Six people we know about.
How could I have missed this?
I look down at Allie, feeling my eyes water. We got lucky tonight, so damn lucky it’s hard to breathe.
For a moment, a split second, I truly believed I was going to lose her. When he came at me with that knife, all I could think about was him going after her next, suffering through his drivel and delusions. I pictured her stabbed, no longer a part of this world, and the thought alone is enough to send me crazy. It would tear out my heart. The world would be a darker place without her in it.
“Mr. Everhert, we need to get her into her own bed. You need to rest, to recover,” Nurse Louise says, looking softly down at Allie. They’ve tried to move her since I was placed in this bed, but she’s thrown a fit every single time, so to keep her calm, they let her stay—against their wishes. It feels like we’ve been here longer than an hour.
She’s tucked into my side, fast asleep. She hasn’t stopped clinging to me since it ended, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need her next to me as much as she needs me next to her.
“She’s not going anywhere.”
She sighs. “The police would like to speak with you.”
My heart sinks. “Because I killed him?”
She looks away, messing with the machines they’ve got me hooked up to. “I couldn’t say.”
I took a life. He might not have been innocent, but he was still a human being. And the sick part? I’d do it all over again to save Allie.
“Where’s my son?” I hear my mum scream from down the corridor.
I sit up, glancing at Louise. “That’s my mum. Can you tell her where I am?”
She looks up from my charts and nods. Seconds later, my mum comes running into the room, tears streaming down her face.
“Oh, my god, what happened to you?” she cries, eyes round. “They said you were taken and that you suffered knife injuries.” She begins to sob, looking me over and wincing at my injuries. She looks down at my right, to Allie tucked into my side, and sniffles, wiping her nose. “Is she okay? What happened? I thought I lost you, CJ. I tried to get here as soon as I could, but I had to get a taxi. I wouldn’t have been able to drive back from London without crashing.”
“Mum, I’m fine,” I croak out, squeezing her hand. I watch her for a minute, wondering how much they told her. “Did they tell you anything else?” I ask carefully.
“They told me you were taken by the maniac who was killing those poor innocent girls, and that her friend called them,” she tells me, her eyes flicking to Allie.
Allie stirs in my arms, but she doesn’t wake, too exhausted from today’s events. I look back up at my mum, the person who has been my rock my whole life, and fill her in on everything, needing her to be strong once more. I tell her about Alex, about his fucked-up family and the delusions he had that Allie was his, that she was his sister. How he related a sibling to a lover.
Mum gasps, her hand covering her mouth. Her other hand hovers over my stab wound that the doctors stitched up not long after we arrived. “And he did this to you? Have they arrested him?”
I look away, unable to meet her eyes. “I killed him,” I whisper.
Her hand twitches in mine. “What?”
I look at her, feeling my eyes water, and my throat clogs with emotion. “I killed him. He was going to kill her, Mum. I stabbed him in the back, where his heart is, and I killed him. I killed him,” I grit out, feeling frustrated and angry. Frustrated because I felt so useless, felt useless and angry because I should have done something to prevent the whole thing. I should have watched my back in the library, worked harder to find him—something.
“Oh, my darling boy,” Mum cries, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. Her lips lightly touch my skin, but I flinch, the sting too much even with all the pain meds they’re feeding me.
“I killed him. I don’t know how I’m going to come back from that, Mum.”
I watch my mum transform from a crying mess to the mum I’m used to. She wipes her eyes, straightens her spine, and looks me dead in the eye.
“You will get back from this because you had no choice. He killed six girls, CJ. Do you think he wouldn’t have killed you? Look at you; he tried to. He killed that girl in front of you. You did what you had to do to survive. And you have your friends and family around you—to support you and show you every day that what you did was the only option. And every time you look at Allie, you’ll be reminded of what you saved—who you saved. That, my boy, is how you’re going to get through this.”
“I thought we were going to die, Mum. I kept thinking he’d kill me first, so I wouldn’t be able to help her. She would have been all alone, Mum. How did social services or his nan’s doctors not pick up on who he was, what he had inside him?”
“Maybe we can answer those questions?” a man standing at the door announces.
I watch as two uniformed police officers walk inside. I look away when Allie begins to stir, whimpering in her sleep.
“Please don’t hurt him,” she cries, tossing and turning. I wince from the pain, and slowly, with my bad arm, lightly stroke her cheek.
“Allie, Cupcake, you need to wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
When her whimpering sounds painful, I shake her awake. She flinches, shooting up in bed. “Kill me, not him!” she screams.
My mum rushes around the bed, coming to her side. “Allie, it’s okay. We’re here.”
“Cupcake, breathe,” I instruct, wishing I could move my stiff body to hold her against me.
She looks around the room, disorientated. “We’re in the hospital?”
Mum rubs her hand down her back. “You are. Do you remember what happened?”
My mum looks at Allie, and whatever she sees on her face… it fills her eyes with tears. “I remember everything.”
“Everything will be okay, Allie. Your dad is on his way, and Willow, Cole, and the rest of them are in the waiting room. You aren’t alone.”
Allie nods and mum helps her lie back down. I wrap my good arm around her, pulling her against me and gritting through the pain. “I’m here; I’ve got you,” I tell her. She nods absently, resting her head on my shoulder.
I look at the men in the room. “Can we help you?”
“We’ve just come to inform you no charges will be pressed against you, Mr. Everhert” he tells me gently, talking to me like I’m ten years old. I sag against the bed in relief. I don’t regret killing him, but the thought of going to prison scared me.
I’m too fucking pretty.
“Do you know how he got away with this for so long? Allie told me about the state of his house and the condition his nan was in. His past was muddled with files after files—they were there for you to access. Why didn’t you know it was him?”
If I’m remembering correctly, the man talking in front of me is Grady.
Guilt flashes across his face. “Name changing. There were so many surnames used it got lost in transaction. Alex changed his name—illegally—to Alex Cliff, his nan’s maiden name. He was born Adam Forest, his mum was born Lane, and his uncle—or dad—was born Pearson. All of them changed their names more than once over the course of their lives.”
“But how did no one pick up that he was a murderer, that he was messed up? After his mum killed his dad—I mean, step-dad—they should have made a case for him. He should have been seen.”
“He was,” Grady reveals, taking me aback.
“What?”
He looks to Allie, still in my arms. I look down at her, worried for her mental health. She still seems in shock—out of it.
“Are you sure you want me to discuss this now?”
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to clench my hands into fists. “I think we have the right to know. He nearly killed us. He killed innocent girls. I think we deserve to know why nothing was done to prevent this, why he was left in the hands of someone incapable of caring for him.”
“Now we know his real name, we
’ve looked into it. His first diagnosis was when he was six. They diagnosed him with BPD—borderline personality disorder. It’s a long-term pattern of abnormal behaviour, which was picked up and reported by the school he attended. He was never treated for it. In their reports, they stated Adam—I mean, Alex—couldn’t, or wouldn’t, form relationships with anyone in the school. The doctor who diagnosed him never followed up, but we’re still questioning the parties involved.”
“That’s it?” I ask dryly, clearing my sore throat.
“No.” He sighs, looking reluctant to answer. “When he was ten, after his parent’s death, he was referred to a child psychologist by his social worker. That doctor also diagnosed him with BPD and noted he had sociopathic tendencies. We’ve yet to speak with her, but from her notes left in the social worker’s case, he had crescent moon-shaped scars on his palms, was caught stabbing himself in the leg—whilst smiling—and had zero social skills. At ten years old he had already mastered the ability to manipulate those around him. He was removed from three children’s home before they found his nan. There were incidents where other children were hurt, and his behaviour came up as odd and unusual.”
“And none of them kept an eye on him after he went to live with his nan?” Allie asks. I hold her a little tighter, not realising she had been listening.
“He was twelve by the time he got put into the custody of Jessica Cliff. We had her down as a Jessica Lane. They both changed their names and disappeared altogether.”
My mum clears her throat. “If he had stayed, received the medical care he needed, would this have turned out differently, would he have?”
Grady looks at my mum, shaking his head. “Professionally speaking, I can’t say. It’s hard to tell with cases like this. But in my personal opinion, I’d say no. I don’t think anything would have changed when it came to him. He was diagnosed with BPD at a young age, that and the childhood trauma he was subjected to, the beliefs he had drilled into him… it was always going to be there for him. Sooner or later, he would have snapped.”
“So why now? What made him snap now?” Allie asks.
Grady looks to me. “I think you. We found a diary in the house dating from last Halloween. Alex had mentioned Christie, the humiliation she inflicted on him that night and how he felt you mocked him. And from photos I saw in the house, I think Allie reminded him of his mother. That combined, I think he felt something was being taken away from him.”
“She drugged him on Halloween, and Christie and her friends made fun of him. Is that why he killed her?” Allie says quietly.
“A lot of anger was written in that section, Allie. We still aren’t sure why that night snapped something inside of him, but if I have to guess, from what I already know, I would say he felt vulnerable and bullied. He’s not used to feeling emotion, and it brought out anger. We do know from an earlier entry that he found out who CJ was to him. He mentions overhearing you two talking about it.”
“He knew who I was all along, then?”
Grady nods. “Yes.”
“So, what now? Will you be arresting CJ? Because I hit him, too. I hit him over the head with a stool.”
Grady steps forward, squeezing her foot. “Allie, calm down. We aren’t arresting CJ. We still have a lot of investigating to do, but from CJ’s statement, it’s clear it was self-defence.”
“You aren’t going to take him away from me?” she asks, a sigh of relief escaping her. “He saved me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Cupcake,” I whisper, kissing her forehead.
“We’ll leave you to get some rest. A uniformed police officer will be by in the morning to get your statements. We just wanted to stop by and keep you updated.”
I nod, watching them leave, and glance down at Allie.
Being arrested hadn’t even crossed my mind. I’ve been too worried about Allie and facing the fact I took a life to even think about it.
But knowing I won’t be held accountable is a huge relief. Because looking down at Allie, I can’t picture my life without her.
*** *** ***
It’s just after midnight and Allie and I have been put into our own room, thanks to my mum. She wanted to give us privacy, since the doctors admitted the both of us to stay overnight.
Mum walks in with two cups of coffee. She hands Allie one, and I pout. “Where’s mine?”
She leans over and kisses my forehead. “None for you. They told you to drink water and to eat something.”
“I’m allowed food?” I ask, my mood brightening.
Allie laughs, shaking her head. “The doctor said it’s fine, as long as you don’t overeat.”
I scoff. “I don’t overeat.”
“You do,” Allie and Mum say simultaneously.
“Anyway, your dad is waiting for me outside. We’re going to stay next door—in the hotel. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. Can you bring me something to eat in the morning? The food is crap here.”
Mum nods. “I will. I promise. They have a McDonald’s down the road, and a Greggs. Oh, and your friends are going to come in. They can’t stay long, but under the circumstances, the nurse has agreed to let them in.”
We both nod and say our goodbyes. It’s not long before we hear feet stomping outside the room.
“Do you think they’ll hate me?” I ask before they reach the door. “I’m part of the reason those girls were killed.”
Allie moves, looking up at me. “I’ve blamed myself for so much, for so long, CJ. But it hasn’t been until tonight that I realise we don’t control the actions of others. We can factor in it, but we don’t cause it. We aren’t the ripple effect that sets something into motion. We didn’t do anything to set Alex off. We didn’t bully him, we didn’t hurt him, and we certainly didn’t raise him to be this person. All we did was be his friend.”
I look down at her in awe. “When did you start making sense?”
She forces a smile, looking away. “From the moment I realised I’d never be able to live in a world you aren’t in.”
I lean in and capture her lips with a kiss.
The door pushes open and we pull away, taking in our friends stricken faces. Jordan is the first to enter the room, her face bright red and blotchy.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I butt answered your call and didn’t realise until twenty minutes into it that something was wrong. I called the police straight away when I heard what Alex was saying. I’m so fucking sorry,” she cries.
Allie sits up, pressing the button to our bed to sit us up higher. “You saved our lives, Jordan. Thank you.”
Jordan looks stunned as she pauses at the end of the bed. The others file into the room, Willow, Rosie and Becca heading Allie’s side and Cole to mine.
“What?”
“If you hadn’t of phoned them, things might have turned out differently. The door in the room we were in was locked. And you gave me hope. I knew the phone call had connected; I knew you would be listening and get help. You saved us.”
Jordan wipes under her eyes and Rosie wraps her arm around her waist, comforting her.
“How are you doing?” Cole asks, his eyes not focusing on one thing, but scanning everywhere. I know I look a mess. I have a bandage on my shoulder from my stab wound, and my face looks like Edward Scissorhands attacked it.
“A little banged up, but I’ll get some cool scars after,” I tell him lightly.
He tries to force a smile, but I can see my friend is worried and concerned for me. “Yeah, but Allie’s immune to your ways, so you can’t charm her with stories on how you got them,” he teases, his jaw tensing.
My chuckle turns into a wince when it jars my shoulder. “She’ll listen anyway, ‘cause she loves me.”
“I do,” she whispers.
“Are you okay? How did you figure out it was Alex?” Willow asks.
I’ve been asking myself that same question. She’s told me bits, but I think because she was in so much shock, she muddled everything up. Sh
e seems to be doing a lot better now, though, more with it.
“Tina called me from the library to say Alex had walked out of work. I went to check on him because I was worried something had happened to his nan. When I got there, I had to get his nan some tablets. I found a box of the ones the doctor mentioned caused my miscarriage. Then there were the photos; they were the same as the ones me and Jordan found when we were researching the murders and learned about the murder that happened fifteen years ago. That’s when it all got too much for me and I went outside to get some fresh air and saw the building at the bottom of the garden. From there, it’s all a blur.”
“I was so worried. Jordan had stolen her sister’s phone to call the police, and because she had to stay on the line with both of you, she ran all the way to ours. I was so scared for you. We heard everything—what he did. I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Willow says, wiping her cheeks.
Allie stiffens next me. “It still doesn’t feel real. I trusted him. He took so much from so many people, and for nothing.”
Willow leans over to hug her. “Ah, where’s mine. I’m the one who got stabbed.”
When Willow looks up from hugging Allie, her eyes are filled with tears. “Thank you for being there for her.”
I rear back, puzzled. “Um, kind of didn’t have a choice. He hit me over the back of the head,” I tell her dryly.
She chuckles, wiping her eyes. “But you saved her. We might not have been there in person, but we heard you. He attacked her.”
She has no idea.
I look down at Allie, my lips pulling into the first real smile since everything happened. “She’s the one who saved me,” I whisper.
A new nurse walks in with her cart, not looking up from whatever she’s reading on it. “Charles-Jay, it’s time for your next dose of pain medication.”
Everyone in the room stops what they’re doing. Even the waterworks and sniffles come to an end.
I groan inwardly, wishing they would sedate me so I don’t have to subject myself to what is to come.
Game Over (Whithall University Book 2) Page 28
