Chapter 8
For the past three days, I’ve scoured the internet for any leads on who Jack and Legs may be. So far, I haven’t found anything because, without a surname, these are just random names.
Frustrated, I did something stupid and typed in Kit’s name. It didn’t surprise me that he didn’t have socials.
But Dandy did.
I fell down the rabbit hole and got lost for hours catching up on the life of my once best friend.
Dandy has grown into the amazing man I knew he would. His hair changed color every year. From blue to purple to pink, Dandy didn’t allow the small-minded folk of Hollow Banks to sway him from embracing who he really was. And that was someone artistic, fearless, and full of life.
Pictures of him celebrating milestones such as birthdays, graduation, and starting college convey his happiness. He has a boyfriend he clearly loves.
I’m happy to see him thrive.
However, over the past six months, the tone of his posts has changed.
I’ve watched Dandy go from loving and carefree to what feels dark and depressed. Gone are his bright pink curly locks. In their place is dyed black hair and pale skin to match his desolate eyes.
What happened?
Quotes litter his feed about loneliness and surrendering to the darkness. And pictures of his boyfriend are no more.
Dandy has a broken heart, and it’s affected him terribly. It kills me to see him miserable. I know how ironic that sounds, considering I happily murdered a man in cold blood. But he deserved it.
Dandy doesn’t deserve any sadness in his life because he’s a good person.
I slam my laptop shut because I absolutely cannot go back to Hollow Banks to make sure he’s all right.
“Pull yourself together,” I whisper to myself because I don’t need any heat on me.
Smokes’s gory death made the news.
Police confirmed he was murdered, and they were talking to staff and witnesses to follow up on any leads, which means they don’t know a thing.
They’ve not linked it to Jupiter because it’s not her usual MO. With six, now seven bodies being discovered in Flat Planes, people are scared. The media are having a field day, of course, because fear sells.
So does human tragedy.
We’re all secretly intrigued by the macabre. The endless serial killer documentaries are confirmation of this.
We need to be a little more careful from now on, as the police have set up Operation XY. A special task force whose sole job is to find the killer.
I haven’t shared this with Jupiter, but since killing Smokes, something inside me feels lighter. It’s hard to explain, but the reason I did what I did was to regain control over the boys who assaulted me.
But with two of them dead, and knowing the name of the third, I feel like the gears have shifted, and now, I’m the one behind the wheel.
The reason I haven’t told Jupiter is because I don’t want to sound ungrateful. Just because I’ve turned a corner or whatever they’d call this revelation in therapy doesn’t mean she has. She hasn’t been able to put a name to the faces who hurt her like I have.
So I can’t expect her to stop just because I’m beginning to question my morals.
I don’t know what’s happening to me.
Thinking back to seeing Kit here at the orphanage, a small part of me wonders what life would be like with him. Would we do normal things a man and woman our ages do like go on dates? Cuddle on the couch? Have…sex?
The thought of being intimate with anyone after what happened to me literally made me sick. So I didn’t.
Boys were something that didn’t matter, and it didn’t faze me one bit.
But after seeing Kit, I can’t quash down the thoughts of wondering what it would feel like to be pressed against him as we kissed, because I still haven’t been kissed.
Those raping assholes weren’t concerned about that.
They may have stolen my virginity, but my lips remain untouched.
It’s the one thing about me that is pure.
“Olivia,” says Sister Jessie. “Can you run into town and pick up the donations at the store?”
“Of course, Sister.”
The distraction would be nice.
“Oh, you’re a godsend.” She passes me the car keys.
She wouldn’t say that if she knew what I’ve done.
I smile and grab my backpack.
“Debbie is working. She knows what to give you.”
The church runs a thrift store where generous members of the community donate clothes, toys, furniture, household items, and other goods. The church uses the proceeds to fund the orphanage’s needs. Sometimes if there is excess stock, the orphanage will take it.
It’s a great way of giving preloved items a second chance.
I wonder if this applies to me as well.
Do I deserve a second chance?
The run-down car, which belongs to the orphanage to run errands, is parked out back. I start it up and make the twenty-minute drive into town.
I notice a lot more police cars and officers patrolling the streets. This was inevitable. I wonder if this is a sign that Jupiter needs to perhaps stop.
I know it’s not as simple as turning off a switch. But things are getting dangerous, and I’m afraid we may get caught. I always knew that was a risk, and I didn’t care. But things feel different now.
And that has something to do with Kit Rivers.
His garage is on the way to the thrift store. I could have gone a different direction, but I wanted to see him. And I have my wish because he’s standing in front of the garage, talking to a woman.
I assume the fancy BMW parked out front is hers and that it needs repairs. But by the way she’s flicking her hair over her shoulder, I’m guessing that’s just an excuse.
It’s a warm day, and Kit is wearing a pair of blue overalls, but in typical Kit style, he’s left one strap undone. His dirty white T-shirt emphasizes his muscular arms, which the lady continues to touch as they speak.
It’s sickening watching these women throw themselves at him. Kit remains unmoved by her advances. Let’s be real, he’s probably used to it. The thought has me clenching the steering wheel.
Lost in visions of hair-pulling, I don’t realize I’m still at the light, which has turned green. The car behind me honks incessantly, drawing attention to me daydreaming, and that includes Kit, who does a double take when he sees me.
Panicking, I attempt to drive off, but thanks to the old car being a standard, I stall. When I desperately try to flee, the gears crunch as I attempt to drive away but fail miserably. My panic draws the attention of cars and passersby who turn to look at me.
It seems I’ve forgotten how to drive because I can’t find the right gears.
Kit begins to walk toward me, which cannot happen. I’m about to blow my cover and draw attention I do not want.
Taking a slow, deep breath, I center myself. I put the car into drive and speed off, only just making the light. Cars honk at me as I race past them, but I need to put as much distance between Kit and me.
I risk a glimpse into the rearview mirror and watch Kit walk back to the garage, hands atop his head.
That was too close.
That was the slap to the face I needed to be more careful. One wrong move and both Jupiter and I would be caught.
But regarding Kit, I can’t help but feel I already have.
I pack the car full of boxes and drive straight back to the orphanage.
No detours.
Today can never happen again.
I text Jupiter saying we need to talk. Truth be told, I’m scared. It’s as if all these signs are a warning.
I haven’t come this far only to end up in jail.
She told me to meet her tonight at the bowling alley where she works. We both keep out of the public eye and work forgettable jobs because being a no one is what keeps you safe.
That’s not entirely true because I was a nobody in Hollow Banks, and somehow the monsters found me. But it was never a random attack.
Smokes confirmed it when he revealed Jack is Legs’s brother. And that I was a homecoming “present.”
Why me?
That’s still the question, however.
And who is Legs?
I’ve exhausted my online search, but hope Jupiter may have found something, seeing as she’s the sleuth.
But if she comes up empty, then I know the only way to find the final missing piece of the puzzle is to go back to where it all started.
I can’t let this go.
The only way for me to be free is to finish this.
What happens after that, I don’t know. But what I do know is that Jack and Legs must die. The familiar burn suddenly knocks at my temples, hinting that a blackout episode threatens to ruin my day. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Olivia.”
“Jesus Christ!” I instantly regret my choice of blasphemy when my eyes pop open to see Mother Superior.
She’s clearly unimpressed. Mother Superior has never been my biggest fan. I think she might see me for who I really am.
I’m in the basement, unpacking the supplies I picked up today to make it easier to sort for the sisters. Looking at my watch, I see it’s after four.
I’ve been in here for hours.
“Sorry, Mother Superior, time has slipped away from me.” I totally missed putting the children down for their afternoon naps. “I’ll be up right away and help with dinner duties.”
“There’s a gentleman here to see you.” She doesn’t hide her distaste that I have a gentleman calling on me.
But there’s surely some mistake.
“For me? That’s impossible. I don’t know any gentleman.”
“Well, he certainly knows you. He asked to see the young sister who helped him with Father Justin’s car. He’s out front.”
Breathing suddenly becomes a chore.
Mother Superior looks at me, lips pursed. She’s unhappy for so many reasons. And she has every right to be. Because so am I.
There’s only one man this can be.
Kit Rivers.
Why is he here?
“I’ll take care of this. I’m sorry, Mother Superior.”
I don’t wait for her to reply.
I charge up the stairs and through the hallways, becoming angrier with each step I take.
How dare he come here?
I use my swipe card to open the door and see his back turned as he waits for me at the bottom of the stairs. He’s in his dirty overalls. His hair is a mess.
He turns slowly when he hears me. “Hey—”
I don’t give him a chance to say another word as I yank him by the forearm around the back, where no one can see us.