Page 50 of Haven't Killed in Years

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s totally fine. I’m not going to tell Jake or anything.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I doubt he would care.”

I wasn’t sure how to interpret that. He wouldn’t care because they were on the outs or he wouldn’t care because this was something Elyse did often? Kiss her girlfriends for fun with her boyfriend fully on board? It didn’t matter to me if Jake cared that we kissed, but I was curious if Elyse did.

“Obviously, I won’t say anything to Dominic,” she said, misinterpreting my silence.

Yes, please, for the love of God, don’t talk to Dominic about anything.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Why?” I wondered how she knew I wassomewhere.

“Just curious. The guys are having a party tonight if you want to come.”

“It’s Tuesday.” I reacted like the grown adult I had accidentally become over the years.

“Yeah, but it’s John’s birthday.”

“Okay, maybe.”

Then there was silence again until she blurted out, “They found the other body.”

“What?”

“Those arms. They found the second body, James Calhoun. I knew him, you know?”

I did know that, but I couldn’t remember if Gwen knew that. Yes, right? Dominic told me all that stuff I already knew. I was hungover and this was getting harder. When you let people into your life, there are so many details. I knew that and I had ignored my own rules anyway.

“Yeah,” I said, keeping it short.

“The police called to notify me personally, which was crap because they started asking me questions like I knew something about what happened.”

“Shit,” I offered as a condolence.

“And you know why?”

“Why?”

“The asshole carvedDEAR ABELinto his chest.”

The acid in my already-bubbling stomach churned. The days of hypothetical theories about connections between the arms were over now. The arms were connected to Abel Haggerty. It was only a matter of time before they discovered Reanne was missing, if they hadn’t already. What was obvious to me was that it was going to become a lot harder to hide from everyone now that the world would be actively looking for Marin Haggerty.

Twenty-Six

I got off the phonewith a vague promise that I would go to Jake’s that night, then explored whatever suburb I was in for an hour, waiting for the breakfast and two Gatorades to do their thing.

I ended up buying an outfit that spoke to me—black jeans with carefully manufactured tears, not outright holes but the tantalizing promise of them someday, and a dark gray sweater that had those thumb holes at the ends of the sleeves. It wasn’t like I could keep pretending a pastel palette was going to help me hide anymore.

Was there enough information out there to really find me? My stalker had killed everyone who knew my true identity and had stolen my file from the storage unit. The problem was, noteveryonewho knew had been eliminated—not anymore. Dominic was on his way home on a train, facing basically a death sentence if he opened his big fat mouth to the wrong person.

It was time to suck it up and make the long drive back.

- - - - -

When Dominic answered thedoor, I dangled the keys out in front of me like they were a peace offering. He yanked them away and plodded back into the apartment building, leaving the exterior door open without explicitly inviting me in.

I followed him up the stairs and into his apartment, shutting the door behind me. “We need to talk.”