“Dammit, pick up!” I growled into the phone as I dialed Peyton for the third time. He still hadn’t gotten back to me, and I had some crucial information that I was dying to tell him. It wasn’t like him to be completely out of touch like this, and I had to ask him about what I’d learned.
Turns out I’d been completely wrong the whole time. All this time I thought I’d been searching for the boss of the Iron Angels. Then I’d talked to some junkies and a bar owner and realized that the killer wasn’t the leader of the Iron Angels at all. Instead, it was The Manticore, a gang member who had supposedly disappeared a few years ago. My blood boiled as I thought about how stupid I’d been to waste so much energy on the wrong person.
The phone cut to voicemail and I threw at the wall angrily. I watched with dull eyes as the screen cracked down the middle. Peyton never iced me out like this. In frustration, I clenched my hands into fists and drove them into the wall.
“Dammit, Peyton.” I cursed under my breath with a low growl. I steeled my resolve, putting my shattered phone in my pocket and hiking out to the parking lot. My car was sitting alone, looking eerily out of place. Yanking open the driver’s side door, I slid in and jammed the key in the ignition. I didn’t think he was ignoring me on purpose, but there was always the chance that he was passed out in some haze of junk-induced stupor.
The drive out to his shitty hideaway seemed to take longer than usual. There was a knot in my stomach forming the whole time. Something didn’t seem right to me. It wasn’t exactly that I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t have my usual sense of security. Even though I’d been on edge for the past few weeks, I’d still felt confident about keeping Lily—and myself—safe. Now, though, I wasn’t sure; somehow it felt like a completely different ball game.
As usual, the parking lot by the hideaway was empty. The only activity was coming from the shitty Chinese food restaurant on the corner, and I could already feel the grease soaking into my pores. I shuddered as I remembered the look on Lily’s face when I’d first brought her here. I thought she was going to resist and fight me, but she just looked sad and alone. I’d felt bad about hurting her.
Dammit, Zed! This is no time to be thinking about Lily!
Peyton didn’t answer when I pounded on the door. The rusty hinges bounced against the frame with the effort. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my shoulders and thrust against the door hard. It resisted, and my shoulder slammed into the cheap wood. Lowering my head, I crouched and butted the door open with all of my strength. It slammed against the back wall of the apartment, sending wood splinters flying across the room.
The place was a sty. It looked even worse than it had when I’d first shown up with Lily. At least then there had been some semblance of normalcy, even if it was just the normalcy of a man living in a stupor. But now it looked like it had been torn apart by multiple people.
The mattress was flipped on its side, and a jagged cut showed from one corner to the opposite. The stuffing was falling out, and some rusty springs were poking through the stained fabric. There had been a cheap plastic nightstand which was now broken into pieces and scattered around the room.
There were empty little baggies everywhere, and I shook my head. It was hard to believe that of all people, Peyton would choose to lose his mind and go on a junk binge strong enough to tear the room apart. If he needed money or more smack, he could have always come to me. That was our agreement; it was part of him helping me out.
But this was just ridiculous. I rubbed a hand over the stubble growing on my chin and growled. Slowly, I started to realize the lack of personal effects. There wasn’t even a rusty can of shaving cream in the bathroom, much less a wallet. I picked through the piles of shredded paper and trash all over the broken kitchen table; there was nothing at all that could have been used to identify Peyton.
Sniffing the air, I smelled both stale smoke and that faint mildew odor. Oddly, there was no rotten food. Throwing open the fridge, I was surprised to see that it was completely empty. There wasn’t any food, not even empty takeout containers from next door.
Frowning, I glanced around behind me. It seemed weird that Peyton would trash the place, then meticulously clean the fridge and decide to bounce. It wasn’t like him, and it definitely didn’t fit the state of the rest of the apartment. I groaned and started digging through the kitchen trash. Again, it was more of the same: shredded and ripped papers, destroyed notes that just looked like gibberish when held up to the light…
A cold shiver of fear ran down my spine for the first time since entering Peyton’s hideaway. My gut felt cold, and I shook my head in an attempt to clear the feeling. Suddenly I knew Peyton wouldn’t be coming back here. It was cleaned and trashed of any attempt possible to identify who the owner had been. My hands started to shake as I looked down and realized that now my fingerprints were everywhere. Now it was me they were going to be looking for.
“Zed,” Lily said in her grating, perky voice. “Zed, listen, I think you might want to listen to me! Some of the information I have is important!”
“I’m busy,” I growled out. Lily pouted and reached forward to tug on my sleeve. “Zed, I really think you’ll want to hear this,” she said quietly. “Don’t you want to listen to me? I think I can help you.”
“Sorry, Lily, I don’t have to get any help from library books,” I said dismissively. I watched as she angrily balled one of her hands into a delicate fist and punched me in the arm. It barely registered as a sensation, and I had a hard time trying not to laugh it off.
“Zed,” Lily squealed. “This is important! I saw Peyton had this kind of creepy-looking knife with a handle that looked like a carved animal!”
I shook my head again. “Lily, don’t,” I growled out without listening to her. She’d kept droning on and on until I finalize roared at her to be quiet. After that, she’d shut up.
A wave of nausea passed over me as I remembered Lily’s exact words: “creepy-looking knife with a handle that looked like a carved animal.”
The air whooshed out of my chest, and suddenly I felt incredibly lightheaded. The stuffiness in Peyton’s hideaway was too much, and I made my way to the door, clutching the walls. This couldn’t be right, I couldn’t possibly be right. Something was very, very wrong.
Closing my eyes, I tried to remember exactly everything that Lily had told me. Fucking hell, I wish I’d listened to her. With shaky fingers, I tried to dial her number. The sweat from my hands made my phone slippery, and I dropped it on the ground, cursing out loud. My heart was pounding faster and faster, and I groped on the sticky floor for my phone, feeling years of grime and muck under my fingers.
Grabbing my phone, I staggered towards the exit and threw open the door. The air outside stunk of the grease from the fast food place. I knew I had to find Lily now; she was the only chance I had left.
The drive to Lily’s house was mercifully free of traffic, but it seemed to take twice as long. I kept calling her—the phone would ring and ring with no answer. I knew in the pit of my stomach that she wouldn’t be there, but I had to try. When I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, I didn’t see her car anywhere.
Shit, she’s not going to be here, I realized as I was jogging up the stairs and towards her front door. I yelled her name, but there was no answer. Pounding on the door, I screamed her name until my throat cracked.
I knew it then with absolute certainty: Peyton wasn’t my friend. Peyton was The Manticore. It had been him all along.