Chapter 24 #2
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I grin.
Putting the body back on the table, I head up and help Dad clean my Jeep. I mean, I did cause the mess, it’s only fair.
Once that's done, he helps me load her into the trunk.
He takes off, but I head back in to change out of my costume and into my Butterfly Killer get-up.
“Ready for another road trip?” I ask her, knowing it’s going to be around four in the morning by the time I get home. “I’m going to play music to help keep me awake. Don’t worry, it’s not Ashnikko again.” I roll my eyes. “Still don’t understand how you don’t like her.”
Scrolling through a different playlist, I chose the song Opalite by Taylor Swift as I pull out from the back entrance of the morgue and onto the main road that leads to the highway.
“I love this song!” I shout before I start to sing along.
An hour or so later, I’m back to where I hit Rebecca.
“We need to make this quick. I don’t want anyone catching me.
And I’m tired as fuck. Good thing it’s the weekend.
There’s no way I’m not sleeping in tomorrow morning.
Or is it this morning? You’re more work than you’re worth, but this is needed. ”
Getting out of the Jeep, I make my way to the back.
“Photo time.” I grab her hair, holding up her head. “Smile!” I take the photo, making sure only to get our faces and nothing else, before I let her head drop back to the trunk. Shaking out the photo, I place it to the side to deal with her.
Not feeling like dragging her heavy body, I roll it out, letting it drop to the ground with a hard thud.
I push her a few more times, rolling her body to the side of the street.
I go back and grab the photo, as well as the butterfly. “There we go.” I place it on her lips with double-sided sticky tape and tuck the photo into her shirt. “All done. I gotta get going. Long drive back. But you take it easy, you hear? Byeeeee.” I wave as I head back to the Jeep.
Pulling away from the side of the road, I turn around and head back towards New Orleans.
As fun as tonight was, I’m over it. This girl needs sleep.
I’ve never had a hangover before, but from what the internet says, electrolytes and foods that aren't heavy on the stomach should help cure one. So on my way to Callie’s house, I grabbed Gatorade and some avocado toast that I know Callie likes from the cafe down the street.
When I woke up this morning—or more like afternoon—I texted her asking how she was doing. I didn’t see the text she sent that she got home safe until after I dropped Rebecca off.
Her reply was a photo of her with her face buried in her pillow, looking like death. Poor girl. Another reason why I don’t see the use for drinking.
You feel great for the moment, but the end result is much worse than before.
I’d be cool with trying weed, though. From what I’ve read, you don’t get any lingering side effects.
Oh no, I’ll get the munchies and take a nap, the horror.
As I walk up to Callie’s house, I pause, chewing on my lip. Callie said she wasn’t sure if the guys were home or not, and she wasn’t leaving her bed to check.
I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself.
The perks of being besties with Callie is now I have the code to their house. No that doesn’t mean I can just come over whenever I want without Callie being here; they still have cameras in the front and back.
It just means more chances of running into the guys.
After what happened at the party, I want to see how much more I can push them. I want to get a rise out of them.
I’ve stopped stammering in front of them, no more blushing like a damn burnt lobster. Now I want to see just how far I can go.
Putting the code into the gate, it opens for me. I make sure it’s closed before heading up to the front door. This one has another code, which I know as well.
Once I’m inside, I look around and listen for any signs that the guys are here. Only I’m met with nothing.
Having no excuse for why I’d be looking around the house, I head up the stairs to Callie’s room.
“Knock knock.” I knock on the door, slowly opening it just in case she’s indecent.
“Shhhh,” she groans. “Not so loud.”
Chuckling, I step inside and find her buried under a pile of blankets.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, trying not to smile.
“Like death,” she mutters into the pillow.
“I brought offerings.”
“What kind?”
“Avocado toast and Gatorade.”
“What kind of Gatorade?” she questions.
“Strawberry lemonade?”
“Okay,” she sighs. “You can come in.”
“I’m glad,” I laugh, moving to join her on the bed.
She unravels herself from her blanket burrito and sits up slowly.
“You look rough,” I point out, getting a good look at her.
She slowly turns her head towards me, her messy hair covering half her face as she shoots me a death glare.
“Love you, too,” she grumbles, snatching the bottle out of my hand. “I bet your night ended better than mine.”
“How did yours end?” I ask.
“With my head in the toilet."
“I’m sorry, babe. If I were there, I’d have held your hair back,” I tell her sympathetically.
“I said I don’t want you seeing me puke,” she mutters. “Plus, Gary did it for me.”
My brows shoot up. “Garrett stayed after he brought you home?”
“Not because I wanted him to,” she huffs. “He was convinced I’d choke to death on my puke in my sleep.”
“I mean, it is very possible,” I tell her. “Wait, you’ll let him see you puke but not me?”
“I don’t like him,” she argues. “He doesn't matter.”
Oh, I feel like he does. But I won’t say anything.
“Now, tell me about your night.”
“So after you left, I went to go find Rebeca, but after searching for her for a while, I had no luck.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“But!” I tease enthusiastically. “As I was driving home, guess who was hitchhiking for a ride back to town?”
Her eyes fill with the slightest signs of life. “Did you kidnap her?”
“No,” I chuckle. “Even better. I ran her over.”
Callie’s jaw drops. “You did not!”
“I did.” I nod, grinning like an idiot. “You should have seen her fly, Callie.”
“I’m so mad I missed that,” she pouts. “You don’t bring me on murder dates. I feel like that should be mandatory.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I grin. I really do love this girl.
“What did you do after you hit her?”
“I brought her back to the morgue, stitched her up because the girl was in rough shape, then brought her back. Now I’m just waiting for the news to announce that the Butterfly Killer has struck again.
I’ve been checking, but so far nothing. I’m sure it’s still too soon.
I bet her body was found this morning during the morning work rush. ”
“You get to have all the fun,” she huffs, leaning her head against my shoulder as she takes bites of her toast. “I wanna kill people, too.”
“No one’s stopping you,” I tell her. “Anyone particular in mind?”