Chapter Twenty-One Evie
Chapter Twenty-One
Evie
I barely get my car into park and my keys out of the ignition before my sister comes bounding from her house, but I’m doing the same, bursting from my car and meeting her in the middle of the pathway.
Our arms instantly wrap around the other, tears already staining each other’s shoulders as we hug fiercely.
She pulls back, the palms of her hands wiping my cheeks as she keeps repeating, “Are you okay? Are you okay?”
I nod because I know she’s wondering if I’m hurt, and I am; she just doesn’t know how yet.
“Baby,” Noah whispers, looking around. “Inside the house.” He ushers us in, but I point to my car.
“There’s a bag in the back . . .”
Noah doesn’t hesitate as Evie and I rush inside the house. I’m through the door as I ask, “What did the police say?”
She frowns, immediately letting me go before walking to the fridge and grabbing me a bottle of water. “Here, drink this.”
“I’m fine. I want to know what the police said. Do they know who sent the link? Can they locate him? Do they have a lead on Remus?”
All my questions are laid bare in front of her as I stare unblinking, waiting for answers.
Noah walks back inside as she lets out a breath. “The link—”
I draw my head back, confused. “What about it?”
“We called and spoke to a detective, but when we tried to send the video of . . .” She chokes up, and I have to look away. So I take the bottle from her hand to give me something to focus on, or I’ll scream again.
She sniffles, pulling herself together, and I blink, listening to the plastic ring around the cap pop while trying to ignore the visions of Chase’s body being dragged, bloody and beaten, playing in my mind.
Noah runs his hand down her shoulder, finishing her sentence. “We couldn’t send the video . . . The link doesn’t work anymore.”
I shake my head, pulling out my phone and swiping straight to my messages before, with a tremble, hitting the link. But they’re right, it doesn’t work.
“What the fuck,” I shout, turning toward the kitchen island because I feel like I’m going to break. “But what about Remus . . . They have to look for him.”
Nobody answers me, so I turn back, locking eyes with my sister.
“Did you tell them about Remus?”
She’s staring back at me, searching my eyes before her lips part and she says, “No.”
My chest caves with the exhale I let out. “I don’t understand . . . Why wouldn’t you tell them? Goldie . . .” She looks at Noah, and I feel irate, so I yell her name again. “Goldie.”
Her head whips back to me, her voice almost as loud as mine. “Because he was just the camp counselor, Evie . . . and I saw him die. With my own eyes.” She stabs her finger at the floor. “I stood in front of him and watched him bleed to death.”
“Goldie . . .” Noah whispers, trying to comfort her, reaching for her hand, but she pulls it away.
“No, Noah. Chase is out there. Someone has him, and she’s still back there, in that night . . . Remus isn’t alive. Jesus. He was just some poor guy who got caught in the crosshairs of a lunatic’s revenge. You know that. This is her panic, and it isn’t helping.”
Her voice trails off as she turns away from me, walking toward the windows in the living room with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Fuck you.” The room is silent as she turns back, and we lock eyes. “Fuck you. You think I’m crazy?”
She spits back with just as much venom, “I think you thought Billy was back at the theater. I think you haven’t dealt with the trauma. And I think you’re making this about you. You don’t even like him, but I can’t take care of you right now, Evie. Chase—”
“Is mine,” I snap, cutting her off. “Chase is mine . . . and I’m not crazy. It was Remus, Goldie. And it doesn’t matter if he was just the counselor. He’s connected in some way. So you can either help me find the goddamn love of my life, or you can get out of my fucking way.”
The feeling of my eyes welling stings, making me blink, allowing a tear to escape, but I wipe it viciously from my face. I’m not sad because they think I’m the product of my fear. Maybe I am, but I’m not afraid for myself anymore. I’m only thinking about him.
There’s nothing but silence as her brows draw together, and she and Noah exchange glances.
I walk to where Noah dropped my duffel bag and clutch the handle, dragging it back to the kitchen as I start opening and shutting drawers, grabbing the biggest knives I see before adding them to my arsenal.
Goldie walks toward the kitchen slowly. “When did you guys . . .”
I don’t look up as I speak. “Why do you care?”
The clangs of silverware and the slams of drawers almost drown out my rage as I take what I need from each one.
“Will it make you less of a bitch right now?”
Noah blows out a harsh breath, drawing my eyes, before he stands between us so we can’t look at each other.
“We need to work together. We’re all on the same side because, clearly, we all love Chase.”
Reluctantly, I nod, and I see my sister try to look around him before retreating and turning back around.
Noah looks down at the duffel. “What’s in the bag?”
“A crossbow . . . from set.”
“Jesus Christ,” Goldie rushes out from behind him, so I smack my hands against the counter.
“Then what’s your plan? Huh?”
Noah’s much calmer than me or Goldie, probably because he’s been here, done this two times more than we have. The distance between us is closed as he strides over and sits on a barstool, looking me in the eyes.
“We’re going to keep calling the cops until somebody fucking listens to us. And I think we should try and talk to whoever saw him last . . .”
“I saw him last . . . It was me.” My voice gets shaky, seeing him in my mind, and it drops me to my knees.
I crouch, gripping the open drawer with all my might because Chase’s favorite knives are inside. He keeps them here because he said all his best dishes are for me. A truly fragile breath exhales between my lips before I make my way back up, slowly reaching inside and pulling them out.
“Who else does Chase spend time with?” Noah presses.
My eyes close for a second before I pull it the fuck together. “I don’t know . . . nobody. His kitchen . . .”
That’s when a thought hits.
“Eddie,” I blurt out. “His sous chef . . . He knows Chase’s whole schedule. And he waited for the guy who installed the cameras . . . Maybe he’d know something . . .”
His eyes grow wide, picking up exactly what I was thinking. He snaps his fingers. “Fuck yeah. We need that footage. That’s something the cops can use.”
I nod. “Um . . . his laptop’s in our room.” I point to the door. “His contacts are on it.”
He’s on his feet, talking over his shoulder. “Listen, I’m not taking Remus or someone who looks like him off the table . . . but how well do we know Eddie?”
Goldie breathes out Noah’s name, but he ignores her as he walks into the bedroom and out almost just as fast with Chase’s laptop in hand.
“Rexy, everyone’s a suspect,” he levels at her. “We don’t know who we’re dealing with, so all I’m saying is, could Eddie be someone we only recognize as a problem in hindsight? Because Chase felt like something was happening . . . We talked about it today.”
It feels like a bomb just dropped in the room. Chase thought something was happening . . . What does that mean?
It’s as if Noah can read my face because he adds, “We agreed not to tell you or Goldie until we were sure there was something to tell.”
“Okay, hate that, but go on,” I answer.
Goldie walks up next to Noah, staring at his profile, and adds, “Same.”
He ignores both of us and continues. “The car felt personal. It reminded him of when we found our apartment in shambles.” He looks at Goldie. “And there’s been a suspicious guy on Evie’s set. And her fish was stolen. He was even suspicious about the rats and his apartment . . .”
She looks around as if she’s suddenly scared to be in her own house, but Noah grabs her hand. “We’re safe here. I promise.”
“He knew?” I don’t know why I care so much about Ruth Bader right now, but I do. It’s the one thing I latched onto.
Noah nods. “There was nothing substantial. It’s all explainable shit, but he kept saying that he just felt like something was coming . . .”
I breathe out, feeling so heavy I’m not sure I could move from this spot, so I stare down at the counter.
“He was right. As usual.”
But still, the thought strikes that he’d love this moment—hearing me say he’s always right. You better live, you son of a bitch.
“There’s also . . .” Noah’s voice cuts off as Goldie whispers his name.
But I’m frowning, locked on an idea that’s swirling like it’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t articulate it as I half-heartedly say, “Also what?”
My head springs up as the thought hits me, but Goldie shakes her head. Except she’s looking at Noah.
I ignore that for a second as I pull my phone from my pocket, immediately scrolling to the numbers, and tap the one I need, typing quickly. The swoosh sounds before I place my phone back to the counter, face up, and dive into what I just saw.
“What’s going on? Why are you shaking your head?”
She glares at Noah, who shrugs. “You need to tell her, Golds . . .” Her arms cross as she looks unconvinced.
So I snap, “Tell me what?”
A whoosh of breath leaves her as she faces me. “I got an email yesterday. It was sent from that PI company Dad hired. They found some info that never made it my way . . .”
“Get to the point,” I level.
“I have a brother,” she answers.
I swallow, all the wind knocked out of me. What the fuck is happening? I don’t know what to say as an empty huff bursts from my chest.
“Did you tell the cops about that?” It feels mean because I meant it to be.
“Yes,” she throws back, brows drawn before scoffing at me like she’s insulted.
I shake my head, so angry that it feels like I’ll never forgive her.
“That’s why you think it isn’t Remus . . . I’m not crazy. You just know it’s your brother.”
The guilt behind her eyes answers for her. But Noah speaks up.
“We don’t know anything. Especially if the report’s even real. Someone’s been fucking with you and Chase. How do we know this isn’t the same? Look at what’s happening. If I wanted to pick us off one by one, this would be a good way to start.”
My phone dings, immediately grabbing my attention, and everything we’ve been talking about comes full fucking circle.
I turn my cell around so it’s facing them before I slide it across the counter. Noah catches it, and I watch their eyes lower to the picture I asked Rick to send.
A grainy black-and-white screen capture of Remus stares back. He’s wearing a hoodie while holding Ruth Bader, but it’s as if he wanted to be caught, because he’s looking directly at the screen, smirking.
Goldie gasps as Noah says, “What the fuck.”
But I nod. “Meet your brother, Goldie. Because he’s alive.”
Her eyes try and meet mine, but I can’t even look at her. So I turn away to stare at Noah instead as he says, “Imma send this to myself.”
He does, motioning like he’s sliding my phone back to me, but Goldie nabs it. I’m watching her, two silent tears tipping over from the corners of her eyes, each at different times before they crookedly make their way down her face.
“I watched you die,” she whispers, holding my phone up, staring at the photo.
Goldie’s chin quivers before she rubs her lips together and brings the back of her hand to her face, wiping away the sadness.
“It’d be great if my relatives would stop coming back from the dead,” she says, finally looking at me.
And this time, I don’t avoid it.
I nod. And we both break, walking around the counter, hugging again, saying sorry for all the things we didn’t mean.
“I didn’t think you were crazy.”
“Yes you did . . .”
“Okay, maybe a little.”
“I’m sorry your brother’s potentially trying to kill us.”
“I’m sorry he kidnapped your boyfriend.”
That’s the thing about me and my sister. It doesn’t matter how many fucked-up relatives she has popping out of the woodwork or what life throws our way. I love her with my whole being. I’m her ride or die for life.
Nobody comes between us.
And if they did, we’d get grounded as adults, for life.
One loud clap next to us makes our heads whip to Noah, who’s standing in the middle of the room with my duffel over his shoulder.
“I sent everything to the cops. And I’m glad you made up. But we got another text.”
Goldie and I let go of each other and rush to our phones.
Unknown: No cops or he dies. *location ping*
My head lifts, Goldie and I looking at each other as Noah says, “Looks like we’re going on a road trip.”