twenty-seven
“Is it really over?” Dylan asked, stroking a strand of hair off her forehead.
She rolled over on his bed to face him. “Not yet, but it will be soon.” The smile she flashed wasn’t forced or fake. She’d smiled more in the last month than she had in her entire life. Dylan made her happy. Her dad was finally paying attention to her. Even the kids at school were nicer. It was like she’d finally arrived. “He still hasn’t confessed to killing Lauren, but with the phone and what he did to me, they feel like they have enough of a case on him. And from what I’ve overheard, I don’t think he has an alibi for that night.”
“Were they able to find anything helpful on the phone?”
“No.” Her head swiveled back and forth. “It had been erased.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “I doubt there was anything in there about Mr. Packard.”
“True.”
“It’ll work out.” Harley smiled at him. “You’ll see.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, his hand sliding across her cheek. Leaning forward, he gently pressed his lips to hers. They were warm and tender, yet firm and insistent all at once. She responded to his kiss, moving her mouth in sync with his. Reaching up, she held tightly to him, gripping his shirt between her fingers. In his caress she tasted gratitude, but she also tasted relief. And she understood that. She felt the same way. It was like she could finally release all of the anger and bitterness she’d held for so long. When their lips parted, he dropped his forehead to hers and breathed out. Warmth tickled her skin.
“I should be the one thanking you,” she said, breathless.
“I’m just glad we finally got justice.” His eyes searched hers. “Now everyone who wronged us got what they deserved, and we can move on.” This time when his mouth moved over hers, her mind was a million miles away. Something about his words unnerved her. When he drew back, his expression was serious, contemplative. “Hey, what do you say we take off after graduation? Go start a life for ourselves far away from Fenton Falls.”
She twisted away from him. “I don’t want to move away. Not now.”
His expression hardened slightly, but there was still softness around the edges, as if his face were a photograph that was slightly out of focus. “Well, of course not now. I was talking about this summer.”
He didn’t get it. Sitting up, she scooted back, forcing his hand to slip from her face. His arm dropped like a dead weight by his side. “I can’t leave this summer either. Things are finally going well for me here. My dad and I are connecting for the first time in years. I had planned to stay and go to junior college. You should too.” With a grin, she reached for him, but he pulled away.
“I’m glad things are going so well for you, but my dad isn’t like yours.”
Confused, she cocked her head to the side. “I thought you said he’d been nicer lately.”
“Yeah.” He snorted bitterly. “Nicer than usual, but still a jerk.” His eyes narrowed into slits on his face. The color darkened. Harley’s heart pinched. She knew his dad was mean to him. She understood his pain. If only she could take it away. If only she could do what he was asking. “He’ll never stop being a jerk. Not until he’s dead,” he muttered.
A chill snaked up Harley’s spine. There were times in the last few years when Harley wished she was dead, but never her dad. She didn’t wish death on other people.
But it wasn’t Dylan’s words about his dad that bothered her the most. It was everything. The comments about people getting what they deserved, his desperation to leave town.
“Is your dad the only reason you want to leave?” She asked him.
He shook his head. “It’s everything. I just want out of here. I want to get away from it all. The memories, the people.” Moving closer to her, he snatched up one of her hands. She was grateful that some of his anger had dissipated. “Now that it’s all over and I know that I have a future, I want to spend it with you.”
It was an odd choice of words. “Why wouldn’t you have a future before?”
Seeming embarrassed, he dropped her hand and ran it through his hair in an agitated manner. “That’s not what I meant. I…I know I’m not making sense. I’m just happy…and I love you. I want us to be together. Is that so weird?”
“You love me?” It was the first time he’d said that.
Grinning, he nodded. “Sucks that it took you being tied up in a basement for me to realize it though.”
She giggled. “Sounds kinky.”
He laughed, and her earlier uneasiness vanished. This was nice. Most of their relationship had been serious. Plotting. Planning. Investigating. Lying. Even now it seemed tied to all that. She wanted to move on.
“I love you too,” she said, grinning.
“You do?”
“Yep.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she planted a kiss on his lips. His arms fastened around her middle, and he drew her close. Their heartbeats mingled as if their bodies had become one.
Moving away with Dylan wouldn’t be so bad. She did love him. He was the first boy she’d ever loved. The first boy who loved her back. One day they could leave Fenton Falls together. Just not yet. She needed more time here.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled away from him. “I think my dad’s texting. I told him I’d be home for dinner.” It was weird having to check in with her dad. To be home for dinner. She hadn’t had to do that in years. But she wasn’t complaining.
“But my parents are gone all night,” he said. “I thought we could spend some more time together.”
She felt torn. Alone time with Dylan sounded amazing. But all she’d ever wanted was more time with her dad. Now that she finally had it, she felt she had to take advantage.
“I’m sorry,” she answered apologetically. Giving him a quick peck, she added, “I’ll make it up to you.”
“You better.” He winked, and her stomach did a little flip.
Sliding off his bed, she padded over to where she’d discarded her tennis shoes next to his. When her gaze landed on the hole in his shoe, her gut twisted.
“They’re my old shoes. My new ones got ruined that morning…when we found her.”
When Harley read through all of the articles on Lauren’s death, there was one with a picture of Dylan and his sister the morning they discovered her body. He’d been wearing white high-tops, just like these.
Why hadn’t she made that connection before?
She shook her head. It was silly, that’s why. Lots of people bought the same shoes over and over again. She always got black converse. Maybe Dylan always purchased white high-tops.
Crouching down on the floor, she slid one of her feet into her shoes. “I love my Chucks,” she said as if she was making casual conversation, and nothing more. It may have been ridiculous, but she wouldn’t be able to let it go until she had a solid answer. “I buy the same pair every year. What about you? Do you stick to the same shoes?”
Please say yes.
Dylan immediately shook his head. “Nah. I get bored with the same old thing. I like to switch mine up.”
Her chest tightened.
Something had been bugging her for days, and now she knew what it was.
Suddenly all the pieces were clicking into place. The things she’d overlooked slammed into her like a semi going at full speed.
Dylan had been so quick to get on board with her plan. He seemed even more eager to catch Lauren’s killer than she was. He’d taken Lauren’s death really hard. It never made sense. He may have had a crush on her, but as he’d pointed out, so did every other guy at the school. She’d told herself it was because he’d discovered the body, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Then there’s the phone.
It had been so easy to find. A little too easy. It had just been lying in the middle of the basement floor as if it were waiting to be found.
Was it?
Had Dylan planted it there?
She never would’ve suspected if not for the things he’d said earlier.
“Everyone who wronged us got what they deserved, and we can move on.”
“Now that it’s all over and I know that I have a future, I want to spend it with you.”
The agitation she’d felt all day had morphed into a full-blown panic attack. Her entire body trembled. Even her teeth chattered.
“Harley?” Dylan knelt beside her. “You okay?” When his hand touched her shoulder, goosebumps rose on her flesh. But not the kind he normally elicited. This time they felt gross. Wrong. She pulled away. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, standing on quivering legs.
“You sure?” He lifted his arm, his fingers grazing her face. It made her feel sick. And sad. Had those same hands murdered someone? It didn’t seem possible. And yet, she didn’t know what else to think.
Her skin was crawling. Her head was spinning. She couldn’t stand it.
“Stop.” She pushed his hand off, and stepped back.
“Dammit, Harley. What’s your problem?” His expression went from concerned to angry in two seconds flat. His eyes narrowed, his lips forming into a tight line.
And that’s when she could see it. How he must’ve lost his temper with Lauren. He did it easily. It was like flicking a light switch on.
“It was you,” Harley breathed out. “You killed her.”