Page 63 of False Idols

“Hey, come on!” There’s another bang at the door and it rattles in its frame. Interesting. I cut the water but don’t bother grabbing a towel. The bathroom has been run through at this point, so it’s just as dirty as Ali was. I wipe my palms on my thighs and unlock the door. It swings open and there’s a big guy there. The type that lifts heavy and tells everyone about it. A crossfitter or something. He looks pissed, but the second he sees me he stops.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, brother.”

What the fuck is it with everyone calling me brother?

I nod at him. “No problem, man.” I walk out of the bathroom and into the hallway. The party is still in full swing, but there’s no reason for me to stay here. Nevaeh’s gone. I’m done. I stride through the room and out into the cool evening air. It’s been a fucking hell of a night and it’s barely even past midnight. My father used to have a saying that nothing good happens after midnight and it’s true, so I start walking home.

The evening air is cool and calm. There’s no students running past me or people screaming and laughing this time when I walk towards campus. It’s nice. The street is quiet and winds down towards campus at a gentle slope that will end near the dorms. I have to go past there to get to my apartment, but I’ll make sure to swing past Nevaeh’s dorm on my way. I haven’t had much time to myself since I got out of prison. My only thought since I’ve been back in Bloom has been Nevaeh. I haven’t taken the time to settle. I do it now and unpack the last couple of hours of the night.

Nevaeh said she loved me and I got Ali off in a room full of strangers. Interesting way to end a Thursday evening that started when I killed someone an hour ago. Or maybe it was longer, I don’t know. Haven’t been paying attention to much other than the door to watch for Nevaeh.

I didn’t have to wait long after I’d taken a seat in the best spot in the house—the couch sitting the furthest back in the living room. I’d been sitting for maybe a minute or two before Nevaeh wandered in with her roommate in tow. Funny to think Jordan’s body was still warm and Nevaeh was getting drunk off some sugary shit in the kitchen. Ali came by a few minutes later and like I knew she would be, she was all over me. Even though I knew it was for Jordan, it was believable. It made teaching Nevaeh a lesson easier. I’m not into girls that fight me. I only like it when Nevaeh fights me, but she’s not like the others.

She’s my fucking girl. My filthy liar. Gorgeous, terrible fucking liar that’s bringing me to my knees.

“I love you, Beau. I always have.”

Nevaeh said that. It’s different when I’ve taunted her with her feelings for me because, deep down, I never believed them. How could she love me? She doesn’t even know me. And after all this time?

“I came here because I owed you. I did you wrong and this is my penance. Every terrible thing you, or anyone does to me because of what I did to you, I’ve earned.”

Penance. Nevaeh came to Bloom State to do penance. It makes hurting her feel cheap. The hunger I have for her isn’t the same anymore. It was manageable before, but after what she said? It’s unbearable now.

I’ll never be satisfied without Nevaeh.

She’s the only thing that will ever give me peace. I turn the corner and the campus comes into view. It’s all lit up like a fucking pretty picture. No one would ever guess there’s a sadistic monster roaming it, looking for girls to take apart, piece by fucking piece.

The Reaper.

It’s too quiet. I know he’s still out there. As much as I studied Nevaeh while I was in prison, I made sure to take the time to do the same with The Reaper. I wanted to understand him. The other inmates thought I was just up my own ass. Whatever. I learned a lot about how and when The Reaper kills. It’s always more than once and it’s never in the summer. It’s always during the school year and always around the holidays, but this is different.

He killed someone on the first day of school. He’s off his pattern and it has to be because of Nevaeh and me. We’re both here and whatever makes him tick is going fucking nuts. Why else would he have sent that knife to the cops? Carrie’s murder weapon all wrapped up pretty with a bow. He didn’t like that I was getting the credit for his kill, so he waited until he was ready.

He waited until we would be exactly where he wanted us. Where he wanted Nevaeh. She’s the only one that’s ever gotten away. Doesn’t matter if he didn’t try to kill her first. She was there. That puts a target on her back and my gut is telling me we don’t have much longer before he goes for her.

And when he does, I’ll be ready for him.

That motherfucker isn’t killing the girl I love again.

24

NEVAEH

When I leave the party I walk for a while. At first I was walking towards campus, but at some point I started wandering. I don’t know when I did it, but eventually I realize I’m not on the way to campus, I’m in a few neighborhoods behind all the Greek houses. All around me the houses are nicer than the ones in Jordan’s neighborhood. These are family homes with nicer lawns and perfectly trimmed hedges. I hear a sprinkler go on nearby and frown. It’s late. I need to get back to the dorms.

“Shit,” I whisper and spin in a circle, taking in my surroundings. It’s not a neighborhood I normally spend time in, but I know exactly where I am. Perks of living in a small town and all that. I take in a deep breath and then another and start walking back towards campus. I’m not that far off where I need to be. Maybe ten minutes and I’ll be back on the hill and on my way to campus. I rub my arms as I walk. It’s chillier now than it was earlier and the shirt I’m wearing is thin. I need to speed walk if I’m going to get warm, so I pick up the pace. That’s when I realize my shoe is untied. I huff under my breath before I stop and bend down to tie them. I don’t like being so still in the dark. The air is too quiet until I hear a pebble skip and skitter across the road. A prickle goes down my back when another pebble joins the first and the two of them end up bouncing in front of me. My hands freeze. It’s hard to breathe as I watch the pebbles bounce off into the darkness.

The road here is level. It’s not like the continuous slope the frat houses were on. Those rocks shouldn’t be rolling like they are. Someone kicked them. Someone behind me. Fear makes it hard to move. I remember this feeling. I’ve felt like this one other time in my life.

The night Carrie Salt died.

The night I thought The Reaper was going to kill me.

It’s him. I know it is even before I look. I can feel him. He’s darker than the night. The evil and hate that comes off of him could kill me alone if I let it. It chokes the air right out of my lungs and I can barely manage to turn my head to look. Why I look, I don’t fucking know. I should be running, not looking at the devil that I know is there. But I do, because I have to. It’s like my head turns all on its own and the second I see him standing there in the road it’s like I’m fourteen all over again.

The Reaper is big. He’s tall and the robe and hood he’s wearing reminds me of the pictures we saw monks wearing in our history books or in the illustrations Pastor Mike showed us during service when he talked about the history and the foundation Crown of Thorns was built on. But those monks had on brown or tan robes, sometimes white ones.

The Reaper wears black.

---