Page 55 of Liar
I went straight into my bedroom, dropping the bags onto my bed and emptying their contents. My eyes roamed across them. A pad of paper, wrapped in plastic, unused. A capped pen that screamed rich, which I’d wrap his unconscious hand around for fingerprints, along with one other thing, the bulkiest thing.
I’d forced Sabrina to write that note at knifepoint. My adrenaline had been coursing through my veins so fast that I neglected to think of the possibility that everyone would assume D. Briggs meant Declan and not the dean of Hillcrest. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I’d write the damned note myself. Just a quick, simple message. It would get the point across.
The last item I bought tonight, and quite a few feet of it, was rope. Thick and strong, I’d make good use of it.
Oh, it would be poetic, how Sawyer would draw his last breath. He’d die the same way his sister did, and the Salvatores would effectively have no heir. No heir to their throne of lies and deceit. Fine by me. So many in this world didn’t deserve what they had, and that family was one of them.
Maybe I was a monster. Maybe this darkness inside of me had only grown the older I became. The more of a need I had to protect those I loved, the more the beast inside needed to be unleashed.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one of those freaks who thought their inner darkness was a separate entity, something that came out and controlled me. Behind every action, I stood. I was to blame, as much as anyone could be blamed for such things. In my eyes, I simply did the work that had to be done. The things no one else wanted to touch.
Sabrina’s loss didn’t end the world. My father’s loss didn’t, either. Mom was a regrettable mistake, but I’d learned from her. Sawyer’s death would be the start of the final reckoning, the beginning of the end of this sick and twisted tale.
I would do only what I had to. Some might call my reactions over the top, but I didn’t care. I could see no way else out of this. No other way to protect Ash from making a huge mistake when it came to Sawyer. Sawyer’s crimes could not be forgiven. He would meet his end, and when he did, he would look his death in the eyes and realize that he’d wasted his few, precious years on this earth. I’d make sure he knew it was me before he died. I wanted him to realize just how much he fucked up.
Five of us would go to this cabin, but only four of us would leave it alive.
Chapter Twenty – Ash
“This is because of a boy, isn’t it?” My mom’s voice was almost shrill on the other line, and I had to hold my phone away from my head. I also had to actually walk back from class instead of skate—talk about annoying. The past two weeks, Helen Bonds just couldn’t let it go. Practically every day she was calling me, trying to get in my head and ‘see where I’m at.’
I loved her, I did, but she could be a little overbearing.
It wasn’t the first time she’d asked me that question, either. I mean, I was on a campus surrounded by dicks. Of course it was going to be about a boy.
Still, though, I said, “It’s not because of a boy.” Not a boy, anyway. More than one? Yes, definitely, but I’d rather cut off my own foot than tell my mom that.
Oops. Probably not the best thing to joke about, considering what happened to Brooklyn.
You know…I’d been so wrapped up the current state of my life that I didn’t have time to linger much on what happened to her, or what I saw. Which was good. That sight was not something I ever wanted to repeat or see again.
Not a fan of blood.
“It’s because of a boy,” Mom harrumphed on the other line. “Will you at least tell me where you’re going? The address, his full name. License plate would help, too. Just in case—”
I knew where she was going with this. “Nothing’s going to happen, Mom. I promise.”
“I’m sure all those girls that went missing in Midtown said the same thing,” she said. “And that guy was let off, of all the things…” My mom, talking about Ray. Not a topic of conversation I wanted to have. “Just, please, honey. Humor me. I promise I won’t come stalking you. You’re an adult and…” It sounded like she had to pause to swallow, as if this next part was difficult for her to say, “I trust you. Who I don’t trust is everyone else. You never know what people are hiding these days.”
Oh, I knew all about that. Again, something my mom didn’t need to know.
“I’ll text you everything, okay?” My dorm building appeared in the distance, and I told her, “I’m back at the dorm. I gotta go, Mom. Have to pack.” Which wasn’t a lie. We were leaving tomorrow. Two more midterms to go. I had everything under control.
It was nice, having my life under control, for once.
“Goodbye, honey. Have fun,” Helen spoke begrudgingly. “And don’t forget—”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you all of the info, I promise. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hung up, choosing to skate the rest of the way.
My dorm room was extra full now. Two huge suitcases sat on the floor between the two beds—Briggs suitcases, one of which I’d commandeered since all I owned were holey bags and boxes. The other was Declan’s, and it was mostly packed. Mine, however, lacked everything. Mostly because I didn’t know what I wanted to bring.
I settled for climbing onto my bed and looking up the weather for Beacon Hills in the next week. Temperate. A bit of rain here and there, but that could be expected for March. The lows were fifties, at night, but daytime temperatures would be comfortable in the mid-sixties and even low seventies.
I supposed just to be safe I should pack some jeans along with shorts. Pajamas, my new bathing suit. All that fun stuff.
