by Tara Brown
“Her type is boy.” Linds nudged me, laughing until she realized I wasn’t laughing too. I couldn’t laugh. My insides were in a knot and my eyes were stuck on Jake. The haunted look on his face was killing me. He laughed and smiled and joked with the guys in the far corner of the room, but he was broken. I saw the change in him as clear as I saw it in myself.
“It’s weird seeing you with a hipster, sort of like Rachel and hers.” Sage laughed.
“He doesn't wear the glasses to be cool. I suspect they’re what he wore when he was five, and he’s never changed the style. He doesn't do anything to be cool. He’s got indifferent mastered.” I sighed. “It’s like dating Lainey with self-esteem.” I didn't want to be compared to Rachel.
Lainey laughed. “Hey!”
“You know it’s true.”
She nodded, pushing up her glasses and sighing.
“So are you dating then?” Rita leaned in, also staring at him. We acted like a pack of vultures staring at the dying lamb.
“No. I don't think he dates. I don't think he sees me as anything but the daughter of a guy he works for.” I didn't completely believe my words. I knew he saw me as sort of unattainable, but I didn't want to be boastful just yet. I had to be sure.
We had naturally segregated to opposite sides of my games room, the boys laughing at each other as they played pool and the girls huddled around the snacks. Not one of us ate though. We didn’t laugh the way they did, but then again, they didn't laugh the way they used to either.
Before Andrew was a killer and Jake was tortured and Ashton went missing. Before Rachel died and Lainey’s house caught fire. Before Linds was stalked and Lainey was chased and hunted. Before I was taken.
Before.
“He likes you. He watches you constantly. It’s creepy in the same way Vincent is always watching you.” Lainey’s eyes darted to Linds.
“Vince just has a thing for big perky asses.” Lindsey blushed and glanced at Vincent who was indeed watching her the same way Finn was watching me. She and Vincent weren’t showy with their relationship, to spare Sage’s feelings, but it was true: his eyes never left her.
Sage winced, still sore about the Vincent and Lindsey thing.
“I want to see what you found in that basement.” I narrowed my gaze on Linds as I changed the subject to the one she hadn’t brought up at all. We had stood for an hour talking about boys and New York and Christmas break, trying to be who we used to be.
“Nothing. It was just an old notebook from one of the doctors with nothing but a bunch of notes about patients. Lucy W. is in there, but I don't think it's the right girl.” Linds wasn't lying. Her face was filled with regret and her voice wasn’t crazy high pitched.
“Who’s Lucy W?” Rita cocked an eyebrow.
“We thought it was Lucinda Wentworth,” Lainey whispered, leaning in and relaying the entirety of our evidence from the records room at Silver Hills.
“We still think it’s Lucinda,” I argued. “I still do.”
“Maybe not.” Linds shook her head.
“Oh great.” Sage swallowed hard. “Between what the moms told you and this freak not being Lucinda, we are back to the beginning.”
“Well, if it is Lucy W. there’s a chance she was framed,” I added.
“Not according to the notebook.” Lindsey’s eyes lowered. “The doctor who evaluated her said she was accused of murdering her friend and trying to murder a baby. But no one talking about Lucinda so far has said she murdered anyone other than the nurse. Which means either it’s someone else or there’s more to the story.”
The words hit me, reminding me of something. “No, they did say that. They did say there was a secret about a girl, her friend. Someone said it. The Hollinger family.” I closed my eyes and tried to recall where I’d heard the words. They hit me with a shiver. “Haussenger. That was the family of the baby she gave the bottle of bleach to. She was babysitting at their house with her friend and she killed her friend too. Rachel’s mom knew it. It’s the same girl. She is Lucy W. It was mentioned somewhere else too.”
“How did I miss that?” Lainey shook her head. “I don’t remember anyone saying she murdered her friend.”
“It’s been a rough couple months, Lain. You’re bound to miss some things.” Linds rubbed her back.
Sage’s eyes widened. “What if Lucinda really did this stuff? Murdered her friend? Sounds familiar only this time it’s our friend. Rachel is dead.”
“What if Lucinda didn’t do any of those things?” Lainey asked, giving me a side-glance. “That also sounds familiar.”
“Either way, we need to find out who the dead girl was. The notebook doesn’t say. The file from Silver Hills never mentioned it either. Did Mrs. Swanson say who she was?”
I shook my head. “No. Rachel’s mom just said she killed her friend.”
“Oh my God, we are never going to solve this. We need to go to the police.” Rita hugged herself. She being the only one with a solid alibi, of course that was her answer.
“You know we can’t. Seriously, stop bringing them into it,” Lindsey warned with her tone. “We still need to find that hipster Rachel was with. We need to figure out who made the dress that matched Sierra’s. We need to link Andrew to the killer. There’s no way he was a mastermind in this. He smokes way too much bud. I say we go see him for some of our answers because right now we know shit all.”
“We know Tom was a patsy. We know Rachel was a secret hipster photog who pissed someone off, which isn’t surprising at all. We know Andrew was one of the killers and there are others. One is a girl with dark hair. And for whatever reason they are screwing with us. Maybe because of Rachel. Maybe because of our parents. Maybe because they’re crazy. Whatever it is doesn't matter. We just need to figure out how to stop them.” I folded my arms.
“I still think we need to see someone who knows what they’re doing. This is serious. It’s not a game! The police could help us if we told them the whole thing!” Rita demanded.
“No.” My eyes flashed at her. “Of course you keep saying that. Only you have an alibi. Not to mention, you know Lucinda Wentworth, and you aren’t from here. So if you want to go to the police, go. But we won’t be coming, and we won’t be speaking to you after that moment.”
“And we won’t stop pointing out all the ways your family is linked to this,” Linds threatened but didn't say what she thought. I didn’t know how Rita’s family could be linked.
Whatever it was caused Rita to pale. “I don't want to go to the police—I just also don't want to die! I want help with this. We need to start asking for help.” Her lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. Ashton’s head turned, bringing with it the rest of the guys who had been playing pool in the corner but were now totally focused on our conversation. “I don't want to die for something I didn't do,” Rita shouted. “I don’t deserve this shit!” Those words created fury inside me.
“And you think we do? Like we did something to deserve this?” I ripped up my sleeves, flashing the new lumpy red scars. Then I pulled up my shirt, flashing my entire abdomen. The knife wounds and cigarette burns had faded a small amount but not enough to stop my friends from wincing and turning their heads.
Rita stammered, “I—I didn't mean that.” Her accent was full-on Jersey.
“What did you mean?”
“Just that I’m innocent. I know I am.” Her eyes scanned our faces. “I don’t know—”
“You don’t know about the rest of us?” I spat my words, moving closer to her.
Ashton hurried over, trying to step between us. “What the hell is going on here?”
“She went to Lucinda to beg for her life!” I’d started and there was no turning back. “She’s trying to save her own neck and frame us! She’s one of them!”
Lindsey’s eyes burned. “And her family is completely broke. Her father is bankrupt. They don't even own their house. They’re leasing it from Lainey’s dad. They had to let their entire staff go.”
Rita turned her head, her eyes no longer sad or remorseful. “You’ve been spying on me?”
“Duh, Rita. You were friends with Rachel first and then she died, and now you’re dating her boyfriend. You’re friends with Lucinda. You were new just as our lives went to hell. Your family is shifty as shit. And you keep wanting to go to the police, overlooking the fact the rest of us look guilty of killing Rachel.” I leaned in, staring down on her just slightly. “Just so you know, if I find out you are responsible for any of this, I will kill you.” A darkness and rage poured from me, and I knew, suddenly, I could do whatever I needed. I wasn’t scared. I was mad as hell.
“Screw you, Sierra!” She jumped, grabbing for my throat but Ashton grabbed her back, snatching her in midair.
My hands clawed at her face but Finn was there, getting between us. He scooped me up over his shoulder, turning and leaving the room as my arms flailed to reach her. The wild look on her face suggested she was struggling as hard as I was.
“I’ll kill you!” I screamed as the door swung shut. Finn didn’t stop there. He carried me down the hall, into the den, and closed that door too. He lowered me to the sofa. His hands wiping away tears told me I was crying.
“You have to calm down.” He held my hand tightly in his, squeezing.
My fingers trembled in his, but he squeezed so tightly the fury vibrated back into my whole body.
“Sierra.” His voice was soft, but he didn’t say my name with emotion. He didn’t say anything with emotion.
“What?” I couldn’t fight the rage bursting from me.
“You have to calm down,” he repeated.
“I’m calm.” The growl in my tone suggested otherwise but when I lifted my head to snarl at him about something else, his eyes met mine.
“No, you’re pissed. But you can’t start fighting against one another.”
“She isn’t one of us.”
“She is. And there’s a chance she might have been made to seem shifty so the rest of you would be diverted to focus on her.”
I parted my lips to argue but it made sense and his eyes were locked on mine. I gulped down my rage as it was replaced by whatever it was I felt when I was around him, besides confusion.
“Lainey has the right idea. Do a wall of the clues and go over them all, adding everyone’s bits and pieces. Fighting amongst yourselves is pointless.”
“I like you,” I blurted like an idiot, changing the subject to one I was more comfortable with.
“I like you too.”
“No.” Blush crept up my cheeks. “I like you like you.”
A soft smile found its way to his lips. “I also like you like you.” His smile became a grin but he didn’t move.
“So say we kissed sometime, that would be cool with you?” I couldn’t help myself. I knew sex and kissing and comfortable distractions.
“Of course. But right now you need to go back to your friends and work on a solution.” He got up, offering me his hand. “Now.”
I wanted to be upset that he didn’t kiss me or flirt with me but I couldn’t.
He liked me liked me.
No torture or torment or fighting could take that away from me.
Chapter Fourteen
The Orphanage
“I laid out three dresses on your bed. Pick one of them. And I’m sending Cindy up to do your hair and makeup at 4.” My mother poked her head into the bathroom, giving me her impatient stare. She wasn’t on my case much but when she was, she was downright annoying. “Don’t give me that look, Sierra. We have dinner tonight with everyone at the clubhouse. I expect you to be presentable so you can show them you’ve bounced back.” Her tone softened, “That you’re fine, because you are.”
I considered sighing, rolling my eyes, or flat out refusing, but an idea popped into my head. “Can I invite Finn?”
“Who?”
“Finn. The guy I’m sort of not really seeing but kinda—I don’t know. He’s a boy I know. Can he come?”
“Of course. The more the merrier. I’ll tell your dad we need four seats.” Blush crept up her cheeks as her eyes dazzled. “And where did you meet this mystery boy, Finn?” Her voice filled with song like she was from a Broadway musical.
“Silver Hills.” I said it to watch her jaw drop, which was exactly as fulfilling as I needed it to be.
“Sierra!”
“Relax, Mom. He’s someone Dad paid to be there so he could check up on me. He’s so sane he’s boring.”
“He works for us?” Distaste flowed from her lips.
“No. Oh my God.” I groaned. “Dad hires him to get into the tough places. He’s like a tech nerd. I don’t know. Does it really matter? Can we not have a commoner eat with us? Jesus.”
“Well, I guess so. I just thought maybe you and Vincent might want to—”
“He’s dating Lindsey. They’re in love. And I am over him.” I said it before I realized it was true. But it was. I hadn’t even glanced in his direction the night before. Finn had been there, and he was the only boy I’d noticed in that way.
Something was coming over me.
“Oh, I hadn’t realized he and Lindsey had started dating. I guess I thought maybe she was his escort because she was—err—well, covering her sexual preferences.” Her voice rose and cracked.
“She’s not actually gay. I know, shocking.” I rolled my eyes. “She and Vince have been seeing each other for a while. Since Rach—” I couldn’t say it out loud.
“Of course. Silly me. I must learn to pay better attention. I was in the city a lot—” She said it before she thought, her cheeks growing to a nice shade of flaming red.
“Can we stop this?” I tilted my head to the side.
“What?”
“This little dance where you pretend you haven’t been screwing Dad’s brother for like a decade and Dad isn’t screwing Sage’s mom like always? I hate it. I’d rather we were just us. I’m not fragile or broken or different. I’m still me. You’re still you. You love a man and Dad loves a woman, and you don’t love each other. And Vincent and Lindsey love each other, and he never loved me. And I’m finally over it.”
“After Christmas, Sierra.” She scowled and left me to the sanctuary of my deep soaker tub filled with piping hot water.
I didn’t feel guilty for chasing her off. I really wanted things to go back to normal.
But the bath was bliss when she left, and I didn’t have to think about the fact I would be at a party filled with people. Maybe some of them were the ones who had read my diary or watched me shit in that weird little tin toilet. Until I knew who had taken me prisoner, I had to suspect everyone.
I forced my thoughts to Finn as I wondered if he even owned a suit or a tux. Grabbing my phone, I sent him a quick message.
Come to dinner at the clubhouse tonight? It’s the annual weekend-after-Thanksgiving party. Black tie. Do you own one?
It took several moments of me biting my lip and contemplating him being bothered by the fact I had invited him out.
Of course. I’ll meet you at the door at 7:30.
No winky face. No smiley face. No emojis at all. Just of course? Who even says of course? What was wrong with a simple yup?
I didn’t know what to say back so I sent a K and left it at that.
He was the weirdest boy. I was lucky to even get his cell phone number out of him, meanwhile he was tracking my phone. He’d said something along the lines of “emergency use only” but needing a date for the party I’d been blocking out was sort of an emergency.
Especially since we’d discussed kissing. It changed everything. Maybe we would kiss tonight.
It was the best sort of anticipation, wondering about a guy who liked me before he’d even kissed me. I didn’t have to lure him into liking me with sex or other things. He liked me before all of that.
Butterflies danced in my stomach and I forgot about all the other terrible things in the world.
When I was out and dried off I hurried to my room
to see what my mom had laid out for me. The choices were last season’s which made me wrinkle my nose until I looked down at my wrists and hands. I reached for the already worn dresses. Befittingly, she had chosen dresses with long lacey sleeves. She and I both needed to cover up the ugliness that would lie just beneath the pretty design.
I wanted to sulk. I wanted to hate everything. But he stopped me. No. The possibility of him stopped me. I couldn’t be sad with Finn meeting me to be my date and us being so close to kissing.
I didn’t care about the rest of it, the sex or the other stuff. I just wanted a kiss. One magical kiss.
Getting my makeup and hair done by Cindy wasn't quite what it used to be, and I wasn't exactly my old self. She teased and styled, and I winced and watched her hands and eyes suspiciously. I didn't offer ideas or laugh with her. She kept her head down, obviously aware of my discomfort, but her eyes darted to the scars on my hands and wrists a few times.
Finally, annoyed with her and me, I lifted one into the air for her to inspect. “Can’t be easy to see them when you’re pretending you aren’t looking.”
“I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard, pausing and dropping her lower lip open to defend herself but nothing else came out. Tears filled her eyes and she did the thing I imagined everyone wanted to do, deep down. She jumped me, smothering me with hugs and kisses as she sobbed into my freshly styled hair.
I patted her on the back, consoling her. I couldn't believe how many times I’d had to console other people for my wounds and my trauma.
Shuddering and sniffling, she pulled back. “Sorry, Sierra. I just—just couldn't believe it when your mom told me what they did to you.” Her dark-brown eyes twitched. “When I heard you were in there for hurting yourself I knew it was a lie, but I never imagined it was something so much worse.” Her hands shook as she wiped away the tears.
I plucked her a tissue from my makeup table and passed it over. “I know. It’s unbelievable.” I wasn't emotional about it like she was. I was scared, but I sure as shit wasn't going to cry about it. And no one else would make me cry. The fight with Rita proved to me I wasn't the little pansy the dark-haired girl had tried to make me. My crazy was still going on.
