“I’m lucky to have a dad who kills people?” I query back, but Mr. Volli doesn’t have much of a reaction. He redirects his attention back to his computer and goes about studiously ignoring us. With another curse, Chasm grabs my wrist and drags me from the room, chucking the keys into a nearby potted plant. Huh.
“I have a better idea,” he tells me, gaze sliding over to the door to the classroom. “On Tuesdays, I help with office work for extra credit. Why don’t I see if I can’t find this fucker’s address, and we check out his house?”
“What the hell would I do without you?” I ask. It isn’t meant to be a rhetorical question, but Chasm gives me a slight smile, reaches out to ruffle my hair, and takes off down the hall without me.
I still don’t know what, exactly, it was that he said to Parrish that day.
But I have my guesses.
Whitehall Prep is a different place now than it was before Parrish went missing.
As I walk down the halls after school with my book bag slung over one shoulder, I can feel the other students’ eyes on me. Watching. Hunting. Waiting for drama.
“I’ve got it,” Chasm says, catching up to me just before I slip out the doors at the end of the hall. He pushes that lightning-bolt colored hair back from his forehead. “Mr. Volli’s address. Should we check it out?”
“I’m meeting with my sister today,” I tell him, already regretting agreeing to this. Of course I want to see Maxine, but it feels like we’re on a countdown here. Sure, Parrish’s kidnapper—I’m having a really hard time thinking of the guy as ‘dad’—told me there was no deadline other than Parrish’s personal strength. But that fourteen-day thing is killing me. All of the Slayer’s previous victims were killed somewhere around the two-week mark. What if he’s lying to me and Parrish only has five days left?
Besides that, the awful marks on Parrish’s chest haunt my dreams. He must be in so much pain …
I bite my lip, realize I’m imitating Maxx yet again, and huff out a frustrated sigh.
He isn’t quite the saint I thought he was. Somehow, that’s intriguing to me. Somehow, that makes me hate myself just a little bit more for realizing that. I guess I like assholes? And unavailable people. That’s my kink, apparently.
“Ah,” Chasm says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black blazer. It kills me that the school uniform matches my hair with the lime-green stripes in the plaid of the skirt and the pattern on the tie. In the merch shop, there’s even a whole line of lime-green joggers, sports bras, and sneakers. “I’m guessing Maxx is giving you a ride?”
“You’d be guessing right,” I admit, trying not to dread this excursion. Maxine is going to have a lot of questions, questions that I can’t answer. And X … well, I’d sort of like to avoid the guy as much as I can. He’s too perceptive, too focused. Eventually, he’s going to figure it out and I’ll have a wildcard on my hands.
“Consider bringing him into the loop.” Chasm reaches out and opens the doors for me, holding out a hand to usher me through. I slip outside and he follows after. “He isn’t going to let this go, and it might do more harm than good if he figures it out on his own.”
“I’ll think about it,” I promise, giving Kimber a look. She’s sitting on the ground next to the exterior wall of the school, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. She looks a bit like a drowned kitten. “Do you think you could give her a ride?” I ask, looking back at Chas.
While I’m thinking about it, I slide my Tess-phone from my pocket and send her a quick text about the search party—and also about Chasm taking Kimber home. She might not like that, but I keep my fingers crossed.
Maxx let me know you’d be with him but thank you for keeping me informed. I appreciate that. If your plans change at all, please tell me right away. Open communication is vital. Chasm can drop Kimber off, that’s fine, but he needs to go home after.
Right. Because of the whole condom debacle.
I sigh as Chas reads the text over my shoulder, hoping he doesn’t get his feelings hurt by Tess’ curtness. If he does, he makes no mention of it.
“Yeah, I’ll take care of her.” He licks his lower lip, like he might be gearing up to add something else to the conversation. There’s a tension between us that wasn’t there before. It’s the sort of tension that comes with realizing you’re attracted to someone. Not just physically either. I’m attracted to everything about Chasm. His love for Parrish, his quick wit, his intelligence, his surprisingly generous nature. None of which would be a problem if I hadn’t just slept with his best friend, if I wasn’t in love with his best friend. And, also, if his best friend wasn’t missing, tied up by a famous serial killer who also claims to be my bio dad. “Stay safe, Little Sister.” Chasm reaches out and grabs my tie, yanking me a step closer to him, until our mouths are nearly touching.
My breath releases in a rush and Chasm inhales sharply, giving a little shudder in response.
“Why the fuck do you smell like strawberries and sugar all the time? Even your breath smells sweet.”
“Chasm,” I warn, because my hands are this close to reaching out and touching his pretty face. “Please let go of me.”
He gives me a sharp look, his amber eyes burning with intent.
“Don’t do anything reckless without me, okay? If he contacts you, you call me right away. I’ll be camping my phone, just in case.” Chas releases me suddenly, his eyes sliding over to Kimber. I glance her way and find those dark eyes of hers boring into the pair of us.
It’s no secret that she has a crush on Chasm; she won’t like it if she realizes that I do, too.
“I’ll call you,” I promise, just as Maxx’s orange Jeep rolls up to the curb. I take off before I get in anymore trouble with Chasm and hop in, dropping my book bag to the floor with a heavy sigh.
“Chas has Kimber covered, so we don’t need to drop her off.”
“Everything okay?” X asks as we roll away from the school and head down the white gravel road toward the gate. “Anything new to report?”
I give him a look.
“If there was any news on Parrish, you’d probably know before I did.” I shrug my shoulders and keep my gaze focused out the windshield. Looking at Maxx is too hard. There’s just something about him that makes me want to tell the truth. I can’t explain it. He inspires honesty in me, and honesty is something that could get Parrish killed.
As we drive, I work through scenarios in my head. Mr. Volli’s home address is a good start; we might be able to find some clues there. It’s too obvious of a spot for Parrish to actually be held captive, but that doesn’t mean we can’t learn anything from going there.
A DNA test might be nice, just to see if Mr. Volli is my father. If he might actually be Parrish’s sole kidnapper, and he’s just screwing with us. But where am I going to get money for a DNA test? From Tess? Would I have to send it into a private lab, or could I just order a few kits from some mainstream site and see if Mr. Volli and I end up as family matches?
Then again, how would I get him to spit in the little plastic tube? Not a great solution.
Besides, this guy, Parrish’s kidnapper, whoever he might be, is too careful. He’s too smart. He’s so confident that he won’t get caught that he plays games. Someone like that wouldn’t work at the school of the student he’d just kidnapped.
It’s too obvious.
I bite my thumbnail and X flicks his gaze my direction.
“Maxine’s really excited to see you,” he explains, clearly doing his best to make harmless small talk. I glance over at him, still nibbling on my nail. “She’s been worried.”
“I’m not the one she should be worried about,” I reply absently, trying and failing to ignore the bundle of nerves I’ve become. Rather than focus on Maxx any further, I get out my phone and start going through the comments on my video.
There are thousands. Not only that, but I’ve gotten plenty of video replies as well. More than I could ever watch or respond to in a million years. How am I
supposed to filter through all of this stuff?
I scroll the comments, looking for anything that stands out.
Most of it’s crap—I mean, it’s the internet, of course it is—but there’s something that catches my attention right away.
The Vanguards’ security system is provided by Fort Humboldt Security, Inc. Anybody else think that’s sus as hell that the footage is missing, and the alarm never went off?
Fort Humboldt Security?
A quick search reveals that Fort Humboldt Security is a multi-billion-dollar, privately-owned security firm. Off I go again, sleuthing through the copious depths of the internet for more information. Nothing catches my attention until I see that one, the company is based in Seattle. And two … the current CEO is Seamus McKenna.
The blood drains from my face as I click the link and follow it to a photo of Chasm’s father.
How … why didn’t Chasm tell me about this?! I mean, there’s a chance he wasn’t aware that his father’s company provided the security for the Vanguards’ house. But come on! This is a huge fucking deal.
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” X comments, one hand on the top of the steering wheel, the other tap-tap-tapping a nervous rhythm on his door. He glances at me and raises a dark brow in question. The interior of the vehicle is permeated with his scent, that vibrant, sporty citrus smell that makes me feel fidgety.
I shove those feelings down as hard as I can, backing away from them like the monstrous things they are.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me that Chasm’s father’s company provided the security systems and cameras for our house?”
“Does it matter?” Maxx queries, cursing under his breath as he takes in the parking situation outside the café. He’s going to have to circle the block a few times to find a spot or else use one of the nearby parking garages. Seattle is sort of … ehh to me. I miss the Catskills.
“I guess not,” I reply, slipping my phone back in the pocket of my blazer. But it does matter. Because that commenter is right, and they’ve brought up something that’s been on my mind since that night. The security cameras just happened to be recording to a full drive? They also just happened to be disconnected from the network and unable to upload the videos to the cloud? That isn’t accidental.
Somebody messed with them.
But who? The kidnapper? Paul? Chasm? Delphine? Shit, it could’ve been Tess herself.
I’ve made myself a spreadsheet on my phone to keep track of clues—I know, I’m too much sometimes even for myself—and write that tidbit down to explore later. I’ll talk to Chasm about it tonight.
Maxx finally snags a space not too far away, using the automatic parallel parking feature on his car to squeeze us into a disturbingly small spot.
We climb out together and walk the two blocks without talking. There just isn’t a lot to say right now. He thinks I’m a liar; I know I’m a liar. But we can’t really reconcile those two things without causing harm to Parrish.
Parrish.
I swallow past the hurt and open the glass door to the café, stumbling back when Maxine appears out of nowhere and throws her arms around my neck.
“Oh, Kota, I’ve been so worried,” she murmurs, squeezing me so hard that she nearly hugs the tears right out of me. I want so badly to curl up in her arms and pretend I’m twelve all over again, that I’ve just gotten my period and I’m weeping while she pets my hair and murmurs comforting things for hours. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I manage to choke out as Maxine pulls away and puts her hands on my shoulders, looking me over with an assessing eye. “Really, Maxie, I’m fine.” She lifts her gaze up to stare at X over my shoulder.
“Does she look okay to you?” she asks him before immediately returning her gaze to me. “You look skinnier. Have you been eating? X, I told you to make sure she was eating.”
He holds up his hands in protest as he moves out of the way of the door so a couple can scoot past us.
“I made her coffee this morning,” he promises as my sister narrows her eyes at me. “I watched her drink it.”
Maxine purses her lips and then puts an arm around my shoulders, guiding me over to the table. It is, coincidentally, the same table that we sat at the day we were caught by Tess. Not only does it hurt to sit down on the same bench that Parrish used when he was here, but it also gives me a bad feeling.
This is an omen. I mean, I don’t really believe in omens, but it’s hard not to take this as a sign of bad things to come.
Ugh, I hate being right.
“How are you holding up?” Maxine asks, pushing over an iced double chocolate mocha with extra whip and chocolate drizzle. I smile as I tuck the drink between my hands and drag it close; my sister knows me so well. Most small problems can be solved with coffee and chocolate.
This … isn’t exactly a small problem. Still, the gesture warms my heart.
“Stressed-out. Sad. Angry,” I admit, taking a drink as X settles into the seat on my right. There’s a watermelon Italian soda waiting for him because Maxie is just awesome like that. She’d take care of the whole world if she could.
Maxine reaches out and takes one of my hands in hers, giving it a warm squeeze before rubbing her thumb across my knuckles in a soothing motion. Her eyes, so much like Saffron’s, so much like mine, study me carefully. I know she can see the dark circles under my eyes, the sallow color of my skin. It’s no secret that I’ve been having trouble sleeping.
“None of this is your fault, you know that, right?” she tells me, unaware that her gentle words are like a knife to the heart. Nearly all of this is my fault, actually. If the kidnapper is to be believed, he’s my father. And he chose Parrish for a reason. Because of me. Because I fell in love with him? “This whole mess isn’t on your shoulders, Kota.” Maxine exhales and casts a wary glance over at X. He isn’t looking at her, however. Instead, he’s staring at me like he thinks he can dig up all my secrets. “I saw your video,” she explains, forcing a smile. “I’m glad you’re back on social media; you have a ton of followers now.”
I do. I really, really do.
It’s amazing how important all of that seems, the likes and the comments, the followers and subscribers. It can easily consume your entire world; it feels like it is the world. But when it comes down to it, none of that matters at all. You start to realize that you’d trade the world for just one more smile from the person you love, that you’d give up the internet forever just to hear them laugh again.
“It isn’t your job to find Parrish,” Maxine says softly. Everything she’s saying would make sense in almost any situation but for the one that I’m in. See, the thing is, it really is wholly and completely up to me to find my missing … boyfriend? Considering what happened between us the night before he went missing, and the conversation we had after, I think it’d be fair to call him that. “This isn’t all on you, baby sister. Don’t feel like you have more responsibility just because the two of you—”
She stops talking suddenly, her gaze flicking to Maxx before I lift up a hand and wave it absently in her direction.
“It’s okay. Chasm already opened his big mouth and blurted out the truth. Maxx knows.”
“Wait, wait, what?” Maxine chokes, scooting her chair even closer to me. I stick my straw between my lips and pretend like I’m not embarrassed. The café is so cozy, so homey, it’d be easy to pretend that we’re just two sisters having a completely normal conversation here.
And oh god, how I wish I could talk to Maxine about what happened. The sex was … well, it was amazing. An entire world of possibilities unfurled before me. I feel so connected to Parrish, so in love with him. I couldn’t stop smiling the entire time. All I want is to see him again, to have him hold me, to find out where we can take all of these wonderful feelings.
It’s all so new, so tender, so strange, I want to talk to Maxine about it. I want to tell her every detail and get her opinion on all of it. But I can’t. And not just because he
r boyfriend is sitting at the table with us.
It might smell like croissants and espresso in here, there might be soft jazz music playing against the gentle clink of porcelain mugs against saucers, but this isn’t a normal day. I’m standing on a tightrope, and if I’m not hypervigilant, I will fall. I’ll tumble down a dark hole that I’ll never be able to crawl out of.
The feel of the gun in my hands, the way Mr. Fosser’s body jerked as I fired several shots into his chest.
I nearly throw up right there on the antique table.
“How does Chasm know about that?” Maxine wonders aloud, giving X another surreptitious look. This time, he meets her gaze and shakes his head slowly. He doesn’t know either. But I’m sure he’d like to understand. “So he does like you,” she murmurs, and I recall vaguely that Parrish mentioned that to her last time we were at the café.
Maxine looks back at me.
“You’re not in a thruple, are you?” she asks, and I balk. “I mean, I’m not judging, but … are you?”
“No!” I blurt, feeling my cheeks, forehead, and tits turning crimson. “He just … he happened to be standing outside Parrish’s door when we were on our way out to find condoms. He’s actually the one who gave us the condoms in the first place.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear you used condoms,” Maxine offers up as X cringes and rubs at the back of his neck with his right hand. Does my sister know that he’s a virgin? She must, right? She’s been sexually active with all of her previous boyfriends; she’d definitely wonder about X since he isn’t, uh, putting out. Or however you want to phrase it. “Does anyone else know?”
By anyone else, I’m assuming she means Tess.
“Lumen and Danyella, but that’s it.” I tap my fingers on the side of my cup, teasing droplets of cool condensation. “Tess can’t … well, Parrish wanted to tell her, but we were going to do it together. She absolutely cannot find out while he’s missing.”
It feels imperative to me that we keep this a secret from her for the time being. Not only out of respect for Parrish, but because I don’t want the full force of that woman’s wrath to fall on me. If she knows that, the night before he disappeared for nine freaking days, we had sex for the first time, she’ll blame me.
Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2) Page 5
