Chapter 13
Piper
Present Day
The vibrating of my phone next to my head wakes me from a nightmarish sleep.
It’s been buzzing for the past ten minutes, annoying the hell out of my subconscious.
But I’ve always been a heavy sleeper, and that hasn’t changed, even though I’m currently in my dead parents’ house, recently fucked by my parents’ murderer, a monster without features or a soul that I now know is real.
It would take a lot more than that to give me insomnia, though.
I open one groggy eye and look at the number flashing on my screen. I don’t recognize it.
Could it be…?
Stop. Stop right now.
I clear my voice to try to make myself sound more awake, then answer. “Yeah?”
“Still in bed?” chirps a cheerful, dumb-sounding male voice. “I’m waiting for you downstairs.”
“Huh?”
“It’s Josh. Get your butt moving and let’s go!”
I sit up, blinking in confusion. “What the fuck? I didn’t order a car.”
“I know. I came of my own free will. I quit!”
“You… what?” I’m trying to wrap my head around the chirpy voice that’s like a hammer to my brain. I suddenly understand why my own voice used to annoy Quill so much.
There’s nothing worse than listening to an irresistibly cheerful person when you’re the farthest thing from happy.
To be fair, my voice was the only part of me that was cheerful.
Living in Astley, I got bullied round-the-clock, and my sunny personality turned into a sunny facade that I hid behind, until high school got the better of me.
It took exactly one toilet-dunking at Quill’s hands in freshman year for me to get angry.
And I got so fucking angry.
But it also took only one kiss from Quill in senior year to forget all about that and go right back to being cheerful, annoying Piper with him.
With everyone else, though, I kept right on being Pissed-off Piper.
Maybe I am like an insect, after all. An insect with a tiny brain and no memory.
Insect. Cricket. What kind of fucked-up nicknames are those, anyway?
It’s crazy what you’ll accept when you imagine someone is in love with you.
Cruel words turn into terms of endearment when they’re spoken by a boy who pretends to care.
I rub my eyes and tune back into Josh’s rambling.
“Still with me, Piper?” he chirps. “Or did you fall back asleep?”
“I’m here,” I yawn. “So… you quit?”
He clicks his tongue, annoyed. “Didn’t you hear anything I just said? I didn’t actually quit. I was fired. The boss found out I’d taken a look at his files.”
“Oh. Sorry about that.”
“No problemo.”
I grimace. It’s way too early for the utter cringiness that is Josh.
“How’d you get my phone number anyway?” I mumble.
“I told you. Had a look at his files. Anyway, I’m downstairs, so hurry up!”
“Hurry up?”
“Yeah. I’m waiting for you. Let’s go find your parents’ killer and make him pay, Nancy Drew!”
I groan loudly. A lot has happened since yesterday. For one, my parents’ death has finally begun to sink in, and the last thing I want to do is play detective.
For another, I have a man on my mind right now, and it’s definitely not Josh.
All the contradictory emotions rush at my throat as I think of the man who is on my mind, but one thing’s clear. There’s no way I’m telling Josh my theory about the murderer’s identity. I can barely admit it to myself.
Instead, I scowl, “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Well, ask yourself, WWND?”
“Huh?”
“What would Nancy do?” asks Josh. “Where would she start?”
“Devil Tower.”
The words are out before my brain even has time to form them, but the minute I’ve spoken them, I know they’re true.
I remember Quill’s words. Stay the fuck away from Devil Tower.
That means I definitely shouldn’t stay away from Devil Tower, if I want answers. I’m going to be a pain in his ass, like I have been according to him since the moment I met him. I guess some things never change.
Anyway, what’s the worst that can happen? If he was going to kill me, that probably would have happened already.
I hang up on Josh after promising to be downstairs in twenty minutes and head into the shower, lost in thought. What would happen if Quill saw me going to Devil Tower? Would he come over to give me another punishment fuck? That’s not the reason I want to go over there, but…
My hand inches once more to my folds, and, under the hot water raining down from the shower head, I sink three fingers into my pussy, closing my eyes as I let my mind drift back to last night.
He made me feel like shit, but fuck was it hot. Maybe I’d have been able to resist him better if not for the three-years-long dry spell that followed his dumping me.
Not that I didn’t do my best to move on with my life. I joined Tinder and went on tons of dates. Some of them seemed promising, but somehow, no one ever called me back.
Maybe I really am as annoying as Quill says.
Quill. I drive my fingers in and out of my pussy, while my other hand finds my already-stiff clit and rubs it. Soon, I’m tingling all over from an orgasm that couldn’t possibly hope to match the one he gave me last night while making me feel worthless.
I turn off the water and grab a towel, my thoughts now focused on what I told Josh.
Devil Tower.
The prospect of annoying the hell out of Quill gives me the energy to get dressed. But the thrill is tempered by anger, bitter anger, and violent self-hatred as I realize what I’m doing.
Aching for a monster to fuck me.
I close my eyes, leaning against the sink, my heart thundering so hard in my chest it almost drowns out the clenching of my stomach muscles as I hunger for him.
But maybe he’s not the killer. I latch onto that thought with a desperate sort of hope. Maybe the murderer is still out there. What proof do I have, anyway?
None really. I just assumed it was the murderer who paid for my 10,000 dollar hotel suite. Now I know Quill paid, though I have no idea how he managed to get that kind of money.
Well, I have an inkling of an idea. He is a Devil soldier, after all. I guess if he’s pulling in that kind of money, he’s got a lot of blood on his hands.
10,000 dollars means nothing to a Devil soldier. Who knows why he paid for my hotel room? To get me out of the way. To keep an eye on me. To... sink his cock in me at his convenience.
All of those feel perfectly plausible coming from Quill.
I sigh, wrapping myself up in my thin winter coat. Quill is a monster, and though I have no proof, I just fucking know he did this monstrous thing.
But who told him to?
That’s what I need to find out at Devil Tower.