Tess looks up at me, a very tired, very drained sort of half-smile on her face.
“That poor boy … it was hard to see much …” She looks away like she might be sick. And for someone who writes true crime, it must take a lot. I can’t even imagine the state the body must’ve been in for her to look like that. I know for a fact that she actually spent an entire week at the body farm—this place in Knoxville, Tennessee where researchers lay corpses around the property and then study their rate of decomposition—as research for one of her books. “But he didn’t have any tattoos.”
A sigh of immense relief escapes me, and I sag against the railing. Chasm is in such shock that he actually ends up sitting down so hard and fast that his teeth actually clack together and he cringes. X reaches out to put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I pretend like it doesn’t affect me much at all.
“I never thought I’d be so happy to see you boys ruin your skin,” Paul says with a soft, sad smile of his own. Under any other circumstances, I’d find his comment annoying, but tonight, I let it slide. Nobody in this family needs to be sniping at each other right now.
“It isn’t him,” Chasm repeats, yanking on his hair yet again. I need to figure out a way to stop him from doing that before he ends up ripping a hunk out. “Thank fuck.”
“Thank fuck is right,” Tess says, turning back to us. There’s a new fire in her eyes, a fresh surge of hope. I wish I could reciprocate that feeling, but I keep thinking about the Slayer’s words: I hope you’re excited for tomorrow. Whatever happens, it’s going to change everything. That much I know for sure. “I’m sorry that I worried you all like that …” she trails off, reaching up to rub at the side of her face.
If I ever felt anything even remotely close to love for Tess, it happens in that moment. It’s just a tiny, distant spark, but we could have a relationship if we really tried.
I just have to get Parrish back first.
And, you know, hope that she doesn’t kill us when she finds out we slept together.
“We’re never going to stop searching for him,” Tess adds, glancing over at Paul as he twines his fingers through hers. She turns back to look at me, her eyes blazing. “Because no matter how long he’s gone, there’s always hope. Always.”
Tess pulls Paul’s hand to her lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles.
Kimber wanders in from the living room, her attention darting to me and Chasm before she narrows her eyes. She looks back at Tess, completely unaware that she almost got the news that her brother’s body had been found.
“What’s happening?” she asks warily, putting aside her newfound vendetta for a brief instant.
“Nothing,” Tess assures her, forcing a smile. “Blissfully, thankfully, nothing at all.”
She slides her hand from Paul’s and scoots past us up the stairs. After a moment, I follow her, pausing near the staircase as she moves into her office and closes the door behind her. Just a few moments later, I hear the pleasant clacking of her laptop keys.
She’s writing to calm herself down.
“Shall we continue our research?” Chasm asks as he comes up behind me. I turn to look at him, but he’s got these huge, black circles beneath his eyes. What he really needs right now is sleep. X joins us, a similar expression on his own face.
His gaze flicks past Chasm to land on me, a contemplative, thoughtful expression behind his gaze.
“You guys go ahead,” I tell them, padding down the hall to Tess’ office door and knocking softly on it. The clacking keys continue for a while and then fall silent.
“Come in.”
I step into her office, closing the door carefully behind me and putting my back against it.
She’s sitting in her chair facing me, her espresso-colored hair hanging loose and slung over one shoulder. It feels weird being in here since last time I came into this room I found that horrible page and then Parrish and I …
Anyway, I was getting sick of Tess’ presence before all this, and now it feels like we never see each other. I’m not sure how I feel about any of it. It’s as if the Dakota-Mia struggle I was experiencing before has been washed away in a tide of other, more dangerous emotions.
I can’t begin to process anymore of the feelings associated with my kidnapping, not until Parrish is safe and sound. Until I’m not being watched by a serial killer. Until things are as close to normal as they ever were.
Not that living in a house with a famous author, an inked stepbrother, and a world-famous plastic surgeon was ever all that normal to begin with.
