Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
GHOST
I stayed away for longer than I should have. My mistake is wholly apparent as soon as I step through the front door to find Rupert alert and standing in front of the entrance. It’s so different from his usual behavior that I go on high alert and proceed to check the house for anything amiss. When I step into the computer lab and find my father’s head lying on the floor, I know she’s gone.
My knees buckle as I struggle to breathe—the air in this house is no longer filled with delicate notes of Brett, but of acrid formaldehyde and death. I reach up to my face, prying the mask away with shaking fingers as I slide to the floor, my lungs still refusing to work .
She’s gone. Gone, gone, gone.
There’s a massive black cavity where my heart used to be, shooting tendrils of pain down to the marrow of my bones. It’s a deep ache, and if given the chance, I’d open my rib cage and claw out that cancerous part causing all this hurt. Rupert places his head in my lap with a whine, and I run my fingers through his fur, desperate to feel something—anything—-other than this pain.
I raise my head, fixing my eyes on the window and focusing on taking deep, even breaths. I’ve lost my mind—I know I have. And if I don’t find a way to dissociate from this sensation, I won’t ever be able to come back. My mind will fracture, splinter into a million tiny pieces, and I won’t have the will to glue them back together. Not again. Never again.
Something small and black catches the corner of my eye by the desk. It shoots across the room faster than I can blink, and I stay perfectly still when it lunges for me, sinking its claws deep in the front of my jacket.
“ Venom, ” I breathe, reaching a shaking hand down to his head, hoping a few appeasing pets will be enough to get him to release me. Venom lowers his ears, pointy white canines bared as he looses a mighty hiss. What are you doing here? He seems to say. And what the fuck have you done with my mom?
I gaze down at the ferocious fuzzball, my hazy mind desperately trying to piece things together. Brett left Venom here—something she would never do if she was leaving for good. She loves the little asshole more than life itself, and the fact he’s here means she intended to come back. To come home.
Just as the ache in my chest begins to subside, I have the most horrible realization: she went to show someone the notebook. And if I know Brett, it’s the only person she mildly trusts apart from me—Jim Peterson.
In less than a minute, I have Rupert's Kevlar dog vest strapped tight, the saddle bags loaded down with all the ammunition and tools I’ll need. The things necessary to save Brett’s life.
“Come on, Rupert,” I call, fitting my mask into place before racing out the front door with the massive white dog hot at my heels. There’s a murderous gleam in his eyes as he jumps into the car, amplified by the slight snarl pulling his lips up, baring his throat-rippers to the world. I press my wrist to the dash, and the engine roars to life as I pull up the location of Peterson’s house. As I peel off into the mouth of the forest, there’s only one thing on my mind.
God-fucking-dammit, Brett. You better be alive by the time I make it there.
This whole city burns if you’re not.