Chapter 31
“Alissa.”
My eyes opened slowly. I couldn’t remember drifting off to sleep, but the light filtering through the curtains told me that I must’ve been out for at least four hours.
For once, it hadn't been shallow or restless. No jolting awake every twenty minutes. No nightmares. Just sleep, deep and uninterrupted, like my body had decided it was finally safe enough to let go.
Maybe it was from the relief I felt after finally admitting the truth to myself.
Or maybe it was exhaustion finally crushing me after a week of sleepless nights.
Either way, something inside me felt strangely quiet now.
Like some violent internal struggle had burned itself out during the night, leaving only ash behind.
“What’s the time?” I murmured, blinking the rest of the sleep out of my eyes.
“Six.” Rhys handed a granola bar to me. “Eat this, and then we’ll get started.”
“Is Zach awake?” I asked.
“Yeah, he has been for a while.”
“Did he say anything?”
Rhys shook his head. “He’s still gagged,” he said. “But judging by the look I saw on his face when I went in there, he’s not too happy. That’s a good sign, though.”
“Why?” I asked, lifting a brow.
“It means I didn’t hit him too hard and scramble his brains when I knocked him out last night,” he replied. “That’s good, because we need him coherent.”
I nodded and unwrapped the bar. Once I was done with it, Rhys handed me a phone. “This is for the video.”
I slipped it into my pocket and rose to my feet. A tight knot had formed in my stomach. This was real now. Not theories or arguments whispered in the dark. Not me spiraling through justifications at two in the morning while Rhys lay ten feet away.
I’d made my choice, and in a few minutes, I was going to help a killer get away with murder.
Rhys watched me carefully as I stood, like he was searching for signs that I might change my mind.
Run.
Scream.
Turn on him at the last second.
But I wasn’t going to.
I’d spent years consuming stories about obsessive killers and the girls who loved them, but those stories had always existed safely behind screens and paperbacks, separated from me by fiction.
This wasn’t fiction anymore.
Every dark fantasy I’d ever had was standing right in front of me now. The dangerous man. The violence. The fear. The twisted intimacy of sharing a horrific secret with someone. And instead of running from it, I’d chosen to step deeper inside it.
I sucked in a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. “I’m ready if you are.”
Rhys nodded and stepped over to the bathroom door. When he opened it, Zach came into view immediately. He was sitting on the floor beneath the sink cabinet with his wrists bound behind him and his ankles tied together. Fury darkened his face as he glared up at Rhys.
Then he saw me standing behind him, and his expression changed instantly, eyes practically popping out of his head with confusion and disbelief.
Rhys reached into his pocket and removed a pistol and magazine separately. Without a word, he began loading the magazine one round at a time, making no attempt to hide what he was doing. The metallic clicks filled the tiny bathroom, and Zach watched every movement.
“If I take the gag off,” Rhys finally said, “are you going to start screaming?”
Zach’s eyes flicked between the gun and Rhys’s face. Then he slowly shook his head.
“Good choice.” Rhys crouched beside him and untied the gag before yanking it free.
Zach coughed hard. Then his gaze snapped toward me again. “So it was the two of you,” he said, voice rough with contempt. “That’s what this is.”
“Not quite,” Rhys replied. “Alissa’s involvement is very recent.”
Zach stared at him for another second before letting out a humorless laugh. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You actually got her on your side.”
Rhys ignored that completely. “You know why this is happening, don’t you?” he asked instead.
Zach’s expression hardened. “No,” he snapped. “I have no idea why you lost your fucking mind and slaughtered fourteen of your own friends.”
“Fifteen, actually,” Rhys said. “Gen too.”
Zach went quiet at that.
“You really haven’t worked it out?” Rhys asked, tilting his head. “After all this time?”
Zach stayed silent for another moment. Then his shoulders dropped a fraction. “It’s about Carly, isn’t it?” he said in a low voice.
“Finally. He gets it.”
Zach closed his eyes for a few seconds, body sagging against the cabinet. Then he looked up again, shaking his head once. “Just do it already,” he said listlessly. “Kill me.”
Rhys didn’t react right away. He just looked at Zach for a moment longer than necessary, like he was waiting for him to notice something in the silence. Then he shook his head. “As much as I’d like to blow your brains out, that’s not happening.”
“Don’t fuck with me, man. Just get it over with.”
“I’m not fucking with you,” Rhys replied. “Killing you was part of the original plan. I was going to stage it as a suicide and pin everything on you. But luckily for you, Alissa made some very good points about that when she came on the scene. She changed my mind.”
Zach’s gaze shot to me. “What do you mean?”
Rhys’s expression softened slightly, and he crouched again. “I saw the group chat,” he said. “You were the only one who felt bad about what happened, weren’t you?”
Zach didn’t respond to that. Just stared at the wall.
“I know you didn’t feel guilty enough to act on it,” Rhys continued. “But you still felt it, didn’t you?”
Zach let out a quiet breath through his nose. “For a while,” he muttered. “Who wouldn’t after something like that?”
“Our fifteen dearly departed friends. That’s who.” Rhys rose to his full height again. “Anyway, when I told Alissa the whole story, she pointed something out. Something obvious in hindsight.”
“What?”
“You’re not like the others,” Rhys said, slowly shaking his head. “As much as I hate being wrong… I have to admit she’s right about that.”
“What are you saying?” Zach asked in a low voice.
“I’m saying you still deserve punishment. Just not death. Prison will do.”
“They’re not going to send me away for what happened to Carly,” Zach said flatly. “I didn’t do anything to her. I just watched.”
“You were complicit, and you know it. That’s why you felt guilty for so long,” Rhys replied. He paused, tilting his head again. “But I wasn’t actually talking about you going to prison for that.”
Zach blinked. “What?”
“It’s like I said a minute ago. I always planned for you to be my fall guy, because you were the easiest to set up,” Rhys said, smiling faintly. “But Alissa convinced me that it works much better if you’re alive to confirm everything.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m saying I can still make it work if you’re dead, but an actual confession would make things a hell of a lot cleaner,” Rhys said. “So, as much as I’d like to shoot you in the head and call it a day, I’m going to give you a chance instead.”
Zach’s eyes narrowed. “What chance?”
“You confess on camera to the camp massacre, and in return, you get to stay alive.” Rhys’s gaze flicked briefly to me before returning to Zach.
“I walk away clean then. The video locks everything in place so there’s no room for debate later.
And it’ll also help to launch Alissa’s journalism career as an added bonus for her. ”
Zach stared at him for a moment. Then he let out a low, throaty laugh, eyes flashing with disbelief. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You honestly think I’ll confess to fifteen murders I didn’t commit?”
“It’s a lot better than the alternative, isn’t it?
” Rhys asked, gesturing with the gun. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t even go to prison in the end.
You’d be deemed unfit for trial and sent to some high-security mental health facility.
And given who your family is, it’d be the cushiest one in the system. Not a bad outcome, all in all.”
“I’m not fucking stupid,” Zach spat out. “Even if I did give you two some bullshit confession, you’d just kill me straight afterwards. Because you know I can recant it later and tell the cops I was forced at gunpoint.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” Rhys lifted the gun slightly. “Because you know what would happen if you even tried.”
Zach scoffed. “What, you’re going to break into a holding cell and kill me?”
“No.” Rhys shook his head. “I know I couldn’t do that. But I could go after your family. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Zach's jaw worked silently for a moment, the muscles in his face pulling tight with something caught between fury and despair. Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t do it,” he muttered. “I just can’t.”
Rhys sighed, like this was disappointing but not surprising. Then he glanced at me. “Oh well. I tried,” he said, lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Guess I’m back to Plan A. I can write a suicide note on his phone. Not as clean, but it’ll work.”
He clicked off the safety and lowered the pistol toward Zach’s head.
Zach immediately started struggling against the cupboard. “Wait!” he said. “Just fucking wait!”
Rhys cocked a brow. “For what?”
“I’ll do it, okay? I’ll fucking do it! I’ll make the confession video!”
“What about afterwards? When I’m not around and you’re safe in custody. You’re not going to try and recant, are you?”
“No! I swear!”
Rhys kept the gun aimed at his head as he looked over at me. “What do you think, Alissa? Is he lying?”
I swallowed hard as I weighed up my response. I knew Zach was lying. Of course he was. If the cops actually showed up and took him somewhere safe, he'd take back every word of his coerced confession. Anyone in his position would.
But if I said that out loud, this whole thing would collapse, because Rhys wasn’t actually going to shoot Zach right now. And as soon as Zach realized that, the bluff would be broken, and then he’d never agree to make the confession tape.
“I think he’s telling the truth,” I said. “He’s going to keep his mouth shut about us.”
“Yes! Listen to her, man!” Zach said, eyes wide as he stared at the barrel of the gun. “Please!”