JT finally looks up at Easton. “You killed your brother?” Easton nods. JT sticks a thumb in my direction. “And this guy is an imposter your parents hired?”
Easton shakes his head. “No. This is an idiot who decided to bust his way into our family, pretending to be Nate. And now we’re going to find out why.”
JT stands up and shakes his head. “I’m way too high for this.”
“Thought you might be,” Easton says.
I can’t do anything but sit here and tremble. Being exposed is so much worse than I imagined. Probably because I really thought Easton was a nice big brother.
Is it possible he’s still bluffing?
“So youkilledNate?” JT asks. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to,” Easton says. His voice gives me another chill. And now I don’t think he’s lying. “At first, I was only curious to see if I could. But once I started, I realized Iwantedto.” He turns away from us.
“Dude.” JT’s voice is low and serious. “I lied for you.”
Lied?
“You did,” Easton says. “Thank you for that, by the way. Having an alibi definitely helped take suspicion off me, though to be fair thesuspicion was barely there to begin with.” Of course. Easton wasn’t home because he was at JT’s. At least, that’s what the articles said. And JT confirmed Easton’s story because he thought he was being a good friend.
JT shakes his head. “You said you were at the playground and you didn’t want to get in trouble for not watching him.” He’s finally putting together that he helped his best friend get away with murder. He turns to me and gives me a look I don’t recognize. Maybe it’s acan you believe this?look, or aweneed to runlook. And no I can’t, but yes we need to.
I stand up.
And now I can see over JT’s shoulder.
Easton has turned back around to face us. And he’s grinning.
In his left hand, he has the craggy rock he was nudging with his foot.
“Look out!”
But it’s too late.
Easton bashes the rock into the back of JT’s skull before the words even leave my mouth. It lands with a sickening, wet thud and JT drops to the ground. His eyes roll back and his legs and arms start to spasm as blood pools around his shaking head.
I put my hands over my mouth. I want to scream but I can’t. Thunder rumbles again in the distance, but it’s louder now. I step back as Easton straddles JT. He smiles up at me as he raises the rock above his head.
He keeps his eyes on me, but when he brings the rock down on JT’s head again he still hits his target.
JT’s skull caves inward and his spasms stop.
Easton stands, tossing the rock over the edge of the cliff. My legs give out and I drop to my knees. My shaking hands are still covering my mouth like they’re the only thing that’s keeping my screams in. But I can’t speak.
I can’t make a sound.
Easton says something but I don’t hear it. I can’t look away from JT’s body. His eyes are open and blood spills from his nose and ears. He’s dead. Easton killed him. Which means Easton absolutely killed Nate. He killed Nate, told his parents and the police he was with JT—who corroborated the story like a good friend because, like me, he never imagined Easton capable of murder.
Easton steps forward, standing over me. He has a few speckles of blood on his chin and jaw.
“So,” he says, checking his hands for blood before putting them on his hips. “Do you believe me now?”
Thirty-Eight
This can’t possibly be happening. But the longer I look at JT’s dead body, the realer it becomes. How could I miss this? How haseveryonemissed that Easton Beaumont is a complete psychopath? There are always red flags raised on people like him. There’s a pattern. Like being a mean kid or hurting animals.
Nate’s guinea pigs.
