Page 113 of Trapper Road

I spin to find Mandy. Vee hovers behind her.

Mandy’s eyes flick over Willa. She bares her teeth. “What did you do to her?”

I start to raise my hands, prepared to drop the knife. “I didn’t—”

Mandy starts toward me. Her fingers are curled into claws, ready to tear me apart. It’s clear her intent is to attack.

I have to protect Willa. I step half in front of her and jerk the knife up. “Stay where you are!”

Mandy pulls up short. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Tears pool in her eyes as she glances toward her friend. “Willa.” Her voice cracks. “Willa tell me you’re okay.”

“Don’t talk to her,” I spit.

Mandy refocuses on me. “You monster,” she growls. There’s venom in the word. If she could slice me to shreds, she would without hesitation. “What did you do?”

I jerk back, stunned. “Me?”

Her eyes narrow. “Willa told me you were obsessed with her. She told me she was scared of you.”

Nothing she’s saying makes any sense. My mind spins, trying to figure out what’s going on. “What are you talking about? It’syoushe’s afraid of. And for good reason!”

Mandy gasps and staggers back a step. She presses a hand to her chest as though physically injured. “I’d never hurt her. She’s my best friend.”

I spin to face Willa. “Tell them,” I say, gesturing to Mandy and Vee. I don’t realize I’m still clutching the knife until I watch Willa’s eyes focus on the blade. She shrinks back, wincing.

She’s afraid of me.

I don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense.

“Willa.” I say her name like a plea, needing her to tell me Mandy’s wrong. To tell me she’s never been afraid of me.

She swallows, her voice rasping as she says, “Don’t hurt me, please.”

I stagger back a step. Her words lodge in my chest, robbing me of breath. Everything goes topsy turvy. I thought Willa liked me. I thought she more than liked me.

I’ve gotten it all wrong.

It’s just like with Kevin. I thought he was a good guy. I thought he was my best friend. I thought I knew him. But in the end, all of it was a lie. I knew nothing about him, not really. And the first opportunity he had, he threw me under the bus. He doesn’t give one shit about me.

I don’t understand how I can keep getting it so wrong. How I keep finding people who I think care about me only to find out it’s a lie.

“But I didn’t do this to you. I wasn’t the one to tie you up. You know that.”

She shakes her head.

Even now she looks at me as though I’m a monster.

Everything I thought I knew about myself crumbles. The moments I’ve spent with Willa spin through my head as I struggle to understand how I misinterpreted the situation. How did I not see her fear? How could I have been so blind?

I thought I was a good guy, a good person.

“I didn’t—” I whisper. But I don’t know what I’m trying to say. “I don’t…”

I’m so focused on Willa and my own inner turmoil that I don’t register the movement until too late. It’s Mandy, lunging toward me. Going for the knife. Her fingers wrap around my wrist, nails digging into my flesh.

I’ve been drilled in self-defense since the day my mother picked me up from grandmother’s house after she was acquitted. I’ve spent years going through drills, repeating the motions again and again until they became second nature. Until I could act without thought — just pure survival instinct.

I know without a doubt that if Mandy gets control of the knife she won’t hesitate to plunge it into my chest. Her expression is rage, her eyes wild and crazed. I jerk my wrist toward me, pulling Mandy off balance. I use her momentum to spin, flinging her off me. She stumbles, crashing against the wall hard enough that the old plaster cracks. She doesn’t hesitate before launching herself at me again.

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