Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  “He took me to look at a house he’s considering purchasing. I was just wondering if maybe it was the same one he bought for you back in the day?”

  Tess just stares at me.

  “Doubtful. There’s a family that lives there now.” She sighs. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your time with Justin, but I’d love it if you’d keep my warnings in mind.”

  “I will,” I promise, disappointment flooding me. A family lives there? Really? What family? I clutch the book against my side, remembering suddenly that Justin all but suggested I show it to Tess. “Look what he got for me.”

  I hold out the Agatha Christie novel, and Tess stares down at it like I’ve just offered up a jar full of poisonous spiders.

  “Interesting. I see he’s taking cheap shots at me when I’m not even around.” Tess takes off down the hall without another word, intercepting Paul in the doorway to the living room. They murmur to each other for a moment before heading into the kitchen.

  Great.

  That went absolutely nowhere.

  The only positive is that Kimber doesn’t seem to be around. I’d really rather not see her after the shit she pulled in the hedge maze.

  I head upstairs to find Maxx waiting for me.

  “Chasm had to stay home again,” he admits, sitting on the edge of my bed. I wonder where we’re at exactly after today’s kiss and confession. But if I’m honest with myself, even if we were married, I wouldn’t be in the mood tonight. I need to finish reading this book and see if I can’t puzzle out the answer to Parrish’s location. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Well, I asked Justin to show me Parrish, and this is what I got.” I hand over my phone, showing a still from the live feed he allowed me to glimpse for all of two seconds at the table. Parrish was pacing again and cursing up a storm; I have a feeling he’s going stir-crazy in there. “Check it out and see if you can’t place the labels on the wine bottles. Justin all but confirmed that we’re looking for meaningful locales, but it never hurts to double-check.”

  “No problem.” Maxx rises to his feet, moving over to sit at my desk where his laptop’s waiting. He pauses for a minute to scratch at the back of his neck. “I spoke to Maxine again today, after Chas dropped me off at my Jeep.”

  I go completely still, turning to look at him as I drop my book bag to the floor. Clearly, whatever Maxx has to tell me, he wants Justin to hear. Or else he doesn’t care either way. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

  “I told her that I was into you, and that I was sorry. That I should’ve broken up with her first, but that nothing happened between you and me prior to that.”

  Ugh.

  Yeah, Justin will like this, but I don’t know how I feel about it.

  “And?” I choke out carefully, squeezing the book tight against my chest. “What did she say?”

  “She doesn’t care about me or our relationship or anything else; she misses you. She’s worried. She truly believes that Tess is blackmailing you. I can’t talk her out of it without giving too much away, so I just let her believe it.”

  I nod. There’s no good way to handle this, but at least that’s something. And I’m glad Maxx is being as honest with my sister as he can be. That’s the most important thing to me.

  He moves over to me, brushing some hair back from my forehead.

  “Read your book, Kota. I got this wine thing handled. Anything else you want from me? You just ask. Snacks, hot cocoa, a foot massage.”

  I give him a look.

  “You’d really give me a foot massage?” I query back and he grins, pushing hair off his own forehead in a way that just sings look at me, I’m a gorgeous, confident bastard, aren’t I? Never in my life did I think I would fall for three guys at the same time. Yet, it’s happening. I have three crushes. Three … whatevers.

  “Ask me,” he commands, crossing his arms over his chest. “See what happens.”

  “Give me a foot massage,” I tease, and he nods his chin toward the bed.

  “Lay down, crack that novel, and give me your feet.”

  So I do, and he does, and holy shit, when his strong fingers press into the arch of my foot, I nearly pass out from the rush of pleasure that rockets through me.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I murmur, and he just lifts both brows in reply.

  “Believe it. I can be a dick, but I can also be incredibly charming in my attempts to make up for it.”

  “Uh-huh.” I give him a look in response, but I can’t maintain it. What he’s doing just feels too damn good. I don’t let myself think too hard about what we’re doing here; Chasm was right when he told me to let it lie for the time being. So I focus on my book as best I can, biting my lip as he kneads all the stress from my body through my feet.

  When he’s done, standing up to return to his duties at his laptop, he drops a single kiss on my temple, and I curl up on my side to read. But I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a smile gracing my lips.

  Oh, and the wine bottles? Maxx confirms it: they are from Secret Cache.

  Excellent.

  The idea of going to Whitehall the next morning is almost too daunting to consider. I can’t deal with that shit today. Besides, I finished the book, and I still can’t figure out the puzzle. I need to read it again.

  So I head downstairs to find Tess pouring a generous amount of Paul’s scotch into her coffee and ask if I might stay home for the day. The excuse I make is that I’ve got really terrible period cramps—to be fair, I sort of do—and she waves me off without another word.

  I text Chasm to let him know I won’t be there, and also to make sure that he’ll be safe without me. He promises that it’s actually easier for him if I’m not there anyway, so I curl up on Parrish’s bed while Maxx cleans GG’s cage, feeds him, and then settles down next to me.

  For the remainder of the day, we work with what we know.

  Maxx goes through all the books that we collected from the state hospital, searching inside for all the things I’ve checked the Agatha Christie novel for: highlights, dedications, secret letters.

  There doesn’t seem to be anything there.

  After I finish The Mysterious Affair at Styles for the second time, I want to pull my hair out.

  I’m missing something.

  Or else Justin just hasn’t fed me the information I need.

  I make another attempt to talk to Tess, but she isn’t having it. She avoids my questions and then locks herself in her office, blasting Mr. Brightside from The Killers so loudly that the windows in the upstairs shake. The song makes me think of my first time, of Parrish, and I nearly spiral, plopping myself in front of Maxx’s computer for some more internet sleuthing.

  I haven’t bothered asking Tess to give me the rest of my electronics back; I don’t want them. They’re just more tools for Justin to spy through. For now, I’ve got a phone and X’s laptop. That’s enough. When my efforts once again yield zero results, I run myself a hot bath, read the book for a third time, and go to bed early.

  The only consolation I have is that I enjoy Maxx’s company. He’s fun and outgoing and cheerful when he isn’t trying to be an alpha dick.

  Thursday morning, Maxx takes me to school and drops me off in the same spot where Chas and I were ambushed on Tuesday. Today, one of the school’s security guards is waiting there, arms crossed over his beefy chest.

  “What’s all this?” I whisper as Chasm and I slip in the side door, and I notice that several teachers are standing just outside their classrooms, watching us all.

  “The car vandalism mixed with Tuesday’s incident freaked out the administration, so …” He gestures around randomly and then shrugs. “We’ve got security detail for the rest of the week apparently. Doubt they’ll even extend this shit through finals week; all it takes is one brat bitching to their parents and voila, disorder is restored.”

  Chasm curls his lip at some of the girls as we pass by, flipping them off. One of them—actually, the brunet
te from the other day—starts toward him only to be pulled back by her friends.

  I, for one, am so relieved that school is almost over that I could cry.

  Also, I think I’ll avoid pool parties, lake gatherings, remote trails, shopping malls, drive-ins, or anywhere else I might see my classmates over the summer. Best to just to stay away from them at this point.

  Chas escorts me to class and then pauses beside me in a way I might describe as awkward if he were any other human besides Kwang-seon McKenna. The guy never gets awkward or nervous. It just isn’t in his blood.

  “Hey, uh,” he starts, running his tongue along his lower lip and then playfully flicking at one of his lip studs. “I know this is sort of … well, it’s fucked-up as all get out. But … you want to go to prom with me maybe? Or we could just not go at all. If Parrish isn’t back …” Chasm trails off and exhales as my heart pounds like crazy in my chest. I’ve waited for a moment like this for a long time. It’s a milestone, right, to be asked to prom. I’m only a sophomore anyway, and I’m getting invited to junior prom. Old Dakota would’ve been so excited that she would’ve texted Sally and Nevaeh right away, and the three of us would’ve celebrated together.

  Now, things are different. I’m just as thrilled, but in a different way.

  I reach out and snatch Chas’ tie from his pocket before he gets another dress code violation. He has like thirteen of them, but Whitehall’s punishment for that sort of thing suits him: every five violations, you write an essay on a random subject assigned by the teacher who most recently caught you. Chasm enjoys writing essays, so he doesn’t give a shit.

  I put his tie on for him anyway.

  “I’d love to go to prom with you—either way.” The words kill me, scraping past my tongue. It feels like a huge slap in the face to Parrish, but I also don’t want to see Chasm miss his junior prom. Parrish wouldn’t want that and neither do I. “But we’ll have him back by then. I can sense it.”

  I finish fixing his tie, and he gives me this slow, easy, cocky little smile.

  I shiver all over, and then flush white-hot as he leans down and sucks my lower lip between his teeth.

  “Mr. McKenna,” Ms. Miyamoto warns as she walks past. She says something else to him in Japanese, but it’s too fast and too complicated for me to follow.

  “She says, this is a school, not lovers’ lane,” he tells me with a grin, reaching out to brush his hand over my hair.

  “Have I ever mentioned how sexy I find it that you’re fluent in three languages?”

  Chasm lifts his eyes to the ceiling in mock thought.

  “Nah, I don’t think so.” He drops that heated gaze of his back to my face, and I shiver again. “You better mention it a few more times to make sure I’ve got the idea.”

  “Get out of here,” I snort, shoving at him. He laughs as he takes off, giving a little wave over his shoulder. I watch him go, satisfied that, at least for now, he’s safe with the teachers crawling the halls. Doesn’t stop everyone from staring at me when I walk into the classroom, but that’s okay.

  Just six more days of school after this, and we get a break.

  Six more days.

  What could possibly go wrong in that length of time?

  Clue: fucking everything.

  Maxx picks me up after school since Chasm’s dad wants him home again, and the two of us spend hours going over every detail we have, everything we know. But I’m convinced at this point that we’re missing something. We haven’t been given the last piece of information needed to solve this puzzle.

  If anything is going to happen, it’ll happen at Milk Carton’s official launch party tomorrow.

  “I’m nervous,” I admit as we sit on my bed together, leaning back against the wall with our arms in our laps, mirroring one another’s pose. “This party feels ominous to me, like the start of something new—but like, in a bad way. Justin keeps saying this is about payback, but he hasn’t asked me to do anything this week except let myself fall for you.”

  X turns his head to look at me, but I don’t meet his gaze. It’s too tempting. He is too tempting. If I allow myself, I’ll probably end up with him naked in my bed tonight. I want that, but also, I can’t shake this sense of dread over what’s to come tomorrow.

  “How is that working out for you by the way?” he asks in the most ridiculously nonchalant way possible, like his interest is truly just a passing thought and nothing more. When I look over at him, I find that he’s got a cocksure smirk on his face. “You can be honest with me: just say you’re in love already.”

  I snort and turn away from him, focusing my gaze on the lamp instead of his handsome face.

  “You taste like a forbidden fruit,” I admit, glad that we’re tech free for the moment. I’ve got to be careful with the heart pin however; I’d love to keep that as a secret weapon, something to perform for in order to appease Justin. For example, we dump our tech, act like we don’t know he’s watching, and put on whatever show we have to in order to make him happy.

  I can’t lose that option.

  But also, I really needed a break tonight.

  “Sister’s boyfriend is a pretty good taboo trope,” X admits, his voice surprisingly sober. “I just hope we can move past that.” He pauses again and shakes his head, slapping his hands on his thighs. “But we’re not supposed to talk about that right now, remember?”

  Maxx shoves up to his feet, reaching back for my hand.

  “Come with me.”

  I take his proffered hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet, and then I follow him downstairs.

  He seems to know exactly where he’s going, heading into the dining room and opening the bottom cabinets on the hutch. He withdraws several photo albums and stacks them on the table.

  Kimber walks by at that precise moment, freezing like a deer in the headlights when she sees what Maxx is doing.

  “You can’t show her those!” she cries out, racing into the room and snatching the top album from the stack. “These aren’t for her!”

  Maxx turns around, reaching out and grabbing the edge of the album in strong fingers. He meets Kimber’s eyes with a soberness that staggers me.

  “What you did to Chasm and Dakota on Tuesday was not okay,” he tells her, taking on a big brother tone. I love that actually, seeing Chasm and Maxx act like brothers to my own siblings. It’s too cute. It gives me hope that if something were to happen to Parrish that … No. No, I won’t let myself think like that.

  Kimber yanks on the album, and Maxx’s grip gets tighter. He keeps his gaze on her, even when her eyes wander around the dining room in search of escape.

  “Those girls will never respect you if you act like their lackey. They don’t care about you. I’m sorry to tell you that, but it’s true. Throwing your own sister under the bus because you’re jealous is a disgusting way to act.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” she screams back at him, yanking on the album until her fingers slip and she stumbles back, slamming into the wall with a grunt and then reaching up to swipe away angry tears. I see her for what she truly is in that moment: a terrified, desperate young woman who misses her brother so much that the pain is breaking her. “You are not Parrish; you will never be Parrish.”

  “I will never be Parrish,” Maxx agrees, cracking the album open and tossing it on the table. I look down to see a picture of three little boys, their arms wrapped around one another’s shoulders. My breath catches and I reach out a hand, touching the edge of the picture.

  Maxx, Chasm, and Parrish.

  Maxx looks to be around eleven, putting the other two at nine years old. So this was just after they met Chasm for the first time? My chest tightens as I brush my finger across the photo.

  “I will never be Parrish, but I’m still here for you.”

  “Fuck you, Maxx,” Kimber snarls, still scrubbing at tears. But she doesn’t leave the room. Her eyes flick to mine, and I stare right back at her.

  “I forgive you, you know. We
’re sisters—even if that’s not necessarily something either of us ever asked for or wanted.”

  She just stares back at me before whipping her head away to look at the wall.

  Ben pops his head around the corner a moment later, adjusting his small tortoiseshell glasses.

  “You’re looking at Parrish?” he asks, trying and failing to hide the tremor of excitement in his voice.

  “We are,” Maxx agrees, pulling out a chair for me and gesturing to it with a flourish. With a sad but very genuine smile, I take a seat and he sits beside me. “Want to join us?”

  Ben thinks for a moment before nodding.

  “Give me a second,” he says, disappearing around the corner and then reappearing with Amelia and Henry in tow. Ben sits beside me which I appreciate more than I could even put to words, while the twins sit across from us and then, after a furtive glance at one another, climb on the table to sit in front of the stack of albums.

  Maxx glances at Kimber again, still standing in the corner like a petulant brat. But that’s okay. She’s only fourteen and she misses her brother; I get it. If I didn’t know all the things I do about his disappearance, I’d think he was dead, too.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” X asks her, his voice calm and even, and oh so patient. It takes a second, but when she finally turns back to us, her face is neutral. It’s a huge step up from the vitriolic rage she’s been displaying lately.

  Eventually, she makes her way around the table and sits in one of the chairs vacated by the twins.

  Beneath the safety of the tabletop, Maxx takes one of my hands and squeezes it in his. With the other, he starts to flip through the photo album, telling stories that make the twins chuckle and snort.

  When Tess walks by and sees us all gathered together in there, her eyes fill with tears and she very quickly dashes away.

  Can’t say I blame her.

  If I were reading this scene in a book, I’d truly and honestly believe that Parrish Vanguard was about to die.