I’d heard that falling in love hurts, but I never realized how badly it could make you ache. Love is a gift that opens up the heart and soul, but it’s also a curse, waiting for one, awful tragedy to turn that beauty into so much glorious decay.
Tomorrow will be day twelve of Parrish’s disappearance; the Slayer’s victims are always found on or after the fourteenth day since they went missing. And, according to that stupid podcast, their time of death—when possible to calculate with any accuracy—always points to day fourteen. Like those teens on the side of the milk carton, a picture, a missing smile, an empty chair at the dinner table.
Covering my face with my hands, I allow myself a moment to shore up.
This time, Parrish isn’t here to grab me, to wrap me in his arms and hold me.
And he never will be again, if I don’t figure this out.
Come on, Gamer Girl, you’ve got this; you can do this.
I lift my head, take a deep breath, and force a smile before stepping out of the bathroom door.
I don’t get much sleep that night, despite Chasm and Maxx’s dual protests. Instead, I stay up for hours researching the Slayer’s previous victims, marking the map on my phone with the places they were last seen, researching their families and friends for possible connections, and combing social media to get a read on their likes and dislikes.
I check my notifications yet again, kicking myself for even bothering to make the video in the first place. Other than the few random comments I’ve already taken note if, there’s nothing there.
I feel like I’m hitting my head against a brick wall at this point.
Except … what about the obvious? Chasm’s dad’s rental house, his security team, his past friendship with my father, his wine cellar.
When I head downstairs, just on the off chance that Chasm is still awake, I find him shirtless on the couch, his elbows on his knees, his head hanging down. I’m so relieved that Tess let him stay. If she’d banished him yet again, I’m not sure that I ever could’ve forgiven her.
“Hey.”
Chas lifts his head up to look at me, his eyes red-rimmed, mouth pressed into a thin line. He does his best to affect a smile when he sees me, but it falls flat.
“You should be asleep,” he admonishes with a snort, shaking his head and then lying back against the couch. Chasm digs his fingers into his hair, giving it a small tug as he closes his eyes. “Although I guess I’m being hypocritical here.”
“I want to take a look at your father’s wine cellar,” I say, and Chas cracks his eyes to look at me. A huh sort of expression on his face.
“You think Parrish is in my house?” he asks, blinking at me like I’m a crazy person. I move over to sit beside him, unashamed of my Pikachu pajamas. Hell, I wore these to a party, so the entire school knows about them. How I survived that night without being torn apart is almost beyond me. I guess when Kimber told me that Parrish and Lumen ruled the school, I didn’t quite understand the extent of their influence. “Don’t you think I’d recognize the wine cellar from my own house?” He sounds annoyed, but I know it’s not with me. It’s just the situation.
His father really is starting to look guilty as hell.
“I’m not accusing him of anything, I just feel like we need to check it out.”
Chasm frowns, giving his hair another yank before he sits up. I notice that his lip rings have been taken out; they’re sitting in a cup on the coffee table. Beside them, there’s a small plastic bag with two black studs. As I watch, he opens the bag and then goes about trying to put the new piercings in.
It’s a similar process to putting earrings in, it seems, and probably much easier with a mirror.
With a sigh, I move over to him and take the black metal stud from his fingers. It has a sharp point on the end of it, like a cone. I imagine these will look really good on him.
“Let me do it,” I say, getting on my knees and leaning over him. Chasm looks like he’s been sucker-punched, but he doesn’t fight me as I slip the piercing in through the hole on the side of his lip. Tucking the backing between the unbroken fingers of my right hand, I slide them into his mouth and fit the tiny piece of metal to the back of the stud.
My heart is pounding, and my pulse is so loud that I can’t really hear much else. The light trickle of music from Chas’ phone disappears as I fiddle with the other piercing. The backing accidentally drops from my fingers and falls to his lap. Without thinking, I reach down to pick it up, fingers brushing over the hard bulge between his legs.
