Fair enough.
I've come to accept that Aaron comes as a package deal. The only reason Dan isn't always by our side is that he attends an elite private school abroad, enjoying all the perks that come with being one of the privileged kids. Apparently, using his parents’ wealth to compensate for their absence is a real thing. He comes here whenever he can, which is during his rugby off-season or the holidays.
After I hang up with Aaron, I glance at the time, 7:25. Dad’s still not home, and my text is unanswered, which is unusual. I try calling, but it keeps ringing until it goes to voicemail.
Odd.
I send him a couple more texts, letting him know I’m heading out. He’s probably at the local pub, playing poker, and lost track of time.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
Just as I’m about to slip my phone into my bag, it dings with a new message.
Victor: Here!
I grab my purse and shove my e-reader in it. My keys in hand, I double-check that the front door is locked, then I jog down the porch steps to where Victor is waiting in his red pickup truck. The engine is humming, as if it’s just as nervous as I am.
The night is turningout to be more fun than I expected. I’m actually enjoying myself, until our waitress starts shamelessly flirting with Victor. He doesn’t seem to mind it.
In fact, he looks pleased, flashing her a grin and giving her far too much attention for my taste. It’s only when I roll my eyes,visibly, that he seems to remember I exist. From that moment on, though, he shifts. Suddenly, he’s all charm. Asking thoughtful questions, listening intently, and nudging me to open up more. The conversation flows easily after that, like we’ve known each other longer than we have.
“You can’t argue with theWolf of Wall Street,” Victor tells me between sips of his vanilla milkshake. “That movie is a masterpiece, and it even has a great life lesson in it!”
“What, the dangers of unchecked greed and the importance of ethical conduct in business?” I reply before finishing my caramel frappe. But then, I see the time, 9 p.m. Reaching into my purse for my phone, I freeze when I see two missed calls from dad.
Victor continues to talk about how great his favourite movie is: “You know the true lessons reside in the power of persuasion, and how the movie uses the value of persistence–”, but I amnot listening anymore, eyes glued to my phone. One missed call from ten minutes ago. And the other is only from three minutes earlier.
My stomach drops.
I call back immediately, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Hey… everything okay?” Victor asks, brows knitted, finally catching up on my mood.
“Yeah, I just need to get home. You know... curfew,” I reply, eyes still fixed on my phone.
“Curfew? Seriously? Can’t you just do what you want?” His smug, dismissive tone makes my skin prickle with unease. I snap my head up, irritation rising too fast to hold back.
“I do what I want. And right now, Iwantyou to drive me home. For the record, that curfew is happening whether you like it or not. They implemented it because of how serious the situation is.” The words cut sharply, slicing through his stupid little smirk. He doesn’t need to know the new policy doesn’t apply to me.
“Obviously, it’s serious; all those deaths. I was just teasing,” Victor says quickly, hands shooting up like I’ve pulled a gun on him. “Don’t take it sopersonally, it was a joke. Of course I’ll drive you back.”
The urge to punch him flares so suddenly that my hand literally twitches. Instead, I settle for a flat, hum, except that an ominous feeling makes my hair stand.
We’re nearlyto my place, and the silence in the truck is unbearable. The whole drive has been thick with discomfort.Awkward glances, shallow small talk, and that gut-twisting instinct that tells me I should’ve just called a cab.
But no, this was faster, more convenient.
And now I’m regretting it.
As we turn onto the narrow driveway, the woods close in around us. It’s quiet,tooquiet. No houses, no streetlights, just the crunch of tires on gravel. I hold my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And then, there it is, my house.
I exhale.
Nestled between the trees at the top of the hill, as if it’s grown from the forest itself. And that’s when it hits me, really hits me. I don’tactuallyknow Victor, not really. Not beyond surface-level charm and a carefully rehearsed smile.
And psychos?
They don’t wear signs.
