Page 127 of Lady Killer

My taciturn brother growled.

“Don’t worry, Ali, he didn’t get that far,” she said quickly, a rare look of genuine concern gracing her face as she sought to reassure him.

“He was more like Aaron, always around, trying to befriend me . . . Only there was no Autumn for him to use to get close to me.” She sighed.

“For the longest time, he just tried to talk to me. And when he asked me out, I said no. He told me he would get me to change my mind. I said I wouldn’t, and I didn’t.” She shrugged before picking up the crucifix that hung around her neck to play with.

“Asher took my lack of interest like a challenge, and over time, he got bolder, more aggressive. He started showing up at my cousin’s house, following me to and from school.” She twirled the cross in her fingers.

“Then he showed up at the nursing home where I volunteered.” Something dark flashed in her eyes.

“It was late—I had stayed past my normal hours to help one of the aides clean up after a party we’d held for theresidents. Asher was there, waiting for me in the parking lot.”

She spun the cross faster. “He offered me a ride, and I said no, for what had to have been the hundredth time. It must have been one time too many because he finally snapped and shed his nice-guy facade.”

She turned back to Locke as she continued her confession, her gaze cold and hard. “He grabbed me and threw me up against his car, before slapping me across the face. He said he was tired of me playing games . . .”

The cross stopped spinning, and she shook her head as if waking up from a dream. She looked at me and frowned.

“I can still taste the blood in my mouth, you know?”

Frozen, I said nothing. Did nothing.

Because I did know.

When I didn’t respond, she shook her head again before continuing her story. “So I nodded along obediently when he told me to get into the car. I didn’t argue when he said that we were going out on Friday night.

“Numb with fear, I climbed into the car with him, terrified I might have to kill him then and there.” She looked at me. “I didn’t have a plan, yet. I needed time.”

That I could understand.

“He drove me back to my cousins’, kissed me good night, and told me he was excited for our date . . . Ithink”—she paused, considering her words—“I think he really thought he’d won.”

I looked over at Everest, certain I would find murder in his eyes, but his expression remained curiously blank.

“Asher’s death was harder to figure out. I had some drugs I’d swiped from the nursing home but no fentanyl, unfortunately.”

How had she gotten her hands on a highly controlled opioid?

“The best I could do was triazolam, which wound up being a blessing in disguise because I was able to grind it up into the bottle of cheap whiskey I brought on our date. He was more than happy to drive out somewhere private with me, eager to take swigs from a bottle that never did more than touch my lips.”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

“We made out, and every time he touched me, I soothed myself with the notion he would soon be dead.”

That he was already dead was probably the only reason the men around me weren’t calling for his blood.

“The drug combined with the alcohol worked quickly, and it wasn’t long before he was more or less . . . pliant. I crawled to sit on his lap and drove us in the direction of his house, taking the back roads. I took us to the more rural lands on the other side of where he lived. There was amassive substation out there, and then it was just a matter of setting up the steering wheel and putting a brick on the gas.

“He crashed headfirst into an electrical pole. When I opened the door to take the brick out, I realized that unfortunately, he was still alive. But a quick tinkering with the fuel line and a match had the car alight, and that was the end of Asher.”

Nixon growled appreciatively.

“When the police came by to let me know he had passed away, I recounted him acting out of it and drinking during our date. I let them know how relieved I’d been when he dropped me off at home earlier that night. With the bag of pills I’d planted in Asher’s car, along with the booze, the police were more than happy to accept that his death was a tragic accident resulting from driving while under the influence.”

Luz looked thoughtful. “A couple of days later, I got my early acceptance to Hollow Oak.”

If I wasn’t careful, Everest would run away with her to Vegas and get married.

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