Chapter 22 #2
I grind my molars, anguish adhering itself to my insides.
“Right, because hiding in the freezer is such a great idea now,” Danny spits out. “The killer locked us in here. What makes you think he won’t come back for us and find you instead? Have fun dying.”
“You two always ruin things.”
“If you want to stay here and die, be my guest,” Danny points to the back of the freezer. “We’re going to the attic.”
My brain blocks out their bickering, barely conscious of the way I step out of the freezer with the knife in my shaking hand.
Dread deepens in my stomach as I walk ahead of the guys, their steps following me, though not as quietly as I would’ve liked them to be.
How could Cupid have known the girls were hiding in the attic?
I look at Danny as we begin to take the stairs.
Doubt spreads its roots deeper into me as I evaluate tonight’s events from an entirely different perspective.
Starting from the moment the power went out.
He volunteered to find the flashlights, refused my company, and made me stay with the girls.
He wasn’t in the room the first time Cupid killed someone.
Then, he just happened to find me in that closet after I was chased by Cupid.
I had been too distressed and lovestruck to look at the clues that were laid out before me.
He had blood on his shirt when we met in the closet. It never crossed my mind to think about the possibility that he got his clothes stained because he had been the one committing the kills.
There’s also the fact that Cupid showed up only a few minutes after Danny left me in the room with Zelda. Leaving enough time for him to fetch the cupid costume and grab his weapon.
While he was allegedly with Bethan and Cerys when I got harassed by Cupid, it doesn’t absolve him from guilt. After all, having an accomplice is part of my theory.
And, in the kitchen, Danny was the one who got close enough to Cupid without hurting him. Maybe because he was telling his accomplice about the girls’ hiding spot, pretending to fight him off.
I count Cupid’s victims and the unaccounted people.
There’s someone who has been missing since the beginning of the night. I was so focused on the flashlights that I never stopped to wonder.
“Where’s Ollie?” I ask, stopping mid-step.
I don’t even care about our exposed position in the middle of the stairs. I can’t lead the killer to Carmen, even if he already knows where she is.
Both Danny and Seth turn to look at me, confused by my sudden question and decision to stop walking.
“What do you mean?” Danny questions, cocking his head to the side.
Twisting the knife’s hilt in my hand, I look him dead in the eye, hoping to catch a glimpse of guilt. A hint that he’s been caught. But I find nothing other than a cloud of confusion.
He could be a great actor, the voice in the back of my brain whispers. Maybe I never really knew him at all.
“You volunteered to find the flashlights after the lights went off, and you took Ollie with you, so where is he? I haven’t seen him all night, and you haven’t mentioned him either.”
Danny’s eyes get a bewildered flicker.
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Why aren’t you answering?” I rebuke in a desperate tone.
“Mabel,” his voice wavers with a hint of pain.
He attempts to take a step toward me, his hand extended between us. Instinctively, before I can consider if it’s a wise choice or not, I raise the knife in front of me. A silent warning of what will happen if he chooses to move again without my consent.
I won’t be fooled by his trickery anymore.
“Is it such a difficult question or are you hiding something?”
His expression drops, brows sunken and lips parted, visibly heartbroken by my accusation.
“I don’t know where he is,” he responds to the original question, his words sounding gentle, though they have an edge that wasn’t there before.
Anger? No, it’s too dull to be anger. “We went together to find the flashlights, but he started to freak out once he heard all the screaming. By the time we found Elodie, he bolted and ran. I lost him. I tried to find him, I swear I did, but . . . I was trying to find you too. I hope he’s alive and safe.
I truly do,” his voice trembles with uncertainty.
I’m afraid he’s not being truthful.
Despite the threat of my blade, Danny extends an arm to touch me, but I flinch and draw away from him again.
“Danny, I . . .”
What is there to say when all the words in the world fail to convey what I’m feeling?
Nothing can knit together the perfect combination to encapsulate this moment of betrayal between us.
It’s almost like the ground has opened under our feet, creating an abyss between us that can’t be put together by something as trivial as saying I’m sorry.
Because apologizing for not trusting him is not something I can afford to do. He’s supposed to be the person I trust the most, the man I’m blindly in love with. I trusted him with every single bit of my soul, even putting myself in danger because the thought of his sacrifice was unbearable.
But now?
Now that I have a new perspective, I notice how he’s always had the perfect excuse for everything.
It’s like I’ve been blinded by his good looks and charming personality, irrationally believing every single one of his excuses.
Always too perfectly constructed, almost rehearsed.
All the lies that have abandoned his lips today form a chain in my mind.
From the second he gave me that story about the letter. His reasoning for Cerys wanting to come to Westbrook. Before, his reasoning made sense to me because I know my friend is a kind person.
But she wouldn’t have come back if Danny hadn’t encouraged her.
I think he might’ve taken advantage of that to manipulate her into this. And Cerys fell helplessly for his lies.
Who would ever distrust Daniel Singh? Golden boy, natural and selfless leader who created a legacy at Delta. Always there with a charming smile and kind words.
Tears sting my eyes, covering my sight with a layer of blurriness that makes it difficult to see Danny’s heartbroken expression. Good. I don’t want to witness his pity act when my heart is chipping apart.
“Wait,” Seth says, eyeing us carefully like he’s just catching on to what’s happening. “You weren’t in the room when that psycho killed Elanie.”
I’m so close to breaking down in tears, but I still want to roll my eyes at his stupidity.
How has it taken him so long to figure it out? He doesn’t even need to put the pieces together when I’ve already laid and glued them together for everyone to see.
“Shut the fuck up, Seth,” Danny snarls. The anger in his tone is almost out of character for him. Like he’s so betrayed and frustrated by my inability to trust him that he can’t handle someone parroting the obvious to his face.
“Oh shit. You’re the killer!”
“If you don’t shut your mouth,” Danny warns, craning his neck to look at Seth in complete disbelief, his brows furrowed and nose flared.
But Seth doesn’t stop.
“You killed Ollie and then went and murdered Elsie!” he yells.
If he doesn’t stop saying her name wrong . . .
Besides, it’s possible Ollie isn’t dead and has been Danny’s accomplice. It’d explain why he hasn’t been around. I wish I could remember if Ollie’s build matches the Cupid I hurt back in the kitchen, but the images come back blurry.
“Seth,” I mumble as a warning.
It’s not wise to rile up a killer, especially when he has a knife in his hand. Like being stupid enough to bleed in a shark tank and hope you won’t get eaten.
“Shut up!” Danny exclaims, stepping closer to Seth, almost getting in his face.
But Seth doesn’t back away. His hands fly to Danny’s knife, trying to snatch it from him.
In his anger, Danny must’ve kept a hard grip on the hilt because even though Seth has a larger frame than him, he’s not able to wrestle it out of his hold.
Instead, they barely manage to keep the blade between them.
“Don’t just stand there, stab him!” Seth shouts at me.
But I can’t move, I back away, climbing a step to put some distance between them and me.
I scream at them to stop. This isn’t good.
We’re not in any position to be wasting time like this, especially not on the stairs, where so many things can go wrong.
Running my fingers through the tangled strands of my hair, I debate what to do.
I don’t want to give my knife to Seth, because I know what will happen to Danny. I’m almost sure he’s one of the killers, but I still can’t bring myself to be a part of his demise. Not like this. Especially not without being a hundred percent sure about his involvement.
Because if I’m wrong, by any chance, then it would mean I killed him. Maybe not with my own hand, but by supplying the murder weapon, and that’s not something I can live with.
They tumble against the banister and one of them loses their footing, dragging the other along as they fall down the flight of stairs.
The knife slips out of Danny’s hand, and I hear it clank on the ground.
Both Danny and Seth come to rest with their backs on the floor—right in front of a pair of black combat boots.
Ones shadowed by black robes and an axe.
Cupid.
“Look out!”
Before I can shield my eyes or even blink, Cupid holds his axe high in the air and then brings it down on Seth’s neck.
The loud thwack reverberates through the house as he hacks off his head, followed by my horrified shriek.
Spreading the flesh with the edge of the axe to break through the bones, Cupid swats Seth’s head, making it roll along the floor.
Then, he lifts the axe again in Danny’s direction.
I scream his name, but fortunately Danny’s reflexes kick in and he rolls out of the axe’s path just in time to avoid the same ending as Seth. He shuffles backward, out of range of Cupid’s killing weapon, evading the axe swings as he tries to reach for the knife.
“Mabel, run!”
Regret spreads through my body, leaving me breathless and gasping for air.
If I hadn’t distrusted him and questioned all his actions, Danny wouldn’t be in this position. We would’ve made it to the second floor. Seth would probably still be alive, but he’s not the one I care about.
I care about Danny.
The gentle guy I know doesn’t have the heart of a killer.
I’ve always known this. He doesn’t have the capacity to inflict hurt, it’s not in his nature to be mean and ruthless.
Deep down, I’ve always been aware of this.
It’s why it took me so long to question him about Ollie, why I believed every excuse, because he wasn’t lying to me.
I let all my insecurities control me; it didn’t allow me to see the real picture.
Too focused on trying to find reasons to find him guilty, I stopped thinking about the guy I’m madly in love with.
I went as far as telling myself a different version of what I’ve lived through tonight to fit the narrative of him being the villain.
Building a wall to protect myself from the vulnerability I feel around him.
But being vulnerable wasn’t a weakness.
My feelings for Danny were what held me together throughout this nightmare. They brought me comfort in the moments where I felt like I couldn’t continue, giving me a purpose, even when I felt death was a touch away.
My love for Danny made me stronger, but I chose to ignore it because the fear of being betrayed by someone I love was more powerful.
“I can’t leave you,” I say, shaking my head.
Tears abandon my eyes, rolling down my cheeks.
“Run,” he orders firmly, standing up to meet Cupid. “Stick to the plan. They need you.”
Our gazes lock for a split second.
How can I let him know how sorry I am for not trusting him? I should’ve done better. My trauma response urges me to run away and isolate myself to avoid getting hurt. I’ll always be the one who bails.
Like I must do now after committing the worst mistake of my life.
Run, he mouths at me silently.
So I run, taking the rest of the stairs as fast as I can. I can’t look back now. More tears flow out of me. I run until I find the closet that leads to the attic, only to find the door already open.
My throat burns with anxiety.
When Seth mentioned he switched hiding spots because he heard screaming coming from above, a part of me refused to believe it was because my sister was in danger. But it must’ve been the truth.
Nausea settles in my stomach. Without Danny, I don’t have the courage to face the horrors awaiting me in the attic.
But I must carry on, even as I’m being crushed by regret.
I can’t let Danny’s sacrifice be in vain.
If I freeze now, I’d be failing him, and I’ve already betrayed him enough to last a lifetime.
Rushing to the closet, I waste no time climbing the steps to the attic, noticing the blood smeared over them. I gulp down the knot of tears in my throat and continue crawling up the ladder until I get to the hatch. On my knees, I hoist myself into the attic, searching for my sister.
I spot Bethan first, sitting on the floor with her hands pressed to her bleeding thigh. Next to her, perched on a box, is Cerys. The bandages that Danny had put together for her are now shredded at her feet, her hands pressing over her wound.
A choked noise erupts from my chest when I find my sister. Her beautiful face is framed by smudged make-up and tear streaks. But that’s not what makes my knees buckle. It’s the blade pressed to the base of her throat by a man with familiar blue eyes.
“Hi, stranger. Took you long enough to make it to the killer reveal.”