by Tara Kelly
Alex was my first thought. Something happened to Alex. “Hello?”
“Nova?” Megan’s voice was weak and shaky.
“What’s going on?”
“I keep trying to call Alex. He’s not home. He’s not at work. I don’t know what to do.” Her words blurred together.
“Megan—take a breath.”
She exhaled into the receiver. “I’m at the Shell station near Oswald Beach. On the highway. Can you pick me up?”
Oswald Beach was a few miles south of Emerald Cove. It was more like a wasteland than a beach, and it was big with tweakers, the homeless, and people who just didn’t want to be found. It was also a great place to set off illegal fireworks.
“Is there a party down there?” I asked. Of course the cakes wouldn’t miss another party, murdered friend and all.
“It was supposed to be, like, a tribute to Amber.” She sniffled. “Nova, I know you hate me. But please. I need help.” She whispered the last part, like someone was listening in.
“I don’t hate you. Is someone—”
“I’m using the attendant’s phone,” she continued. “I have to go. Please come.” There was a click and then silence.
I hung up and let the phone drop against my bed. If Christian wanted to make us hurt, going after Megan was the way to do it. They could’ve ganged up on her, done who knows what.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked.
“She needs me to pick her up.” I got out of bed and reached for the first clean T-shirt I could find. “Can I borrow the car?”
Mom grabbed my elbow and yanked. “Where is she?”
“Down near Oswald Beach.”
“What’s she doing there? Why is she alone? Where’s Alex?” She did this whenever she got worked up—asked one question after another without even a blink in between.
“Party. And I don’t know. She can’t get a hold of him.” I tried to reach for my jeans in the hamper, but she tightened her grip on my arm.
“How long do you think I’m going to let you not talk to me?”
“Mom, I…”
“I get that you’ve been wanting space, and I’ve been respecting that. But I’ve reached my limit.”
“I can’t do this right now.”
She studied me for a second before dropping my arm. “You’re not going down there by yourself.”
“Then let’s go.”
“I wake Gavin up now, he’ll be up all night.” Mom exhaled, running a hand through her tangled dark hair. “I’ll go get her. You stay here with him.”
I nodded at the half-empty beer bottle in her hand. “How many is that?”
“Four.” She scrunched up her face. “Shit.”
The Emerald Cove Police Department’s main focus on the Fourth of July was to bust anyone driving over the legal limit. It was usually the most excitement they got all year.
“It’s only ten minutes away,” I said. “I’ll drive right there, drop Megan off, and drive right back.”
“It’s not a good night. The storm. Everyone’s drunk…” She’d gone from laid-back Mom to hovering Mom in a week’s time. Now I knew how Gavin felt.
“She has nobody else. You know Cindy can’t drive, and I’m sure she’s passed out by now.” And she probably had no clue Megan was gone. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“Being careful isn’t enough. Not with a psycho targeting young girls.”
“We don’t know for sure if it will happen again.” I tried to keep my voice calm, rational. If she knew how afraid I was, she’d never let me go.
“Have they caught the guy? No!” She whispered through her teeth. “It’ll happen again.”
“Then we shouldn’t leave Megan stranded at a gas station.” I pulled on my jeans. They were still damp from the washer, cold against my skin.
“Call Brandon. Ask him for a ride.”
“I don’t have time for that.” I threw on Alex’s army coat.
“Don’t go anywhere.” Mom left the room and came back a minute later with two things she’d normally never be caught dead with. A cell phone—the one Eric gave her and insisted she keep for emergencies. And a small black Taser.
She handed me the phone. It was ancient and as basic as they got. “Eric set up speed-dial. Press two for home. And then hit the—”
“Mom, I know how to use a cell phone. What are you doing with a Taser?”
A boom outside made us both tense. It was loud enough to rattle the windows, which meant our neighbors had given up on waiting for the storm to end.
“I ordered them online. Just got them yesterday,” Mom said.
“Them?” She really was freaking out.
“We needed something, you know? I could only afford the cheap one, but it’ll help me sleep better at night.” She held it up and pressed a button on the side. “Turn the safety off. And then push this.” A blue flash of electricity appeared. The zapping sound made me cringe. “You’ll have to make contact. It’s not like those ones on the cop shows that shoot out at people.”
“I know. I have eyes.”
She handed it to me. “Fine, expert. You try it.”
“I have to go.”
“Not until you show me.” She was blocking the doorway, and she may have been a couple inches shorter, but she could hold her own.
I pointed it at the ceiling and demonstrated. “Okay?”
She finally stepped aside. “Turn the safety on,” she said to my back. “And call me if anything comes up. And I mean anything.”
The drive to Oswald Beach was surreal. Smoke gave the sky a pink cast, and flashes came from every direction. The air blowing through my window smelled like burning trees, salt, and wet pavement. At least the rain had stopped.
Haze subdued the lights of the gas station and the High Tide aka Bedbug Motel next door. The motel’s dull green sign still boasted VCRs and phones because the only amenities their guests cared about were sex, drugs, and a bed. Times must’ve been hard, though. They’d raised their weekly rate from $100 to $120.
I dialed Alex’s number and waited. The longer it rang, the more I wanted to reach through the phone and punch him.
“Alex—get down to the Shell station in Oswald Beach now,” I said to their old answering machine.
The parking lot was a graveyard, except for a couple arguing by a rusted pay phone. They were all furious arm movements and slurred insults. I could smell the alcohol on their breath before I even got near them.
There wasn’t any sign of Megan inside the gas station. Just someone stocking shelves in the back and the cashier, a young guy who watched the eleven o’clock news the way most guys watched football. Nothing else existed.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Yeah?” He kept his eyes on the TV. A picture of Amber flashed on the screen, and the announcer was talking in a too-chipper voice about evidence connecting her murder to the animal mutilations.
“There was a girl in here. Long blond hair, about—”
“You Nova?” He finally looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled faintly of skunk.
I nodded.
“She’s in the bathroom.” He nodded behind him. “In the back to your right.”
I made my way to a scratched-up blue door. The restroom sign was crooked, nearly ready to fall off.
“Megan?” I jiggled the loose knob. “It’s me.”
There was a clicking sound, the turn of the lock. But she didn’t say a word. Part of me was afraid of what I’d find on the other side.
I pushed the door open, scanning the dirty sink, the dizzying black-and-white tile. Megan was sitting on the floor, her back against a writing-covered wall, her face in her hands. Never forget 6403 was scrawled in red marker above her head.
“Hey…” I said.
She lowered her hands, revealing black makeup smudged around her eyes. Scratches and dirt covered her knees, as if she’d fallen on the pavement.
“What happened? What did they do?”
Meg
an wound a lock of hair around her finger, pulling tight. She didn’t look at me. She stared straight ahead, into nothing.
“We were out on the beach—there were just a few of us. Most people didn’t want to come out.” She spoke in a soft monotone. “Christian said he needed to talk to me…” She paused, but her lips remained parted.
I squatted down and reached for her hand. She jerked it away.
“Then what?” I wanted to ask her why the hell she’d go off alone with him, but I held my tongue.
“We went back to his car,” she said. “He even opened the door for me, like we were on a date or something.”
My heart started to pound. I didn’t want to hear the rest. I was this close to losing control and going after Christian myself.
“As soon as he got in, he…” Her nose scrunched up, and her hands formed tight balls. “He grabbed my arm and squeezed really hard.” She stroked a spot on her upper arm through her hoodie.
I closed my eyes for a second, remembering the sting of his jagged nails.
“He started saying all this stuff,” she continued. “That Alex is a killer, and we’re protecting him. He said someone saw Alex with Amber, on Beach Street, right before she went missing.”
“Who?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“Because it’s a lie,” I said, anger tightening my throat.
“I haven’t told anyone this,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “But the night she went missing…Alex sneaked out. He tried to be quiet, but I heard him.”
He could’ve been going anywhere. To see Jenika most likely. “Alex had nothing to do with what happened to Amber. You know that.”
She wove her fingers together, her gaze shifting to the floor.
“What happened next?” I asked.
“I got the door open and screamed as loud as I could. Zach was standing right outside.”
“Zach was there?” I couldn’t see his parents letting him out of the house.
She nodded. “He was a mess. So drunk he could barely stand.” She sniffed. “I tried to punch Christian, anything I could hit.” She touched the side of her head. “He got me right here.”
My heart was racing so fast it felt like a jackhammer.
“Then Gabi showed up, asked what was going on. And he let me go.” She rubbed her banged-up knees. “I ran so hard I fell.”
We could go to the police, but then what? We’d lied to homicide detectives. The proof was on Christian’s face, in that stupid video. All he had to do was tell them. They wouldn’t believe a word we said after that.
The bathroom door was shoved open. Alex glanced from me to Megan, his expression tensing. With his black hood pulled over his head and black cargo pants, he reminded me of a ninja.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, coming inside and squatting down next to me.
“Does she look okay?” I asked. “Where were you?”
“I went for a drive.”
“Hope we didn’t interrupt anything,” I said.
“You didn’t.” There was an edge to his voice, but then his gaze softened. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately…” I muttered.
Alex touched Megan’s arm. “What happened?”
“What do you care?” She jerked away from him. “I called and called and called…”
“Megan—” Alex began.
“Shut up!” she screamed, new tears forming in her eyes. “Just shut up!”
Alex got back on his feet slowly, but I froze in place. I’d never seen Megan like this. I was pretty sure I’d only seen her cry once…the day her grandpa died.
“She had another epic fit tonight,” Megan continued, her voice low and shaky. “Dumped all of Grandpa’s stuff out and cried and cried. She left it everywhere. The hallway, the living room. The kitchen counter.”
Alex knelt in front of her again, his forehead creased. “I told you to leave it next time,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“How? You’re never there!”
I swallowed back the urge to reach out to her, to tell her she could’ve called me. It sounded shallow after the fact, a way to ease my own conscience. I hadn’t been there for her either. What could I say?
Alex put his arm around her, trying to pull her close, but she shoved him away.
He hung his head, shutting his eyes. His back rose and fell without a sound. There was just Megan’s jagged breaths, the occasional drop of water hitting the sink.
“I’ll be outside,” I said, knowing they needed a moment. Or a few.
The air outside was still stale and as thick as chowder, but it was a lot less charged. I could take a full breath, let my eyes well up and wipe away the evidence. The phone rang in my pocket, making my body jerk.
“I’m okay, Mom,” I answered, pacing back and forth in front of the entrance.
“Alex stopped by about twenty minutes ago, looking for you. I told him Megan was in some kind of trouble and where you were.”
“He’s here. He’s talking to her.”
“Well, he can talk to her on the way back.”
I shut my eyes. “I’ll leave in a minute. Promise.”
“Is she okay? What happened?”
“Yeah, she’s…” An orange Audi pulled into the gas station. My heart about stopped. “She’s okay. We’re leaving now. I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
I was hoping they were just pulling up for gas, but Christian gunned the car into a parking space facing the motel. Their timing couldn’t be more perfect.
Alex came out the gas station doors with Megan in tow, his face like stone. As soon as he saw Christian’s Audi, he nudged Megan toward me. “Get her out of here.”
The light was on inside Christian’s car, but nobody was getting out.
I handed Megan my keys. “Go. Lock the doors,” I told her.
“I’m not—” she started to protest.
“Go!” Alex and I said in unison. She backed away, slowly.
I moved in front of Alex, blocking his path toward Christian’s car. “Don’t.” My eyes pleaded with him. For all we knew those detectives were watching us right now—or maybe I’d seen too many movies.
“He attacked her,” he said in a harsh whisper.
I put my hands on his chest, giving him a less-than-gentle shove. “They’re spreading rumors about you. They’re saying someone saw you with Amber on Beach right before she went missing.”
“That’s bullshit—I picked up Megan and went home.”
You didn’t stay home, I wanted to shout. But now wasn’t the time. “To the cops, it’s your word against theirs. And if you come at them right now, in public? Your word’s going to mean a lot less.”
Car doors opened and closed. Alex’s fingers curled into his palms. I pushed him harder this time, making him stumble back. “Walk away.”
Voices echoed across the parking lot. There was something raw and feral rising inside me, an ache in my chest that wouldn’t subside. I shoved him again, using my fists this time. “You want to help Megan? Then fucking be there for her.”
He caught my hands, his eyes wide, searching my face. His grip was shaky, clammy. “Okay.”
It was all he said. But it was enough. I’d reached whatever rationalism he had left.
We headed toward our cars, our steps fast and quiet on the wet pavement. Megan was standing outside, her face turned in the direction of Christian’s car. Because it would kill that girl to listen, just once.
“Hey!” a guy yelled. It wasn’t just a yell, though. It was ragged and broken. I knew it was Zach’s voice without even turning around.
Footsteps echoed across the parking lot, fast and uneven.
“Get in the car,” I told Megan, breaking into a jog. She finally listened.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Zach said, his voice closer.
Alex slowed, but I grabbed his arm, yanking him forward. He pulled away. “Get Megan home,” he said.
B
ut they were right up on us. Three of them. Zach looking all wrong, his eyes red and wild, his jaw slack. A beer bottle dangled from his left hand. It was just like Christian, getting his grieving best friend crazy drunk.
Christian and the guy with the bleached fro who came into the diner earlier were a few feet behind him.
“You call me a coward,” Zach said, his words slurred. “You’re the coward.”
Alex was still facing me, his back to them. His eyes flickered up to mine. “Go,” he mouthed.
I shook my head.
Zach reeled back and hurled his beer bottle at us. It grazed Alex’s arm and shattered around our feet, making my ears ring. We both froze for a few seconds, the air going completely still.
“Look at me, you psychotic fuck!” Zach’s voice cracked.
Alex turned and got right in his face, opening his arms wide. “I’m here. I’m looking at you. What do you want from me?”
Zach stared at him, his eyes watery slits. “Killer.”
It wasn’t the word itself that made me hold my breath; it was the way he said it, so sure of himself, so justified. The way it sat in my chest and clung to me.
The tendons in Alex’s hands strained against his skin. I was sure he was going to take a swing. Instead, he said, “The last time I saw your girlfriend, she was at that party. With you.”
Arms wrapped around me, squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe. “Do it,” Christian’s voice rang loud in my ear.
Alex took a step toward us, but the guy with the fro shoved him into Zach.
Christian’s lips pressed against my ear and his fingers probed at the sore spot beneath my rib cage. “How’s your tummy?”
The few fights I’d been in had left me sore for days, and I’d never been jumped by three people. Christian was the one holding me back for a reason.
I didn’t fight or squirm like he expected me to. I went limp, hoping it would distract him for a second. All I needed was a second.
It worked.
His arms loosened just enough for me throw my body forward and back. I slammed my elbow right into his gut, twice, and twisted out of his grasp. He lurched for me, clutching his stomach and wincing.
I pulled the Taser Mom gave me from my pocket, turned the safety off, and held it out toward him. He glared at me, his hand still on his stomach, teeth clenched.
