Page 110 of Riot House
Doctor Fitzpatrick shakes his head violently. He presses the heel of his hand against his forehead, screwing his eyes shut, which is when I see the massive bowie knife he’s clutching in his hand. How thefuckdid I not notice that before? The blade glints maddeningly in the moonlight that lances down through the canopy of the trees into the clearing.
Doctor Fitzpatrick’s top lip pulls up, disgust radiating off him as he lurches toward us, pointing the tip of the knife at my face. Carina shrieks right next to my ear, but I…don’t…blink…
“He didn’tsaythat,” he spits. “He’d never say that. He can’t. Wren’s not capable of loving a girl likeyou. He needs more than stupid, silly dresses and scruffy Doc Martin boots, and dumb debate questions. There’s just no way.”
There’s no way the man standing in front of me is sane. He can’t be. No one in their right mind would be aiming a knife that size in someone’s face and ranting the way he’s ranting if they had even the weakest grasp on reality. I should say something to placate him, but that’s a dangerous game. Such a fine line to try and tightrope walk, and Doctor Fitzpatrick is a high-functioning madman. He has to be to have fooled the world for this long.
I realize something, as I’m about to speak, though. “Wait. That knife. I recognize that knife. That’s the knife that I found sticking out of my bed!”
Fitz laughs, tossing his head back. “God, you’re so fucking self important, aren’t you? Oh my bed. My precious books. My things. Wah wah wah. Dean Harcourt left it in the drawer of her desk, so I took it back. I’ve had this knife a very long time, y’know. I didn’t really feel like letting her keep it for good.”
“Why thehelldid you trash my room?”
The doctor growls, inching closer. “I didn’t have a choice, did I? That room sat empty for months, but then you came along. I still hadn’t found Mara’s stupid journal or Wren’s sweater. It was only a matter of time before you stumbled across them and started asking questions. So I tore everything apart. I looked high and low. I would have found them, too, but then you came back to your room. I could hear you on the phone complaining about your father in the stairwell, and I bolted.”
“God, you aresofucked up,” Carina mumbles.
I’m still processing all of this, but the muddled pieces of information that were making my head hurt all begin to snap together. “You’rethe one she wrote about in her journal. Not Wren.You’rethe one she was afraid of.”
The English teacher grins, twisting the knife in his hand so that the light bounces off its serrated teeth. “I may have messed with her a little, I admit. She wasn’t my type, but it was fun tricking her into thinking I wanted to be with her. I just wanted her to stay the hell away from Wren, but…” He shrugs, chuckling softly. “She was so fucking gullible. Not like you, eh, Elodie. No, you’re smart. Pointless putting it all together now, though. It’s far too late for that.”
47
WREN
“Whoa!Where’s your mask? I thought you were hot as hell as a wolf, Jacobi.”
It’s just my miserable luck that the first person I stumble across in the forest is Damiana. There are five reg flags tied around her wrist. Her slinky naughty nurse outfit looks like it’s going to fall off her any second. It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle she hasn’t fallen down a ravine and snapped her neck in the white stilettos she’s wearing. She rubs her hands over my chest, purring like a satisfied cat. “Never mind. I don’t care about the mask. Doesn’t matter. You still caught me. Now I’m yours for…” she purses her lips, “…however long you want me.”
“Stop, Dami.”
She lunges, trying to kiss me.
“Jesus, fuckingstop!I’m looking for Elodie. Have you seen her?”
Her pleased look turns sour. “Fuck Elodie, Wren. How many times do you need to hear it? I a—”
I leave her in the dark, flying into the forest, my pulse racing so fast I’m shaking all over. She’s got to be around here somewhere. Turns out a two-mile radius is a really fucking massive area of land, though, and I’m not having much luck finding anyone useful in the dark. I check my cell phone, hoping and praying to god that there’ll be a message from Elodie, but I only have one bar of reception and—scratch that. I have zero bars of reception, and I doubt anyone else has any either.
What a fucking disaster.
This situation could not get any worse right now.
But then, typically, thirty seconds later they do.
I blaze right into Mercy. She’s sitting on a fallen tree trunk, smoking a cigarette like it’s totally normal for her to be out by herself in a forest in the middle of the fucking night. She’s dressed in a red and white cheerleader uniform, her hair in pigtails, makeup smeared all down her face. I think she’s supposed to be some sort of zombie. She doesn’t even look surprised when she looks and sees me.
“S’up, big brother. Enjoying your little game?” She blows twin jets of smoke down her nose.
“Elodie’s out here somewhere. I’ve gotta find her.”
“Huh.There’sa shocker.”
“I don’t have time to trade punches with you right now. Just tell me if you’ve seen her.”
Her eyebrow curves. She takes another drag from her cigarette. “Why would I tell you, even if I had? You’ve been quite terrible to me recently, Wren.”
I feel like fucking screaming. “You know perfectly well why I’m mad at you! This entire mess is your fucking fault!”
