Pretty Dead Girls

by Monica Murphy

  “What do you mean, all of them?”

  “All the girls who are dead! Did you hook up with Dani?”

  He slowly shakes his head. “No. I didn’t. I hardly knew Dani.”

  I blink at him, my mind a twisted mess involving too many things. Courtney and Lex and Gretchen. He’s been with them. Maybe Dani wasn’t the intended victim. Maybe it was supposed to be Courtney who should be dead.

  If Cass is the killer, that makes sense.

  “I hooked up with those girls because I was their freaking drug dealer, okay? They wanted meds and I got them meds. Prescription pills. Sometimes I had the weed connection, too, but mostly it was pills. I provided them with whatever they wanted and in turn, I got invited to the best parties. Got to hang out with the most popular girls, but it was all kept hidden. They kept me hidden,” he says, sounding bitter. “So there, Pen. That’s my dirty little secret. Do with it what you want. Go ahead and tell the world I’m the reformed drug dealer hell-bent on killing every girl who’s ever wronged me.”

  My eyes go wide and I part my lips, but no words come out. Was I that obvious?

  “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” Cass confirms. “It’s written all over your face. You’d be a terrible poker player, Pen. At least, you would be with me. I know what you’re thinking pretty much all the time.” He leans over the console, his gaze zeroed in on mine. His voice is low, and deathly serious. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t murder those girls. I considered them friends. I didn’t know Dani, but I have no reason to kill her. I had no reason to kill any of them. Hell, I was with you when Dani was murdered. I can’t be in two places at once, right?”

  I close my eyes and press my lips together, trying to focus. He’s right. I know he’s right. But still. Why is he connected so closely to them? He looks suspicious and I wish he didn’t. I don’t want the connection.

  I don’t want the doubt.

  “Do you believe me?”

  Opening my eyes, I find him watching me carefully, his gaze unwavering. I study his face, wishing I’d known him longer, so we could’ve had more time to build our friendship or whatever.

  Oh my God, that sounded so corny in my head. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I’m torn. That’s my problem. I want to believe him. I do. But it’s difficult. I barely know him. Worse, I don’t know what or who to believe anymore.

  “Penelope.” He whispers my full name, something he rarely says. He always just calls me Pen. “Tell me. Do you believe me?”

  “I want to.” I swallow hard, my throat raw. “It’s just…we haven’t known each other for very long.”

  “Do you ever feel afraid when you’re with me? Have I given you any reason to make you think I might hurt you? Or I might hurt someone else? I can’t help my past, it’s just there. It’s my burden to carry for the rest of my life. I had nothing to do with what my mom did to my dad.”

  “I know you didn’t. You’re right.” I want to touch him, but I’m scared. Nervous.

  There are too many what-ifs running through my mind.

  “You’re just as connected to them as I am. Even more so,” he reminds me, his voice soft. “I could think you did it.”

  My heart drops. Seriously? “Do you?”

  “No, of course not,” he says emphatically. “I trust you. We haven’t known each other long, but I can tell what kind of person you are. And you’re definitely not a murderer.”

  We’re quiet for a moment, and all I can hear is our soft breathing, the sound of the occasional car passing by. I don’t know what to do or what to say. I decide to go with my gut instinct.

  “I don’t think you’re a murderer,” I whisper shakily. “I don’t.”

  The faintest smile curves his full lips. He almost looks triumphant. “Good to know, because I’m not. Come here.” He tugs on my hand and pulls me closer so he can kiss me. And it’s a searing kiss, his lips hot and almost hungry as they linger on mine. “We’ll figure this out together, okay?” he murmurs against my lips once the kiss is over. “I think we’re getting closer to the killer.”

  “You do? Who is it?” His lips are a distraction and I want him to kiss me again. Make me forget everything but the touch of his mouth on mine. But maybe I don’t. When he kisses me, I can’t think straight.

  “I have some theories.” He puts the SUV back into drive and turns onto the main road. “Want to grab some dinner and we can talk about it?”

  He moves at lightning speed, I swear. One minute we’re fighting, the next we’re kissing. Now he’s easygoing, like we have zero problems, yet only a few minutes ago, I thought he could be the killer. Now he’s asking me if I want to go out to dinner.

  I’m so confused. My head freaking hurts.

  “Um, sure. Okay. Let me text my mom.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and send her a quick text, telling her I’m going to dinner with Cass. Usually I just say I’m going with friends. For some reason, I want to be specific tonight. “Where did you want to go?”

  “That pizza place on Main?” he suggests.

  “Sounds good.” I tell Mom that’s exactly where we’re going.

  After all, I can’t be too safe, right?

  Chapter

  Thirty-Four

  We remain quiet for much of the drive, and after a while, I start to feel like something’s wrong. Cass is eerily quiet and I glance over at him. His body is stiff, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles are white. The tension radiates off him in palpable waves, making me nervous. He’s usually so calm.

  The way he’s acting right now, he’s…scaring me.

  “What’s wrong?” I finally ask when the growing silence becomes almost unbearable.

  “There’s a car just behind mine, tailing me close.”

  “So?” There are jerk drivers everywhere.

  “Pretty sure it’s following us.” His voice is low, filled with grim truth, and I glance in the side mirror, my breath catching in my throat. I watch the car, noticing that it keeps a decent enough distance that it might go undetected if you weren’t inclined to notice.

  But I notice. And so did Cass.

  “Maybe you should turn off on one of the side streets,” I suggest, my gaze locked on those two bright headlights in the mirror. They seem to inch forward and then retreat, as if the car is playing some sort of chicken game with us. Or maybe it’s just my overwrought imagination. Today has been nonstop drama. I’m tempted to tell Cass to just take me home.

  “What? So it’ll follow us when we’re on an unfamiliar street and we end up trapped?” Cass shakes his head. “No way. I’m staying on the main road.”

  “Speed up and make a sudden right or whatever. Pull into someone’s driveway and shut off the lights. You can throw him off our trail.” I’ve seen them do it on TV and in the movies, but does that sort of thing really work?

  Probably not. But I don’t know what else to do.

  Cass’s foot presses down on the accelerator, and the engine roars as the Lexus SUV picks up speed, making me reach out and grip the handle on the inside of the door. I hate that he’s going so much faster, but we need to get away from this car.

  “Who do you think it is?” I ask quietly.

  “I don’t know. Brogan? Maybe Courtney?”

  I can’t imagine Courtney chasing after us. Or Brogan. But I can’t imagine them killing someone, either, so…I don’t know what to think.

  “Maybe we’re being paranoid.” I want to think that. It’s so much easier to believe, especially after the day we’ve had.

  “I don’t think so,” Cass says, his voice firm.

  “Then what are we going to do?” I’m whispering. Panicking. My gaze never leaves the side mirror and that car is right there, on our ass, and I’m quietly freaking the hell out.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Cass says, readjusting his hands on the steering wheel and flexing his fingers. He maintains a steady speed, his eyes never leaving the road, and I realize as we round a tight corne
r that we’re getting closer to the narrow canyon road. The one that twists and turns as it leads us back down into town. “But you’re not going to like it.”

  “How do you know?” My voice is sharp, and I immediately regret my tone.

  “I could get rid of him, but it’ll be risky,” he continues. I hear the engine rev, the car shoots forward, and my stomach twists with nerves.

  “Aren’t you driving a little too fast?” I ask, my voice high pitched, revealing my fear.

  He slides me a look, dark eyebrows raised, lips curled into a little smirk. Oh, he’s cute when he does that.

  Fine, he’s hot when he does that. Even in our time of crisis I’m cataloging all the ways Cass Vincenti is attractive. The dark hair and eyes, how he doesn’t say much, but it’s like he never really needs to. He’s infuriating and frustrating and sexy and I like his voice, how deep and measured it is. He is the rare boy who thinks before he speaks. There is nothing spontaneous about Cass, though he can be surprising.

  How he’s looking at me at this very moment is both infuriating and tantalizing, all at once. There’s this arrogant tilt to the corners of his full lips, and it screams that he’s totally got this handled. And maybe he really does, but I’m not sure.

  I still can’t help but wonder if he’s a consummate liar who’s got everyone snowed—including me.

  “Don’t worry. I know every crook and turn in these roads,” he drawls as he relaxes his grip on the steering wheel. “I’ve been driving them for years.”

  “For years?” Doubt fills me. He’s totally pushing it. “Give me a break.”

  “I’m serious—remember how I told you I’ve been driving since I was thirteen?” He sends me a look. “I’ve driven up and down this road hundreds of times.”

  “Hundreds?” I ask weakly. I do remember him telling me about the driving thing, but I thought he was joking. Exaggerating.

  “Oh yeah. My grandma’s eyesight isn’t so good anymore, and she’d become anxious every time she got behind the wheel.”

  “That’s so sad.” I like his grandma. She was nice, though a bit odd. And I like the fact that Cass is so good to her. It seems he really wants to take care of her.

  “She’s fine. She likes bossing me around, so me driving and her telling me where to go works for her.” He glances in the rearview mirror, and the flash of a passing car’s lights casts a bright white stripe slashing across his face. “That car is still trailing us.”

  Glancing in the side mirror, I see that the car is behind us. Cass chooses that moment to take a curve extra fast, making the tires squeal, and I gasp. “You’re scaring me,” I murmur. It feels like my heart just flew into my throat.

  “Just wait. What I really want to do is going to scare you even more,” he says cryptically.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “You’ll have to trust me on this.”

  “Okay.” I clamp my lips shut. I shouldn’t automatically agree, right? I’m still having trust issues, even though I’d never say that out loud. This entire day has been confusing. I don’t know who to believe anymore.

  “No demanding we back out once we commit,” he says, his gaze never wavering from the road. “That’s a surefire way to get ourselves hurt.”

  His words are ominous. Like a warning. “Fine. I’m all in.”

  He eases up on the gas pedal, just the slightest bit. The car slows, the vehicle behind us drawing closer. So close I swear it looks like it’s going to eat the back bumper. “I don’t want you to freak out.”

  “Oh my God, Cass.” Why is he slowing down? “Just tell me.”

  “You have to promise me one thing first.” His gaze meets mine, lingering a moment too long. He should be watching the road, not staring at me. “Say you’ll promise.”

  “I promise,” I readily agree, frowning. “But what am I promising?”

  He’s staring straight ahead once more, his fingers sliding over the steering wheel, almost like a caress. “You can’t scream.”

  What?

  “I mean it. No screaming. No yelling. You must remain quiet. I need you to trust me, Pen.” He hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “Do you trust me?”

  Do I? He’s already asked me once and I said yes, but the doubt still creeps in. He scares me a little. He also—God, I am so ridiculous thinking this, but—he turns me on. He does. There’s something about him. He has this edge that other boys don’t have. And when he touches me, kisses me…

  I’d probably do just about anything he asks me to.

  So how can I doubt him when we’ve already gone this far together?

  “I won’t scream,” I tell him quietly. “And I won’t yell. I promise.”

  “Okay.” He nods once, then hisses out a breath between his teeth. I chance a glance at him, the way his dark hair falls over his forehead, how he’s squinting his eyes. What he’s about to do, what’s about to happen, feels…dangerous. “Here it goes.”

  With a flick of his wrist he turns the car’s headlights off. Like, completely off. The road goes dark. I suck in a breath, hold it until I feel like it’s choking me. He hits the gas pedal hard, the SUV roaring to life as he flies down the road. A dangerous, winding road where multiple car crashes occur every year. The windows are down, the wind blows through my hair, blasts against my face, and I close my eyes.

  I’m scared, and I can’t make a sound. Not a peep. I hold on to the handle right above the window, gripping it with both hands as Cass takes the twisty road with ease. My gaze is trained on the side mirror and I watch for the car lights behind us.

  They’re still there.

  I want to yell at Cass, go faster! He’s still following us! But I clamp my lips shut. I can’t talk, I can’t yell. I can’t even freaking cry, and I sort of want to.

  Cass hits the accelerator even harder and he jerks the wheel to the side, cruising down the road like it’s no big deal. The car lights behind us start to get farther away, and the quietest whimper leaves me.

  If he keeps up this pace, we’ll get rid of them soon.

  He takes another turn, and the vehicle sways. The SUV is top heavy and tall, and it could probably topple over if Cass turns too hard. I close my eyes and hang on to the handle above my head, my body flopping back and forth as I struggle to keep myself still. I’m clenching my teeth so tight my jaw hurts.

  “Hold on,” Cass suddenly yells. “Hold on, hold on, hold on.”

  I do as he says, my eyes popping open and automatically going to the side mirror. There’s even more distance between us and the other car now. I’m trembling from a mixture of fear and excitement. I can hear the matching excitement in Cass’s voice. He’s not scared. I’m starting to believe he’s enjoying this.

  Without warning, he hits the brakes, the car squealing to a stop as he jerks the steering wheel left, sending the SUV careening down a narrow side street. We shoot straight down a steep hill, the car flying at high speed. We hit potholes and bumps, the car rocks and the tires squeal. Until finally, finally Cass makes a sharp right and we’re headed down a long gravel driveway, toward a house in the middle of a clearing. There are no lights on within the house, and I almost hope someone comes out through the front door to help us.

  As we draw closer, though, I can tell, even in the dark, that the house is abandoned. The front yard is run-down and there are no cars parked anywhere. There’s no sign of human life to be found at all.

  Cass drives past the house, whips around directly behind it, and immediately shuts off the engine.

  It’s over. I hear nothing but the sounds of our accelerated breaths, the tick of the engine as it cools, the wind blowing through the trees outside. The other car never appears, even after we sit there for a few minutes.

  We lost them.

  Cass leans back against the seat, staring up at the roof of the car. He pushes both of his hands through his hair, shoving it off his face, and all I can do is stare at him, aghast. At a complete loss for words.

  “Fuck, tha
t was crazy, wasn’t it?”

  And then he laughs. Actually laughs.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Five

  I’m trembling. My entire body is shaking so hard, my teeth are chattering. “You drive like an absolute maniac.”

  “I know.” He laughs even harder. Now he actually sounds like a maniac. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”

  I want to hit him. Just beat the shit out of him for scaring me so damn bad. “You’re crazy.”

  “You know it.” He’s grinning like a lunatic and that’s it. I give in to my urges and punch his arm. Hard. So hard, my knuckles hurt because he is solid muscle. I hit him again, then one more time for good measure. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  “Ow.” He rubs his arm, glaring at me. “I told you it was going to be scary.”

  “You could’ve killed us!”

  “But I didn’t.” Oh, he has some nerve to sound smug.

  “You are such an asshole.” I just let loose and start pummeling him, hitting him where I can, smacking and punching his arms, his chest, his shoulders. Cass finally grabs hold of my wrists, wrapping his fingers around them so tight I can’t hit him anymore.

  “Chill out. We’re okay,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with mine. We’re both breathing heavily, our frantic inhales and exhales loud in the otherwise quiet of the car’s interior. The windows are still down, and I can hear the chirp of the bugs outside, the howling wind, the occasional dog barking.

  “Duck,” Cass whispers, jerking me down so we’re both practically flat across our seats, facing each other over the center console. It’s so freaking uncomfortable, and I’m about to tell him he’s overreacting when car lights sweep over us, illuminating the SUV’s interior for the briefest moment.

  I’m still trembling. Even harder this time, but I realize fast the car was coming down the hill and has already driven by. Cass sits back up, running a hand through his unruly hair, messing it up even worse. “The car’s gone. It wasn’t them.” He glances down to where I’m still curled up, half hanging over the seat, my lower body curled onto the floorboard. “Pen. You okay?”