Chapter 32 Reverie #2
My relief is short-lived, replaced with foreboding. Lionel’s been calling me home this entire time, and I’ve continued to defy him, but maybe it’s no longer in my best interest. Now that we have confirmation Lionel is still holding on to his lockbox, maybe I should go home so I can find it.
“Rev…” Barry’s voice draws me back to reality. “It’s obvious someone is helping him, and there’s a chance it could be a student.”
I frown. “Well, yeah, Ro—”
“But it’s not Roxi,” he says quickly, causing me to stutter.
“Wh— H-how do you know?”
Another heavy exhale, but this one sounds as if he doesn’t want to tell me something. My heart rate kicks up.
“Barry?” I push.
“She has an airtight alibi.” The crease between my brows deepens, along with my confusion.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on her since you first told me about her, and…
” He hesitates. “She was in California, sweetheart. The press has photos of her walking into Lionel’s house only an hour before you called. ”
My mouth drops, and while my brain short-circuits, I sputter yet again.
“Wh-what? Then… Who the fuck is helping him?”
It’s a rhetorical question, of course, yet it still enrages me that we don’t know.
“None of this makes any fucking sense, Barry. It’s not Lionel, because Officer Hillcrest confirmed him to be home. It’s not Roxi because she’s with Lionel. And it’s not the copycat because he’s in California going on a murder spree?”
My hand flies to my forehead as I shake my head, my frustration mounting until it feels as if I’m on the verge of spontaneously combusting. This is all just so fucking confusing.
“She’s the obvious suspect, but it’s entirely possible she was meant to be a red herring. A way to manipulate you, nothing more. Lionel is smart and could’ve befriended another student to do his dirty work.”
I understand why Barry has to consider all angles and possibilities, but something about Lionel bringing multiple people into his fold just screams the complete opposite of something he’d do.
Granted, maybe he’s found a way to manipulate or blackmail them into doing his bidding without revealing who he actually is, but it still seems too risky to me.
Working with the copycat, I can understand—the necessity of maintaining his innocent image and needing another to continue the Locksmith murder spree while he’s in prison.
But young students who are likely not major criminals and would crack under pressure if caught?
It’s just… implausible.
Then again, who else could it be if not someone else?
An uncomfortable feeling prods at the back of my mind, and it has my heart dropping into a well of anxiety in my gut.
The first time I got this feeling when I called Barry to tell him about the box being thrown at the window, I refused to put words to it.
Now that it’s returned, I still don’t want to.
All my information has come from one source, yet none of it is adding up…
Don’t go there, Rev.
“Listen, I know how frustrating this is, but I’m going to figure this out, okay? We know Lionel has that damn lockbox somewhere, and that gives me all the hope I need to nail the fucker. But in the meantime, we have every reason to put security on you.”
Still trying to battle off the sickening feeling in my stomach, it takes a moment to register what he’s saying.
“Wait, no, Barry,” I say, shaking my head. “I-I know it’s stupid, but no security. Please.”
“Rev—”
“Don’t put more blood on my hands.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them, shrill with panic.
His silence is heavy, and distress eats at my nerves.
“If… if something happens to them because they’re watching over me, I couldn’t handle that.
Especially if there are two o-or three of them, or however many there are.
I just… I just don’t want anyone else standing in their path, okay?
And—and I know that sounds insane, but I have Dread and his two friends watching over me.
That’s already more people than I want putting themselves at risk, but at least they’re all doing it in hopes they do end up in one of their paths. ”
Barry groans.
“Please, Barry? I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”
“How can you expect me to be okay with a bunch of college kids being the ones to keep you safe?” he argues.
“I don’t need to tell you how dangerous Lionel is, so why do I need to explain that three inexperienced guys watching over you is completely idiotic as opposed to a trained professional who can properly protect you?
” Immediately, the air in the car plummets.
From the corner of my eye, I see the slow turn of Dread’s head toward my direction, and my adrenaline surges.
Barry continues, “And, no, not like that fucking cheese-puff-for-brains Officer Nichols, but someone truly capable.”
When Barry and I finally spoke after the night Dread kidnapped me, I may have accidentally let it slip that Officer Nichols was an idiot who would sooner catch his own tail than an ingenious serial killer.
I’m pretty sure that cop is on desk duty now.
“I understand what you’re saying, I do,” I say.
“But I can promise you, Dread is far more motivated to keep me safe than whoever you hire, and no one in this world would be happier to confront Lionel than him. And Rogue and Severen would rather die than let anything happen to me purely because of Dread.”
I can feel his desperation to keep fighting with me, but ultimately, he sighs, and begrudgingly mutters, “Fine.”
I release a relieved exhale. Or, at least, I think it’s relief. I’m having trouble discerning what exactly I feel. Terrified? Anxious? Foreboding? Hopeful?
Getting confirmation the lockbox is very real and still out there somewhere is massive.
For the first time since Lionel went to prison, it feels like there’s actually a shred of hope Barry can properly get justice for all of Lionel’s victims. However, knowing there were two serial killers out there was bad enough.
Knowing they’re possibly working with others, too, is… a lot. It’s really just a fucking lot.
“This is a lot.”
Without looking away from the windshield, Dread instantly grabs my wrist. My heart drops, thinking he’s going to take the phone from me to talk to Barry, and I quickly trade it into my right hand.
But he proves me wrong when he threads his fingers through mine again and rests our joined hands against my thigh.
The sight does something really weird to my insides, and I’m grateful when Barry’s voice draws me back to the conversation and away from the havoc Dread so casually inflicts on my brain.
“I know. I’m sorry, Rev,” Barry says gently. “Aside from your safety being a huge concern, Lionel confirming he still has evidence somewhere is a good thing. I just need to figure out who’s all helping Lionel, and things will unravel from there. Accomplices always talk.”
“I hope so,” I murmur, my thoughts drifting to the limitless possibilities of who could be helping Lionel.
The copycat is either someone Lionel knew before he went to prison or someone he met very soon after, but my gut tells me Lionel would’ve known them before prison for him to trust them so implicitly.
Both my parents were only children, and their parents are all dead, so I have no other family to speak of.
I’m sure Lionel had work friends, but no one significant enough to bring them around his wife and kid.
I don’t have any memories of either of my parents having close friends like that.
Lionel obviously had a life outside of home that I wasn’t aware of, but my mom…
her entire world revolved around him. When he wasn’t home, she was waiting for him to come home.
“Until then, keep this under wraps. We don’t want the public to know the Locksmith has potential accomplices lingering in Colorado. We don’t want to cause any hysteria.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I need to get back, but I love you, honey,” he says softly. Before I can respond, his voice hardens as he threatens, “Kellan, I expect you to protect her. If you don’t, I promise I will find a reason to put you behind bars.”
My cheeks burn, and I’m not sure how I feel about a father figure threatening Dread like he’s my boyfriend.
Never mind that the world thinks he is. It’s still odd.
“If anything happened to her, I’d let you do a lot worse to me,” Dread responds, his tone mild while he continues to stare straight ahead.
Aside from the blip of him being offended by Barry’s comment about not being able to protect me, I still haven’t gotten a read on what he’s thinking or feeling.
“Okay, back to work. I love you, too, Barry,” I say quickly.
I hang up before he can respond to either of us. I don’t know why, but Barry and Dread speaking to one another about keeping me safe feels too weird right now, especially when I haven’t processed that Dread even likes me yet, let alone loves me.
“If the only way to love you is to drown, then I won’t hold my breath, Reverie. I’ll inhale you and keep you safe inside me.”
The reminder of those words has my stomach flipping wildly. It’s not a bad feeling, but it’s extremely overwhelming and intense and oh God—I’m already descending into a panic attack.
Clearing my throat, I pull out my hand from his for a second time and promptly ignore his burning stare as it sears through the side of my head. I’m trying to calm my heart rate down, but that’s really fucking hard to do when the dickhead is just staring at me.
His empty hand slumps on my thigh, so I give it an awkward little pat. “Thanks for your service.”
And then, I turn toward the window, because I’m really fucking embarrassed now, and I hate myself and my life.
He chuckles but removes it from my lap so he can start the car. The tension is thick as he pulls out of the overgrown driveway.
We have forty-five minutes of this, and I don’t think I’m going to survive.