by Angel Lawson
He zips up his letter jacket. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not.” He pulls the keys from his mom’s car out of his pocket. “And I don’t need a ride.”
“Fine, you can drive, but let me come with you.” I give him a pleading smile. “Please?”
He walks over to the SUV and I follow, standing on the opposite side.
“Why do you want to come?”
“Because while you look for the device, I’m going to poke around Rose’s room and see if we’re missing anything.”
He nods. “Okay, but be prepared, you’re going to have to climb a tree.”
Shit.
We don’t talk much on the way to the house. The whole neighborhood feels quiet—all the adults are probably at the fundraiser.
I flip the vents open and closed. “Have you thought about how Rose going missing pretty much gives Mr. Waller the edge in the race?”
“My dad said something like that earlier today.” He glances over. “You don’t think he’d do something to her on purpose do you?”
“Mr. Waller is pretty cutthroat, but no, I don’t think so.”
A car passes and we both look away.
“Do you think she really had daddy issues?” I ask, remembering him saying that the other night.
“She wanted his approval, and he spoiled her, big time. He liked me well enough, but I got the feeling he thought I was just trying to get in her pants.” He swallows. “Which I was—sometimes, but that wasn’t the basis of our relationship.”
“Had you two really not had sex in months?” I ask, knowing it’s incredibly intrusive.
He shakes his head. “Trust me, it wasn’t my idea. At least not at first, but then the longer we went the more I realized I didn’t exactly care. Like I said, I was distracted, and it’s becoming more and more obvious she was too.”
I pretend he’s not looking at me and stare out the window. He drives past the Waller house, circling toward the forest. He pulls off on an old dirt road and we get out.
“So you’ve done this before?” I ask, creeping along behind him.
“A couple times.”
The front of the house is well-lit, and we quickly skirt around the edges of the yard. Rose’s bedroom is in the back. There’s a small balcony off her room, which is set to face Thistle Bay. The tree I’m supposed to climb is at the corner of the house with a long branch that hangs near the balcony.
“Seriously? That’s the tree?” I’m already reconsidering. Heading back to the car to wait seems like a good idea.
Finn grabs my hand and grins down at me. “Oh, no, you wanted to come. No backing out now.”
He darts across the yard, dragging me with him. We get under the tree and he turns around. “Get on my back.”
“What?”
“There’s no way you can reach the branch on your own.”
He bends slightly and despite the fact this whole thing has turned ridiculous, I make a running leap and jump on his back. I land hard and he encourages me to get on his shoulders. On wobbly knees, I use the trunk of the tree to stabilize myself, then fully stand where I can reach the branch.
“Can you swing up?”
I heave myself with my arms, managing to get up, shaking the limb the whole time. My heart pounds, and I refuse to look down, but I’m able to scooch down the branch and hop onto the balcony.
While I catch my breath, Finn easily swings his arms and leaps in the air, catching the branch with both hands. Two seconds later he’s swung his leg over the limb and jumps onto the balcony next to me. He brushes off his hands and smiles.
“Show off,” I mutter.
He chuckles softly and opens the balcony door. Sheer curtains block the glass and we push through into the flowery scent of Rose’s bedroom. Finn walks across the room and turns on a small lamp next to the bed and I find myself frozen.
It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been in this room, and I’m surprised at how little it’s changed.
The walls are still a soft pink and the bed is the same four poster that takes up half the room. There’s a vanity, the surface covered with makeup brushes, eyeshadow palettes, mascara wands and more. The mirror has pictures tucked into the corners. I see her and Finn smiling at the homecoming game last year, the two of them on the beach, and dressed in tacky Christmas sweaters. There are more photos of her and Juliette, including a few where they’re on a boat. The bathing suits are the same as the ones from the photos in Ezra’s guest room. More pictures of Coach Chandler with his arm around both girls, the Claddagh charm nestled against Rose’s collarbone. There one of the girls standing on the back of the boat, getting ready to jump in. Mr. Baxter stands near him, his tanned skin seeming to glow in the photo. His smile is genuine and warm. The pang in my stomach is less jealousy and more wistfulness. I’m sad I missed out on sharing those events with them—I’d been relegated to a spectator at best, an enemy at worst.
I turn away and see Finn already rummaging through a few drawers, then entering her massive closet. I spot the tall bookshelf against the opposite wall. A row of familiar black and red books catches my attention.
“Wow, she still has her Audrina Dollanganger books.”
“What?” Finn asks, his voice muffled in the closet.
Audrina Dollanganger had been our favorite author when Rose and I were in middle school. They're gothic novels, filled with creepy families and their creepy houses. All the families had secrets, usually one focused around the main character—always a teenage girl. The books were deranged, but addictive, and we’d spent two years reading them over and over, hiding them from our parents, sure they’d take them away if they realized they were filled with steamy, forbidden romance.
I pull out the first book in the Eden series—our favorite. Eden had a tragic life. Her mother died in childbirth. Her father loathed her. Her stepmother was abusive. One night her father crept in her bed and tried to have his way with her—she fled—taking only the family bible with her. She searched for the names her birth mother wrote in the family tree. She found them; wealthy, educated, distinguished, but in the end, she discovers is the reason her mother fled in the first place. It was another home filled with lies and abuse.
Rose and I loved these books because they were nothing like our own lives. Sheer fantasy and completely forbidden. Eden didn’t have parents that loved her.
I flip open the cover to look at the interior design, each an original drawing for that book. A small card falls out, landing on the floor at my feet. I pick it up.
“What’s that?” Finn asks.
“I don’t know.” I look down at the plastic card, first thinking it was a credit card or gift card. Flipping it over I see the words, East Point Suites.
Finn shrugs, but holds up what he’s found, an iPod and a tablet. “One was tucked in her shoe. The other under her winter coat.”
I put the book back, but hold onto the card, slipping it into my back pocket. The name East Point Suites rings a bell, although I’m not sure why.
Finn looks at the row of books and shakes his head. “God, I remember when you guys were obsessed with those books.”
“They were great—and crazy.” I laugh. “We felt like very bad girls reading them.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Why?”
“They were filled with taboo stuff. Murder, stolen children, forbidden romance.” I feel the heat in my cheeks. “That’s where I read my first sex scene, which was disturbingly hot.”
“Why disturbingly?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Because Eden falls in love with her uncle. Very taboo.”
Finn watches me for a moment, his forehead creased. “So the whole time you guys were sitting next to me at lunch or at the pool, or wherever, you were basically reading porn?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “I guess so.”
There’s a flicker in his eye, something akin to hunger. “I always knew you were hiding something a li
ttle dark underneath all the good girl.”
“I never said I was a good girl.”
In a blink, something happens. A change. A switch flipped. It’s not just Finn. It’s me. Standing in Rose’s room. Looking at those forbidden books. Remembering what it was like to want something so badly, that it was okay to break all the rules.
Finn doesn’t move—he’s already made his move—confessing his feelings. I’m the one that’s tired of holding back, doing the right thing, being the good girl.
I reach for his jacket and pull him to me, then run my hand behind his neck. He bends and we’re close, so very close, his breath warm against my mouth.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks.
“I’ve been sure about this since we were four years old.”
That’s all the answer he needs and his mouth crashes into mine, hard, desperate, needy. It’s everything, everything, I ever thought it would be.
Finn pushes at my jacket and it falls to the ground in a near silent heap. His fingers run along my arms, igniting a current that zings across my skin. He tastes like mint, he feels like carved marble. I push his jacket off his shoulders, then fist his shirt in my hands down at the small of his back.
He pushes me backwards until the back of my thighs hit the edge of the bed. I fall, landing flat on my back, looking up at the face of an angel.
I’ve waited so fucking long for this. So goddamned long. I reach for him and pull him on top of me. His mouth, his tongue, his hands, his weight, it’s all on top of me, and even that’s not enough.
I thread my hands into his hair and he clamps one of his around my waist as his hips grind into me, pushing his very hard—
Shit.
“Stop!” I jerk up, my forehead smashing into his teeth.
“Fuck!” he cries, “Ow.”
He stands, one hand on his mouth, the other shifting the front of his jeans. I jump up and see the wrinkled white comforter. The teddy bear leaning against Rose’s pillow. What the hell have I done?
“I’m sorry,” I say, straightening the bed. The teddy bear topples over. I straighten it back, while his black, beady eyes glare accusingly. “That was—”
“Fucked up. I know.” He runs both hands through his hair. His eyes shift guiltily. “What the hell is wrong with us?”
“I don’t know.” My heart is still hammering, and I can see that he’s still excited; chest heaving, pants tight. I glance away, cheeks burning.
He leans against the end of the bed. “I feel like a man that’s been lost in the desert, and you’re a pool of fresh, sexy water.”
He doesn’t mean it to be funny, but I laugh anyway. “I know what you mean.”
Finn looks around the room, eyes widened like he’s realizing this may possibly be the last time he’s in here. “How did she have such a hold on us, and what’s life, what’s Thistle Cove, going to be like with her gone?”
I shake my head and walk over to him. “I think that’s part of the answer to all of this.”
“What?”
“The hold that Rose had on people. We loved and hated her. Everyone craved her approval and her attention. She made people jealous. Possessive.” I swallow, trying to explain what I mean. “Other people may have felt the same way. Men from that dating app. Men who played games with money and power and control.”
He nods and picks up the electronic devices he’d dropped on the bed. “We need to find out who she was meeting.”
I eye the books once more and even though it’s wrong, I pull the first Eden book off the shelf and tuck it under my arm. For some reason it’s a piece of her I want to take with me. “I agree,” I tell him. “Rose had a way of affecting people, we just need to find out exactly who they are.”
30
Ezra
Dad wakes me with the clank of his keys hitting the kitchen counter when he rolls in at ten on Sunday morning. I fell asleep on the couch, watching football highlights.
“Morning,” he says, barely looking up from his phone. He’s a chronic texter. Work, business deals, women. God knows. I rub my face. “Sorry I missed the game on Friday night. I heard you had an interception.”
“I did.”
He flashes me a mega-watt smile. “I knew you had it in you, son. Keep up the good work, and you guys will go all the way to state.”
State. I’ve been hearing the stories my whole life. Ezra Baxter and Jason Chandler—the stars of Thistle Cove High. Dad had been integral in getting Coach Chandler back to the high school, he and Mr. Waller. The way they talk, it’s like my life won’t be complete unless I have one of those rings.
“Yeah, we’ll see.” I stretch and walk over to the refrigerator. “Finn held it together on Friday, but with everything going on with Rose, he’s struggling a little.”
“It’ll die down soon,” Dad says, putting down his phone. “It’s been a week. The odds of her showing up are pretty slim.”
I frown. “That’s a little pessimistic.”
“I know the statistics. Every hour that passes with a missing person means they’re less likely to be found alive. And if Rose really jumped over that bridge, her body could be halfway to the Caribbean by now.”
“Jesus, Dad.”
People want to know why I’m so brash? I learned it from the best.
“I hate it for the Wallers. I’ve known them my whole life—held Rose in my hand when she was a baby. I feel for them, but it never helps to be naïve.”
“Is that what you think happened?” I ask. “That she jumped?”
“It’s impossible to know what’s running through the mind of an emotional teenage girl, but it’s likely. Rash, sudden suicides happen. She may have been on that bridge and just had the urge.”
Or maybe she was looking for some help—something to make it better, like drugs--and she’d been turned away. I haven’t told my dad about that or about the SugarBabies site. If he finds out my fingerprints are on any of this, he’ll flip.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out. It’s from Finn.
Got it. Can we meet at your house? 1pm?
I reply with a thumbs up.
“A few people are coming over today—to work on a school project.”
His expression is surprised. “A school project?”
“Gotta keep those grades up to stay on the team.” I dare him to challenge me. “Don’t worry. We’ll go to the game room. No one will bother you.”
“No worries. I’ll probably head back into the city later anyway. I’ve got an early meeting.”
Of course he does.
A moment later he’s gone, headed up to his room while I go to mine to shower and get ready. I’ve just put on clean clothes when the doorbell rings, and I run down the stairs.
To my surprise, Dad is already at the door.
Ozzy, Finn, and Kenley stand on the other side, the guys both with backpacks hanging over their shoulders. Kenley is carrying a large shopping bag.
She looks super cute today.
“Gentlemen,” he says, shaking Finn and Ozzy’s hands. He tilts his head at Kenley. “Do I know you?”
“Kenley Keene,” she says, offering her hand. He takes it, then clasps the other on top.
“Kenley, I haven’t seen you in years.” His eyes skim over her. “No wonder my son has a renewed interest in schoolwork.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and she shifts the bag in her hand.
“Yeah, Dad, we’re kind of in a rush, so…”
“Ah,” he says, “right. Well, use whatever you need downstairs.”
“Thanks, Mr. Baxter,” Ozzy says and we make a break for the back staircase. I pull Kenley aside.
“I’m sorry about that.”
She looks up at me with wide, blue eyes. “About what?”
“What my dad said, about my renewed interest…he’s just an ass sometimes.”
“It’s fine, Ezra. I know you’re not interested in me.”
She smiles and turns, heading down the staircase. I
watch her go, wanting to call her back and say, yeah, I am, and maybe it is motivating me a little to not be such a dumbass. But I don’t, because she just made it clear she doesn’t feel the same and we’ve got bigger fish to fry.
And maybe a murderer to catch.
31
Kenley
The Baxters' game room is the kind of thing you see on TV when they showcase celebrity houses. Comfortable leather couches. A pool table and foosball, a small kitchen filled with drinks and snacks, a wall-sized projection screen and wide array of video games.
Unfortunately, we’re not here to hang out and have a good time. We’re here to figure out what happened to Rose, and if her connection to the SugarBabies dating app can lead to finding out more about her disappearance.
Ozzy fires up the devices. Both were dead, and Finn charged them overnight.
“I’d start with the iPod. We facetimed a lot using that when her parents restricted her phone use,” Finn says.
“It’s password protected.”
We have three chances before the iPod will lock us out for the rest of the day.
“Try Finn,” I say.
He types it in. It doesn’t work.
“Her birthday? November third.”
He types the numbers in, but nope. Incorrect.
“We have one chance left,” he says.
Everyone is quiet. Finn suggests the name of her dog, Juliette’s birthday, and a few other possible choices. I close my eyes and conjure up Rose, then her room, trying to connect the dots on what’s important to her. There’s the photos of her friends, her makeup, her books…
I open my eyes. “Try Eden.”
“Eden? Like the garden?” Ozzy asks, holding his finger over the keypad.
“Eden, like the character.” I look at Finn, my cheeks heating at the memory of our discussion. “It was her favorite book.”
Ozzy nods, looking unsure, but he types it in and presses submit.
It goes through.
“You got it!” Ezra says, pulling me into a quick hug.
“Just a lucky guess.”
Finn shakes his head. “It’s not. Even after all this time, you know her better than the rest of us.”
