Page 185 of Wicked Little Darling


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Everett.

That fuckingasshole.

I banged on the door. “Hey! Is anybody there?”

I was about to pull my phone out to use the flashlight when the lights suddenly came on, illuminating the big open space around me. I blinked against the brightness and let my eyes adjust, and when they did, my brows scrunched together in confusion.

“What the fuck…?”

Everett was leaning against the wall across from me. “Never took you for the gullible type.”

What? How long had he been standing there?

“What the fuck, Everett?” I snapped, walking toward him. “Shouldn’t you be checking on your brother instead of playing games with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He pushed off the wall, his smile growing wider. It was unsettling and made my skin crawl.

“Seriously, fuck you,” I muttered. When I took a step to leave—there was another door at the far end of the room—he moved in front of me and blocked the way.

“That was exceptionally rude. And my brother will be fine, he’s always been one for dramatics. Loves the attention, I think.”

Was he joking? No, he really was this much of an asshole.

“Just like Dakota in that regard. Such an attention whore.”

Something in me snapped, like I’d been walking a frayed tightrope for too long. I took a step forward and balled my hands into fists, denying myself this intense urge to claw that smug smirk off his face.

“You know what’s rude? Disfiguringyour brotherand then telling everyone he did it to himself. Or locking him up in a crawlspace for two days while he screamed himself raw and practically died. How’s that forrude? Actually, I’d call that fucked up, twisted, demented, psychotic, and just plain evil.”

Everett’s brows flew up, and his eyes sparkled with an unhinged, disgusting delight. “Oh, I see Dakota’s been hard at work. And you believe his lies?” Hetskedand frowned in a deeply exaggerated manner, sticking his bottom lip out in a faux pout. “I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but he’s not quite right in the head. You know he spent some time in the nuthouse, right? He loves to blame me for his issues, sadly, but I’m just a victim here. It seems you’re another victim. Why don’t we commiserate, hm?”

“I think the only one who’s not quite right in the head is you.” And because I wanted to shut this prick up once and for all, I dug my phone out of my pocket and pulled up Jared’s recording. “And sorry for you, because I’ve got something that contradicts all the lies you’ve spread.”

His smiled wavered as he glanced at my phone. “I highly doubt?—”

I hit play, and Jared’s voice filled the room.

“Look, Everett forced me to say Dakota did that because otherwise he’d tell everyone that I was sleeping with one of the professors.”

Any semblance of amusement slipped from Everett’s face.

“I’m not. Fuck that, I’m not sleeping with one of the professors here. My point is, he was going to spread the rumor that I was and get me—and that professor—kicked out of here. And ruin our lives. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. I went to high school with that asshole, and he gets off on that kind of shit. So yeah, I faked the broken arm?—”

Everett ripped the phone from my hands and threw it to the ground, stomped on it, picked it up again and threw it at the wall. When he turned around, his face was red and his eyes were wild as he stared at me with pure loathing.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose, then opened his eyes as he exhaled through his mouth. “You were saying?”

I scoffed and shook my head, a nasty smile forming. “You do know about hard drives, right? Were you aware that you can save files in more than one place? Technology is crazy,isn’t it?”

His eye twitched as he stared at me.

I didn’t want to do this with him. There was no point; it would continue to be a circular conversation that went absolutely nowhere.

“Move,” I said, trying to go around him, but he stepped closer. I glared at him and backed into the wall. I wasn’t afraid of him, not one bit, and as much as I wanted to punch him in the face, to do something that would forever disfigure him like he’d done to Dakota, I’d made a promise to Dakota.

So I clenched my fists at my side and told him to move again as he smiled down at me like the evil piece of shit he was.

He didn’t move, and I didn’t expect him to. He moved into my space and said innocently, “I just want to have a conversation. I’m not really sure what it is my brother sees in you, and I’d really like to figure it out.” His eyes drifted over my port-wine stain, his lip curling a bit. “I doubt it’s that hideousmark.” He lifted his gaze to my hair. “Or this awful style. Help me out here, Reese. What is it, exactly, that he likes so much?”