Chapter Twenty Territorial Predator #2
When we agreed to help, it was like we were giving him something to work for. Maybe it was wrong of us to do this. Maybe we were making it worse by opening up a can of worms we didn’t need to but it was helping him.
He started eating again, he gained muscle back working out in the gym with me.
But even then, even now as I look over at his eyes, I can see it.
His eyes had gone cold the night Rose’s heart stopped beating.
Rook abruptly stops what he is doing, as if we have all the time in the fucking world. Walking over to his book bag and unzipping the side pocket. Revealing a little baggie with two white pills inside of it.
“You’re joking.” Silas remarks as he watches him approach the desk.
“Do I look like I’m joking?” Rook challenges.
Rook Van Doren, the only one of us who could leave this town and actually become a decent person. Parts of me felt guilty that we fueled his chaotic side so much, his father’s words having some truth among it.
Rook was already screwed up, but instead of telling him to cover it up like everyone else, we made him embrace it.
Depending on how you looked at it, that could be good or it could just be doing more damage.
“Okay, Nurse Jackie,” I butt in, “Take your goddamn pills so we can finish what we came here for.”
Silas takes the medicine, mumbling a low thank you.
We had searched every nook, underneath rugs, beneath the couch cushions and were coming up empty-handed. Tensions were high as we were headed towards what looked like a severe dead end. If we couldn’t connect Greg West to Rose, we didn’t have much else to go on.
And we couldn’t go around breaking into every single teacher’s office. So that would mean Rose’s murder would go unsolved. With no police to investigate, no lead to follow, her death would sit on our conscious, on Silas’s conscious forever.
Short of having Thatcher kill him just to kill him, we were screwed.
I watched Silas flip through pages, eyes scanning for anything, the smallest hint of something to give us an excuse to visit Greg late at night. Using whatever means necessary to get the information we needed.
He was desperate for answers and I thought, was the knowing worse? Knowing now that she was murdered, but still not being able to catch her killer.
I couldn’t help but wonder if we should have just left it alone in the first place. If we should have told him no and let him grieve. Then again, we would have been getting dressed for another funeral if we did that.
Silas, in his head, didn’t have anything else to live for besides Rose. This hunt, it gave him another reason. I wasn’t going to be the friend to take it away, just to have him kill himself moments later.
We searched for another ten minutes, the seconds ticking down quickly, too quickly. We were running out of time and patience.
“There is nothing in here! A few crinkled Hustlers with schoolgirls on them proves he’s a fucking pervert, not a goddamn killer.” Rook yells, frustration coming off all of us in waves.
“Well, what did you expect, numb nuts, there to be a message written on the wall in big letters, I killed Rosemary Donahue?” I bite out, if anyone needs to be pissed it’s Silas. Our jobs as friends is to keep our shit together for him, not blow up when things don’t go our way.
“You know, you don’t have to be such a fucking cunt.” He snaps.
“No big letters but, how about a metal safe hiding behind a curtain?” Thatcher’s voice is the only reason I have not punched Rook’s teeth in. That and that alone.
I turn to see Thatch holding back a curtain that I assumed hid a window, which was what Mr. West had wanted I assumed. In the wall was a large safe equipped with a built-in combination lock.
The only way we were getting inside of it without being caught is to figure out the code and from the looks of it, he didn’t look like the kind of guy to just write down the password to his sketchy safe.
“Anyone know someone who can crack a safe?” Rook mutters from the corner.
The alarm on my phone begins to go off, alerting me that we need to leave because there is only ten minutes left before the security cameras cut back on.
“If we get caught it won’t matter if we know anyone. Let’s go.” I wave, making sure everything is put back in its original place before opening the door and looking both ways.
When I make sure no one is coming we all slip out easily, locking the door behind us. Making our way down the hallway of the Rothchild District and towards the exit of the building.
It wasn’t a complete failure and it wasn’t the best news, but it was something. Another task, another name to hunt down. Whatever it took to keep Silas from turning his favorite weapon on himself.
I didn’t want to bury another friend this year.
Rook was already texting half his contacts asking around about safe crackers and people who specialized in it by the time we made it outside of the building, starting to walk past the commons when two bodies in front of the library, the library with my name on it, caught my attention.
I was quite close with the sin of wrath.
If the devil was handing out awards for who represented which the most, I’d win the trophy with flying fucking colors.
I knew about lust, my pride had gotten me into more fights than I could count, I think gluttony and greed went hand in hand and I was a glutton for punishment.
Envy was one of the only sins I didn’t practice often.
Jealously and its green monster showed up around one person, and over the years it had slowly faded.
I’d recognized there was nothing he had that I wanted as I got older, soon my jealously as the unwanted younger brother drifted into hatred.
I couldn’t care less if my dear older brother lived or died, I meant that in the worst way.
And right now, I’d never wanted to commit first degree murder so badly in my life. Dorian Caldwell.
The bane of my existence was exchanging conversation I couldn’t hear with the thorn in my side.
I hadn’t seen my brother since Christmas three years ago, I’d made it a point to be out of the house until he was gone. He stood a few feet away, a stupid fucking tweed jacket over his shoulders that looked like a burlap sack.
Success, wealth, it stuck to him the way flies lingered on shit. I despised him a little more for the way he styled his hair, the same charcoal color sitting on top of my own head, just less gel.
Two opposing forces, both I wanted to ruin in very different ways stood before me.
The weather was decent out, warm enough for Briar to be sporting a pair of shorts moms wore in the eighties.
I traced her long legs all the way to her busted up Converse, the one on her left foot had a piece of silver duct tape along the side.
Assuming it was there to cover up the big ass hole that was still evident.
Her hair caught a gust of wind, slipping it behind her as she smiled at my brother who was helping gather her books off the ground.
I wanted to rip his arms off for making her smile like that.
For having her attention.
My fingernails dug into my palm, squeezing so forcefully I thought I might have brought blood to the surface. The way she laughed at something he said, and how he purposely made sure their fingers touched as he handed over her books.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill him or punish her first.
Dorian wasn’t supposed to be in for another week or two, at least. He never showed up for holidays this goddamn earlier and the year he does, he’s trying to take what is mine. Once again, he is ripping what belong to me right out of my fucking hands.
Proving I was nothing but his spare. Everything I had was only his to take.
But not this time. Not her.
Briar was mine.
Mine to torment.
Mine to manipulate.
Mine to break.
It was about goddamn time she learned what happened when she didn’t play by my rules.
I look over at the guys, feeling like I need to physically remove my eyes from them,
“I think I know someone who can help us with that safe.”
Whether she wants to or not.