30. Kayden
KAYDEN
My suspicions were right.
He was—is—after Madelyn. I just wasn’t aware that she knew and was hiding it from me.
I wonder if he made her do things, too, the way he did with me.
Illegal things. The stuff of nightmares. My stomach churns with the thought.
For my little demon’s sake, I hope she didn’t play along with any of his threats.
I should have talked to her long ago, the minute this freak showed up, threatening me.
I should talk to her now and put a stop to all these secrets. Tell her everything—the messy and the complicated included. That was the plan on my way here. Pick her up and spill the truth.
I have no idea if she would believe me. She didn’t want to listen to me in the past when this same thing happened. I knew I didn’t do it, even if I couldn’t explain it. I never leaked the sex tape, I was sure of that.
I understand why Maddy thought it was me, but I wanted to keep doing what we were doing back then, explore deeper that intense attraction between us. I had no interest in ruining everything and humiliating her. No matter how rocky our relationship was.
If there were no secrets between us now—this psycho wouldn’t have anything to hold against me. No leverage.
I didn’t know he would involve Madelyn this deep, making her play a game and claiming more victims.
If Joseph’s really hurt as Maddy claimed, we could be implicated in his homicide. There’s no way we can call the police without looking suspicious.
I navigate the hallways, led by my phone’s flashlight and the lit-up garland decorations that someone stuck on the floor, creating a path through the whole first floor, and reaching the storage room.
Contrary to what Maddy says, however, the room is empty.
If Joseph was here before—he either is alive and got out, he’s the psycho and is pulling out a villain-pretending-to-be-dead moment out of the movies, or someone moved his body while Maddy and I were talking.
The answer is obvious the second I accidentally flash the tiles of the floor with my light.
A stain of blood spreads across it, creating a thin trail. A path that brings chills down my spine.
My steps are slow and steady as I follow the only lead I have. If this is Joseph’s blood, I have a bad feeling about his chance of survival.
I don’t have to wait long to find out. Following the trail, I’m led right to my sanctuary, the gym. Walking straight from one point to another and crossing to the locker room. The trail stops at the entrance, and is replaced by a message in red on the floor.
I don’t believe it’s blood this time. It’s more reminiscent of ink—the same ink from the message in my room.
Except this message makes no sense.
Uoy si noved. Nedyak uoy ma I. Gnola lla uoy.
Is this a cryptic message? An ancient language? It doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard before.
I pull out my phone and take a picture with flash before moving on.
Ahead of me, Joseph’s lying on a bench, unmoving, arms dangling at his sides.
A cap is tossed on the floor beside him. Blood dances around one side of his face, his temple, and reaches all the way to the back of his head, a blotch of crimson red pooling. I’m guessing that’s where he got the main blow.
I press my fingers to his neck. No pulse. His skin isn’t that cold yet, and there’s no stiffness to it—he hasn’t been dead for long.
I wish I were more impacted by this. But after what I had to deal with in the past few days, I must have developed an immunity to it.
My chest isn’t tightening, there’s no pain, no shakiness, no trauma from the sight. I don’t want to puke my heart out. All I see is a body. Collateral damage.
Once again, he’s done this. Leaving me with his dirty laundry.
My blood boils at the thought of it. I have to take care of this.
I scan the rest of the room with my phone’s flashlight. The benches are empty. Everything else seems in place. My eyes catch on a note stuck to one of the lockers.
Before you go all angry on me, know who we were dealing with. This piece of shit stayed behind at school watching Madelyn.
Not only today, but multiple times.
He was trying to find a way to convict her, make her guilty for the disappearance of his shitty friend.
Yes, the guy that we took care of? That was the janitor’s idiot buddy. He too, was scum on earth.
He had drugs in his car, you know?
He was going back there to spike Maddy’s drink.
He had them in his pocket when I caught him, almost making it back into the bar.
He had to be put in his place.
This damn janitor, too. He stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, bro. He had it coming.
Actions have consequences after all. No one goes unpunished.
I did it for us.
For you, me, and Maddy.
See, I gave it some thought, and I think we can make this work.
I can make an exception for you. I can share. If she’s in, I’m in. I’m a flexible guy.
My jaw tightens and I swallow again before continuing. Like hell I’ll share my little demon with this psycho.
Sure, you have to clean this up. Sorry about that.
It’s become something of a habit, hasn’t it?
But it’s the least you could do.
After all, I’m being nice.
I deserve some kind of proof I can trust you, right?
Anyway, I’m going off track here.
Don’t worry about this little incident; the cameras are off. It shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of the body.
Believe it or not, Kayden, even though I may have been making your life hard, we’re not so different, you and I.
Devon
Fuuuck.
How are we going to cover this up?
Even if I make another trip to a town father away, sooner or later, the police will catch up. I don’t want this to be connected to Maddy, either. We’ll have to quit. Disappear quietly before the cops show up again.
I snatch the note from the locker and push it into my pocket, the impact of my fist on the metal, tilting the door open.
It isn’t locked.
It should be.
I pull at the door, my mouth falling open as the contents inside are revealed.
A mask, Xs slashed across its eyes in neon red. A blood-stained hockey stick.
The murder weapon?
Right beside it, a phone, and…Madelyn’s diary.
Her diary is here. The one that I stole from her and then got stolen from me is here.
Chills rake over my whole body.
What the fuck.
This doesn’t make any sense.
The diary. A mask. A phone.
I reach for it—the last thing left for me to see.
I slide my finger across the screen to reveal that a passcode is needed.
I hiss, bile rising in my throat.
I don’t know the password.
I think back to the note. Devon. He signed it as Devon. I thought that was weird, but he’s trying to taunt me. Devon is my secret. I didn’t put much thought into it, but maybe that was a hint.
I don’t know how I know, I just do. Call it a hunch.
Oh-one-thirteen.
My late brother’s birthday. The one I never talk about. The part of my past this sicko threatened to tell. The incident I’ve ignored all my life, encouraged by my father to hide.
Devon.
The phone unlocks.
I browse through the apps. Pictures of Madelyn fill the gallery. Some of them are of her sleeping, and those are the best quality ones. As if someone stood in front of her while she was sleeping and took them.
Others are less clear, like screenshots of a video clip. Her doing everyday activities—cooking, reading, fucking dressing up. Some of them are more intimate—sending blood rushing straight to my cock—Madelyn using a purple toy, Maddy soaping her naked body in the shower.
I frown. This motherfucker has been watching my little demon all this time.
I’m not innocent; I’ve done my fair share of camera-stalking in the past, a bit too obsessed with Madelyn. I’ve watched her, too.
But I was young and stupid. I’ve been holding myself back since I returned. Well, at least when it comes to packing the house with cameras.
Next, I go to the messages. Maddy’s number is in the contacts list, and I read through all the ones he’s sent her.
The name Devon is thrown among them, too.
But this guy is not Devon.
I know he isn’t.
Because I saw Devon die with my own eyes.
I killed him, didn’t I?
In that fire when we were sixteen.
He stood there, flames dancing along his body, and I watched.
I didn’t try to help, even when he screamed for help. I let him die.
Right at that moment, I understand it.
The way my body is both calm and tense at the same time. How every piece of evidence I find makes me feel on edge. Intrigued, yet it doesn’t surprise me.
The sight of Joseph’s body does nothing to me.
It’s like I’ve seen it all before. Like a sense of déjà vu.
As it all starts to make sense in my head, the hardest pill to swallow, is that I knew all this.
I knew it, and I let it happen.
The open locker is a vacant one, which is why I took it for myself.
The locker is mine. And Devon’s birthday used to be my password, too. Before Madelyn came into my life, and I changed it to hers. It was Devon’s birthday—and mine.
Devon’s the key to everything. But he isn’t the one who’s been taunting both Maddy and me.
Suddenly, it clicks, suddenly. Devon—his name backwards is ‘noved.’ I’ve seen that word before.
The writing on the floor.
I take out my phone and stare at the picture I took. The cryptic language. The unclear message is now so clear.
It was me. I fucking did this.
This is all my fault.