing by the landing, eyes wide.
“Oh. Hey,” I said, flashing him a nervous smile as I approached.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Uhh…” I racked my brain for an excuse. “Hunter messaged me and asked me to come and see him. He wanted to talk about our feud.”
“Oh, right.” His brows furrowed with concern. “Is everything okay now?”
Savage Prince: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Royal Falls Elite Book 1) Page 31
