Page 57

forty-one

Officers escort me down the hall of the campus police station.

Mitch’s blood still saturates my clothes.

Ryan’s come drips from my pussy. We approach a couple of solid doors labeled Interrogation Room.

Ryan is shoved in front of me, passing by as they throw open a door for him.

As he enters, we pause and catch each other’s eyes.

My chin trembles, trying to hold back some tears, but his face broadens into a grin, then he makes a kissing face at me and gives me a wink, and I feel better. How can he be so unafraid?

As soon as I’m thrust into the small, white-walled room, a crowd of suited women and men pushes their way in and stands in front of me, laying out papers on the table. One shoves their finger in my face and commands, “Don’t speak one word.”

“Get these handcuffs off her!”

“Can’t do that. She was found at the scene of a gunshot called in, then bodies found.”

“Get the supervisor.”

“She’s not resisting.”

Arguments fly from the suit wall like they are my archers in battle, shooting arrows at the broad-shouldered men in uniform.

My head spins with so much going on in the room.

It’s only a few minutes until I’m out of handcuffs, have a warm blanket over my shoulders, a large cup of water and tea in front of me, as well as a recording device set on the table between me and a kind detective.

One woman in a business suit, Lainey, is apparently from Cardell Enterprises. And my personal defense attorney.

“Okay, you can answer that question.”

Shifting in my chair, I curl my hands into fists on my thighs.

“Yes, I shot her. But it was self-defense. She had me in chains on the wall, threatening to have Mitch rape me, then remove my body parts.” My voice wavers as I try to remember my Criminal Justice studies.

“I was under immediate distress that she was going to kill me unless I acted.”

My lawyer gives an encouraging nod, but my throat stays tight like the words are still caught there.

“Mitch McCloud. Your dance partner?”

“Yes. He was my dance partner, but he had grown too attached. We argued because of my new boyfriend, and he was jealous. In the cellar, he told me he was upset that I wasn’t appointed to him.

He admitted…” I take a deep breath. “He confessed that he was the one who put my roommate Gwen’s face on my door. ”

She swallows and nods, then asks her follow-up. “And how did you get down to the cellar?”

“He found me in an alleyway on campus and told me he needed help. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, and he was covered in bruises and cuts.

So I followed him because he said he was in danger.

Only, when I got to the woods, he injected me with something.

The next thing I knew, I was chained to the wall down there, and my head was fuzzy. ”

“She needs medical, I told you,” the lawyer says.

“I don’t think this will take long,” the detective tells her.

Her response makes me relax somewhat, but the bubbling in my stomach tells me I’m not in the clear. Not yet.

It’s an hour before the rest of my statement is taken down and I’m able to walk out of the building with several lawyers. In the front room, my entire family crowds around the little waiting area. My mom and dad rush to grab me.

“Pippi!” Mom yells, and immediately tears spring to her eyes, which makes me lose it. We hold each other for a moment until I swivel and grab my dad around the waist. His broad hands stroke back my hair, which soothes me for only a moment.

“Where’s Ryan?”

Adal grips my shoulder gently. “He’s still back there, but I’m sure he’ll be out soon.” He darts his eyes across the room toward Aiden and a man of about forty who looks identical to him. That must be his father. His mother and sisters aren’t here. Probably for the best.

Instead of going to the hospital as everyone encourages, I wait while pacing the room.

Aiden and Mr. Cardell stay on their side, but he and my father eye each other a few times as if holding a world of guilt.

It’s only another half an hour until Ryan comes around the corner with several of his lawyers in tow.

I run into his arms, but he grunts in pain, and I slide down him and massage his neck instead. He leans over to kiss me softly, then greets his family. And mine.

“They’re free to leave. If we have more questions—” one officer starts, but the band of suited lawyers turns around, and he finishes. “We will direct them to Cardell Enterprises.”

Mr. Cardell steps forward to shake the officer’s hand and says, “Thank you, Lieutenant. Tell Chief Thornton we’re grateful for his officer’s superb treatment of our son and our soon-to-be daughter-in-law.” The words are kind but spoken like a threat.

Even still, his blue eyes like Ryan’s find me and smile at the corners, then vanish when he faces the troops again. There’s something clinical about it. Like he’s scanning me, measuring whether I’m worthy—or useful. It reminds me of the way Aiden looks me over.

My chest tightens. This man isn’t just Ryan’s father. He’s the reason people flinch when they hear the name Cardell.

In the parking lot, Ryan hobbles next to me as his father leans over to say, “It’s good to finally meet you, Miss Freidenberg. I’ve heard nothing but excellent things from my wife and son. If you need anything at all…” He’s warm when he speaks to me, much less cold than I had first anticipated.

Dad approaches my other side and takes my hand. Not in a threatening way, but as if he’s making a boundary around me. “Thanks,” he replies gruffly to Ryan’s father.

“Thank you,” I say with a polite smile.

Ryan’s grip around me tightens, even when his dad gives him a hug and whispers, “Sunday dinner. See you there.”

It’s early morning by the time Ryan and I have been examined in the emergency room and leave with an all clear. Him with more bandages and me with one IV bag of fluids running through my body.

We collapse into bed and snuggle against each other, staring at the metal-beamed ceiling in the dark, the sun not yet arisen. Only the barest light trickles in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. But enough to see Ryan’s eyes are open.

“Do you think they’ll come after us?” I’m still unsettled. Worried I’ll be thrown in prison for what I did.

“Nope,” he says, turning to his side and brushing hair off my cheek. I place my hands together and roll over to face him.

“How can you be so confident?”

One corner of his lips raises. “We own the police. And it doesn’t even matter. It was truly self-defense.”

His confidence and his steady voice relax every muscle in my body.

More than anyone else’s attempts tonight to calm my nerves.

I trust Ryan over them all. He’s right. The senator’s dead.

His wife too. And no one asked us a single question.

It was just, “ heart condition ” and “accidental overdose .” A new senator will be appointed.

Probably from the pool of obedient servants lined up, ready to step into the spotlight.

He said they are the law... I guess I never believed it until now.

However, at Northview, this is how things go: the board makes assignments. People die. The news makes up pretty stories. And the rest of us? We either believe it, or keep our mouths shut. All for the promise of privilege in the end.

“Besides, if they threw you in prison, I’d break you out. We’d live on the lam, and I’d take you to Canada. Or Mexico… Somewhere. Fuck, I’d buy an island, and we could live there.” Flipping to his back, he stares at the ceiling again. “Maybe I should do that anyway.”

I scoot closer and place my head on his shoulder, my hand sliding across his warm chest until his heart beats into my palm. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Done. I’ll buy one this week.” His arm wraps around me, pulling me even higher and closer to him. With a tap, he kisses the top of my head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I killed someone. I think I’m more worried that I was dancing so long with a man who really hated me. Who was so disturbed that he’d rather me be dead than be with someone else. And I’m still shaken by their plans for me.”

Clearing my throat, my eyebrows tug together as I wonder… “Also, I was getting sort of threatening text messages this semester. I thought perhaps at one point you were sending them. They came from an unknown number. But I deleted them all.”

He snorts. “There’s no way that would be me, pink cheeks. I’d definitely make myself known.”

I chuckle in agreement, and he continues. “But I’ll look into it and make sure it was Mitch. Wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Do you think he also did those things to Gwen?”

“Ripped off her face and put it on your door? Yes. You said he admitted to it, yeah?”

“What about him saying he found her that way… The symbol on the ground in the cellar is the same as the circle in the woods.”

My mind won’t stop circling. Mitch was capable of unspeakable acts, but something about Gwen’s death still feels too…orchestrated. Too symbolic. Like he was just another piece on the board. And that man I saw—his cloak, his knife—he didn’t look scared. He looked like he belonged there.

“Maybe the caped man with the knife had something to do with it,” I announce.

“Hmm…I think I’ve seen something like what happened to Gwen’s body in a puzzle. But it was missing pieces.” He reaches over and grabs his phone, then types in a search online. “Yeah, this. Right here.”

The image that he pulls up is called a tangram . A series of shapes that form a square. “Yep. That’s kind of what it looked like, except…” Nausea rises up my esophagus until I swallow. “They had one piece of the puzzle. From Gwen’s skin.”

“It’s called a dissection puzzle, and I remember where I saw one.”

“Where?”

Ryan sighs and puts his phone down, then side-eyes me. “President Harvey’s office.”

“Interesting…”

He huffs a humorless laugh. “Yeah, very.”

“What does it mean?”

He pauses for a long while. “I don’t know.”

The pieces don’t fit yet. Not fully. And maybe I don’t want them to. My brain aches from trying to solve what I don’t understand. Some horrors are best left for another day of the week.

“Well, there’s always our beach neighborhood.”

Ryan grabs my waist with a playful growl and flips me so that my back is to his front. “Yep. But you’re safe in my arms, Pen. Always. I love you.”

The tight grip he has on my body makes me feel the most secure, and a smile paints my lips. I never want to leave this space. “I love you, too.”

As I fall asleep, he murmurs, “Tomorrow, I’m buying you an island.”