Pernicious Red (When The Wicked Play Book 1)

Home > Other > Pernicious Red (When The Wicked Play Book 1) > Page 4
Pernicious Red (When The Wicked Play Book 1) Page 4

by Natalie Bennett


  Bracing my free hand against the cold door panel, I exhaled a breath. I didn’t understand why this was happening.

  Was it because of what I’d done? Guilt lashed at my chest and made me struggle to pull air into my lungs. I never meant to kill her; at least, that’s what I told myself. It happened years ago, though, and my mother was a shitty human being.

  There was no one in our lives back then who gave a damn, and that made this even harder to wrap my head around.

  Not daring to provoke my unknown caller, I slowly pulled open the door of the truck, quickly searching inside the cab for anything that stood out.

  Not spotting anything and knowing my time was sixty seconds to running out, I hurriedly climbed inside.

  Numb fingers pulled down the leather visor, sending another rose and an index card straight onto my lap. I flipped it over just as my phone began to ring.

  “Why did you kill her?”

  A low resounding chuckle had my fingers curling into fists.

  “She served her only purpose and she knew too much. And be honest with yourself, you never really liked her anyway; you just needed a roommate.”

  How did they know any of that when Joyce had been none the wiser? The only other person I could think of who knew the truth was Alice, and she would never do this. Would she?

  Don’t let them fuck with your head, I scolded myself. Alice was my best-friend.

  Not to mention that I’d been with her from ten-o-clock on.

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “I’m doing this for you.”

  Grinding my teeth in frustration, I scrubbed a hand over my face. They were intent on making me figure this out for myself.

  “When we hang up, you’re going to take the battery out of your phone and toss it out the window.” They paused as if to make sure I was listening. “Open the bag and put the cloak on. There’s a burner in the glove compartment. When you get where you need to go, take it out, turn it on, and then go inside. I’ll give you an hour to make it in and out. ”

  The phone beeped twice and then vibrated to let me know the battery had fallen below fifteen percent. I looked back down at the index card and gnawed my lower lip.

  It didn’t say anything but Warehouse 57. I’d never been there but I knew it was a decent drive away. It was also rumored to be haunted by one of the employees who was killed by an ex girlfriend inside the building.

  I didn’t believe in ghosts, but that didn’t make it any less creepy or condemned. Before I removed the battery from my phone, I attempted to call Alice twice and got no answer. It wasn’t like her not to answer my calls or texts within a thirty-minute window.

  As I waited to see if she would call back, I dialed Destiny’s number. There was no way in hell I could go in for my shift. Her cell went straight to voicemail, mounting my frustration.

  “Shit!” Hitting the steering wheel, I sat for another few seconds trying to grasp onto some kind of level-headed clarity. Going to the police was out of the question and even if I had an abundance of friends to call, I couldn’t drag them into this. I had to accept the fact that I was on my own.

  The key I’d removed from Jocelyn’s neck started the truck with ease. Warm air streamed through the air vents, confirming what I’d already known. Whoever switched my car with this one had done so recently.

  Without hesitation, I unzipped the bag and pulled it open.

  I found myself staring down at a soft red cloak and started to see where my unknown caller was going with this sick game of theirs.

  After one last glance around the empty parking lot, I dismantled my phone and tossed it out of the window.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rosalie

  It looked exactly like the kind of building people knew to stay away from.

  Thrumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I inspected the rusty old warehouse with a critical eye. It was essentially located in the middle of nowhere.

  The ridiculously old-school burner phone had remained silent on the seat beside me. I cinched the long cloak around my shoulders in an effort to make up for my lack winter layers. “Now or never,” I muttered, grabbing the cellphone and pushing the door open. All the warmth was sucked out of the truck’s cabin as cold air rushed in.

  With chattering teeth, I hopped out and cautiously approached the warehouse’s entrance, glancing over my shoulder as I went.

  The main road seemed so far away. Nothing but towering trees with naked, spindly limbs surrounded me.

  Pressing an ear to the metal door, I was met with nothing but more silence. God, my emotions were jacked. Go in. Don’t go in. Run like hell. Go to the police and pray no one else gets killed.

  Clenching and unclenching my fingers, I took a deep breath and pulled the door open, cringing at the loud squeaking noise casting echoes. Only partially open, it snagged on something. What sounded like a chain rattled from overhead.

  “Ugh.” Gritting my teeth, I grabbed hold of the door with both hands and yanked it wide enough so I could slip inside.

  The door slammed shut behind me and a loud clanging noise resounded through the air, followed by what sounded like a pig squealing in pain.

  After a mini heart-attack ensued, I stretched my arms out and felt along the wall. Where the hell was the light switch?

  When I attempted to push the door back open to try and let some kind of light in, it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard I shoved against it.

  Scooting to the right, I finally skimmed over what felt like a button and hit it. Dismal overhead lights clicked on in a quick procession, casting a fuzzy glow.

  I was able to pinpoint that the sound was coming from the center of the room; looking back up at the ceiling, I spotted what indeed was a thick chain. It seemed to be on some kind of pulley system.

  One end was responsible for holding the door shut, and the other stretched through thick beams on the vaulted ceiling, going downward.

  I had to have triggered it when I forced my way inside. My view was obstructed by large, dusty crates. I began weaving around them, rushing towards the squealing which had started sounding choked.

  “Shit,” I gasped, rounding the last container. There wasn’t time to stop and process what I was seeing; I broke into a run and charged towards the girl in the center of the room.

  The chain was wound around her neck, steadily lifting her body off the concrete ground. Her red hair was a wild mass around her face, but it was obvious her air flow was slowly being restricted.

  “I’m going to get you down,” I stupidly assured her.

  Grabbing the chain where I could reach, I ignored her nudity and started trying to counter the tram-like system reeling her in like a fish on a hook.

  The grainy, cold metal viciously rubbed against my raw flesh, making me hiss in pain and let go. I tried once more, jumping up and trying to use my weight as an anchor just to fail again.

  “Damn it!”

  Shock coursed through my feet as they landed unceremoniously on the stone floor below. Realizing I couldn’t get her down, the girl began to panic, swiping out with one hand in an attempt to grab hold of my hair, yelling behind the cloth covering her mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” I stressed, searching for the contraption controlling the noose around her neck. Her brown eyes widened as she rose higher off the ground.

  I raced around the building, falling over random junk and dodging more crates. When she was lifted above even those, I knew it was over.

  The chain was like a python winding around its victim, crushing bone and stopping all circulation.

  Her pale body seemed to dance as it was suspended high above the ground, limbs twitching to a funky rhythm with the last remnants of life.

  I’d never seen this girl before. I didn’t know her from a hole in the wall, yet her death still felt like it was my fault.

  She swung back and forth, and the kind of silence only death could cause permeated the air. Strands of wild hair hung like a curtain in front
of her lopsided head.

  I’m not sure how long I stood frozen in place. Without warning, the tow-chain slackened and sent her plummeting back down to the floor. My eyes shut in a reflexive action at the sound of flesh and bone meeting concrete echoing around me.

  I didn’t know what the hell was happening, and the phone tucked in my pocket had yet to go off.

  I felt helpless and sick. Three girls were dead and I had no clue as to why, or what it had to do with me.

  Why was I sent here?

  I never had a real chance of saving this girl, not when the tram was specifically rigged for me to fail.

  I scrambled to pull the phone from my back pocket as soon as it started to vibrate. Instead of a call this time, I had one simple text message.

  Wolf: I’d run now if I were you. Cops are against the rules.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  I sent back a question mark but after eight minutes I had yet to receive a response.

  A car door slamming drew my attention to the front of the building. Though I couldn’t see the door over the square blocks, masculine voices broke the silence.

  The static of a cop radio sent my anxiety through the roof.

  What did I do? Was there another way out? Now that the chain was slack there was nothing preventing them from opening the door. Even with the no cop rule, I couldn’t even begin trying to explain this.

  Running out from the nook I had trapped myself in, I skirted around the mangled corpse lying at an obtuse angle. I couldn’t avoid seeing the blood pooling around protruding bones and the way her neck was stuck in an unnatural position, still ensnared in the chain’s noose.

  The police announced their presence and asked if anyone was inside; the truck out front was a dead-giveaway that there was.

  Fuck.

  Just as the tell-tale squeak shot through the air, signaling the opening of the door, I darted around another crate and spotted a back entrance.

  In my haste to get away, I collided with a rusty shovel and sent it to the ground with a shuddering echo. My heart catapulted into my throat as I slipped back outside.

  I didn’t pause and listen, didn’t glance around at my surroundings—I just ran. The bitter cold wasted no time in reminding me it was there, filtering in and out of my mouth as I pumped my arms to propel myself faster. Strands of red hair whipped across my face, blowing this way and that.

  Avoiding the woods like it would infect me with the plague, I dangerously stuck to the edge, zigzagging around fallen branches left in my path. I didn’t stop running until the fire in my chest threatened to disintegrate my lungs.

  With hands on my trembling knees, I keeled over and fought to regulate my breathing. Cool sweat dripped down my back beneath my cloak and clothing.

  When I was close to being back to normal, I forced myself onward, pulling the hood up on my garment to shield my face from falling snow.

  Once more I asked myself who would do this, and the finger pointed to Channing.

  Too many things lined up against him. The nickname, the caller’s full knowledge about me, and the way he cornered me in the bathroom.

  But why would he do this? And why set me up?

  I wished I could sit down and think.

  I just needed to think.

  With nowhere else in my head to go, and now that I was forced to hoof it, I began the trek to the place that had once been my home, my grandmother’s house.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rosalie

  I recognized the blue sports car immediately.

  Having walked for the last two and a half hours, I moved at a snail’s pace to my grandmother’s back door. Tears of exhaustion gathered in the corners of my eyes.

  Clambering up the back porch stairs, relief swarmed through me when the back door handle pushed down without resistance. It was short lived.

  Channing’s voice reached my ears at the same moment I spotted the large vase of black roses on my grandmother’s kitchen table.

  “Grandma Rosetta?” Cringing at the sound of my brittle voice, I struggled to get the stupid fucking cloak off as I stormed through the kitchen.

  The fact that I was now warm barely even fazed me. I bypassed all the ageless antique furniture my grandmother had and stopped in the living room doorway, taking in the sight of Channing on the sofa with an orange soda in his hand, leaning back comfortably.

  I wasn’t at all surprised to see he had something to do with this, but it did surprise me that they were carrying on a conversation.

  My grandma Rose had her wheelchair angled slightly away from him but didn’t seem to be in any kind of distress, which was alarming to me because she never talked to anyone. She didn’t like strangers.

  Her face lit up when she glanced over her shoulder and saw me, a genuine smile replacing the constant frown she seemed to sport. “You didn’t tell me you were coming by today!” She turned her chair around to face me full on and held her arms out for a hug.

  I shot Channing a withering glare and went to embrace her. The smell of lavender filled my nostrils. It was the smell of the shampoo she’d been using since I was a little girl.

  It gave me the smallest bit of comfort and hardened my resolve to do whatever the hell this asshole wanted. I had a father somewhere, but God only knew who he was, and my mother was where she deserved to be. My grandmother was the only family I had and I’d raise hell before I let anything happen to her.

  “Sorry Grandma, my phone died on the way here.” The lie rolled off my tongue with ease. I looked to Channing, hoping he’d keep his mouth shut and go with it.

  “Oh, well, you’re here now and you can explain why you felt the need to hide you were dating one of the Burrows boys. And a cute one at that.” She gave me a not-so-discreet wink and slyly grinned.

  I choked on my spit, covering it with a cough.

  If I had known it only took an attractive man to crack open her shell, I would have brought someone much saner.

  Channing gave me a bold smile, flashing his perfect white teeth without a hint of shame.

  “I told your grandma you wanted to surprise her, to wait for us to be more ‘official’. But you know how I am, Red. I live by my own rules.”

  His blue eyes locked with mine, and I clenched my jaw to remain calm. My small bit of comfort vanished into thin air. I was a kettle ready to blow.

  Did he just give himself up with a smile on his face? Then again, what did he have to worry about? He was mere inches away from my grandmother, for Christ’s sake!

  “I swear I was going to tell you, Grandma. Actually, that’s why I wanted to stop by before work. Channing didn’t tell me he was going to be here.”

  I made sure to force some pep into my tone but not enough that she would be suspicious.

  My Grandma Rose may have been in a wheelchair, but she was far from stupid.

  “You know it’s about time you started dating. I’ve been waiting on this day since you graduated.” She looked back to Channing as if now addressing him.

  “And you better treat her right. Just because I’m in this chair doesn’t mean I’m useless,” she warned in a stern voice, meaning every word.

  It made me want to shred him apart ten times more. I didn’t know why she was such a hopeless romantic. Sometimes she would go on and on about a man she loved and mourned, but she never told me anything personal about him.

  “Hey, I don’t mean to rush but I have to work soon and Alice’s car needs a jump. The cold killed her battery.”

  My heart panged as her face fell. She tried to cover her disappointment but wasn’t fast enough. I knew she was lonely—I’d been a shitty granddaughter the past month or so, but that couldn’t be helped right then.

  Channing raised his brows at me but stood up nonetheless. My entire body tensed when he approached her chair and bent down.

  “We’ll see you soon.” He kissed her pink cheek and she ate the attention up, beaming at him in return.

  “I love you, Grandma,�
� I knelt down and hugged her, shutting my eyes to ward off tears. What if I didn’t see her again?

  “You hold onto him. He’s a good one, I can tell,” she whispered in my ear before letting go.

  It felt like my face would shatter from how hard I smiled. Good one my ass; psychotic was more on target. And I was leaving with him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Channing

  I wandered into the kitchen and picked up the discarded cloak, smirking to myself at the irony it held.

  Using the few spare seconds I had, I pulled my phone out and called my brother.

  “Hey, what’s up?” He answered sounding out of breath but in all around good spirits.

  “I’m getting ready to head to the hotel; do you have the next girl?” Keeping my voice low, I listened to his response in one ear and for Red in the other.

  “Yep, got Alice, too; she bit me good.” The pride in his voice was expected. My brother wasn’t called Madd for the fuck of it.

  “You sure you don’t wanna head out tonight?” he asked.

  “I’m sure. The snow’s gonna come down heavy and the drive’s to long. We can leave in the early morning.” I paused at the sound of footsteps. “Gotta go, see ya soon.”

  Hanging up the phone, I grinned at Red as she walked into the kitchen giving me the sexiest death stare I’d ever seen. If her grandma wasn’t in the next room, I would have fucked her on the counter.

  Even tired with wind-blown hair, she was gorgeous. The copper locks framing her face gave the illusion of a pissed off lion.

  And she was mine.

  She walked right past me and straight out the back door. Her brave front was admirable but I could see the slight tremors in her hands. I followed after her, making sure the door was unlocked behind me.

  “Why are you doing this?” she whirled around and asked at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I have to,” I shrugged, grabbing her lower wrists and forcing her to walk with me.

  “What the hell does that mean? You’re killing people because you have to?”

 

‹ Prev