Page 5 of Death, Interrupted

“Holy shit,” Garrett breathed. And then, because the universe enjoys screwing with me, he actually smiled. “It’s been so long!”

I froze. What?

He relaxed, lowering his shoulders, eyes softening as if I was some long-lost buddy instead of the guy about to kill him.

“Hell, yeah,” I found myself saying, grinning like an idiot. “It’s been, what, four years since we—”

Wait. No. No no no. What the fuck was I doing? I was not here to reminisce. I was here to kill him.

I mean, accidentally make him kill himself.

I snapped my knife back up, pointing it at his face. “Stop that. Stay back.”

“Shit, Sylvester—”

“Sly,” I corrected.

“Sly,” he repeated, lips twitching, still amused, which pissed me off even more. “What the hell are you doing, man? How’d you get in here?”

“Your front door,” I deadpanned.

“Right.” He blinked. “Listen, whatever it is you want, I’m sure we can negotiate—”

“Nope. Sit.”

He frowned. “No.”

“Sit.”

“What the fuck—no! Get out!”

“I can’t!” I snapped, throwing my head back and groaning before glaring at him again. “I need you to kill yourself first.”

That shut him up. He gawked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Huh?”

I sighed. “I’m here to make it look like you killed yourself. Or, you know, I’ll help make it convincing. Either way, the result’s the same.”

“I’m sofucking confused.”

“Good,” I muttered.

And then realization dawned across his face. His mouth dropped open, eyes widening, voice rising. “No fucking way. It was you? You killed my friends?”

“Whoa, whoa,” I said quickly, holding up my hands again, knife gleaming between my fingers. “Careful with the accusations, Gary. That’s harsh. And false. Their deaths were tragic accidents. Total freak events. Nothing to do with me.”

“No? You expect me to believe three of my best friends all conveniently killed themselves in the span of three days?” His face twisted in rage, his voice spiking again.

I shrugged. “Ever readThe Virgin Suicides?”

“Oh, fuck off, Sly! It was you!”

“Rude,” I said, flipping the knife into the air and catching it just to show him I could. And, boy, could I.Damn, that was hot. “Take it back.”

“What? No!”

“Those are serious accusations, Gary!” I half-shouted, half-whined.