I jump but then anger flashes under my skin.
Fuck this.
I keep a tight grip on my phone, then march into the kitchen and pull the chef’s knife from the butcher block. High-quality, Japanese knives. A house-warming present from Cynthia’s chef of a father. Almost a gag gift, considering we can’t cook. At least not well.
I tighten my fingers around the handle and glance at the steel blade. This time when the door sounds like it might fall from its hinges, I don’t startle. My steps are steady and with my phone in one hand and my weapon in the other, I make my way to the door. I don’t need to press up on my tiptoes to look through the peephole, but I peer through it quickly all the same, in case they start to knock again, and the tiny metal circle jabs me in the eye.
Surprise makes me jerk my head back, right as Jackson’s friend Will lifts his fist to start wailing on the steel again. Andangermakes me flip the lock and snatch open the door with my phone hand before I can think through the reasons Will might be angry with me. Which are, on the whole, pretty valid.
His fist is mid-air, and his lips part in surprise when he sees me, then he glances over my shoulder, as if he’s looking forsomeone, and I don’t like the fact that he might discover I’m here alone. Casper can’t hear well, and if there’s no customers down below, it’s possible no one would hear me scream.
Because, yeah, Will’s reasons are valid, so the emotion is real.
His blue eyes are red-rimmed as they crawl back to mine. He doesn’t seem to see the knife in my hand, but he doesn’t take a step forward either.
I don’t invite him in from the dark, dim corridor strung up with red fairy lights.
“Neve?” He says my name like he doesn’t believe he’s seeing me. Then he runs his fingers through his dirty blond hair, pulling at the roots. “Something happened to Jackson. Something…” His voice breaks and his shoulders curve inward and for the first time since I saw it was him out here, I feel my resolve start to splinter.
He doesn’t know I was one of the last people to see him alive, does he? I didn’t read the campus security alert and he wouldn’t have received it since he’s not a student, but neither it nor the media would say my name. Not yet.
But why, then, did he knock on my door like he wanted to burn my apartment down?
“What do you mean?” I am a liar. I am afuckingliar. If not an outright one, then a coward all the same.
He still has his hands in his hair and he’s looking down at his boots. “Didn’t you see him last night? He knew about us and he was coming to confront you. He told me that! Then he was dropping by my place, but he never showed. This morning I got a call before I lost my phone and…” He slows down for the first time, as if considering something.
Lost his phone?I think of the texts on mine. The countdown.What the fuck?But before I can get him to back up, he starts speaking again.
“Did he ever talk to you? What did he say?” He brings his gaze back to mine.
And my heart starts to race.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
What do I say? You’d think the third retelling of the first time I ever saw a dead body would be easier, but shockingly, I still can’t get the words out. And definitely not to Will.
“I…” My voice is hoarse and he’s staring at me with big puppy dog eyes and I tighten my grip on the knife, which is the wrong thing because instantly, I watch his gaze zero in on it.
The surprise from when I yanked open the door comes back.
But it’s quickly replaced with something else.
His gaze narrows and he slowly drags it to my face. “You saw him.” This time he isn’t asking.
He drops his hands by his sides and lifts his chin.
Jackson told me they’ve gotten into bar fights. That once Will was arrested after a bad fight with his ex in a Wal-Mart. Obviously sleeping with him wasn’t the pinnacle of my year, but now I’m thinking it was a worse mistake than even hungover-me realized the morning after.
If I hadn’t, Jackson wouldn’t have been angry in his truck.
I wouldn’t have run from him.
He wouldn’t be fuckingdead.
And Will wouldn’t be at my doorstep.
“You saw him, didn’t you? What did you do?” He takes a step toward me, but I don’t concede. If I do, he’s inside the apartment.
