A note on the door, pinned with a hunting knife piercing through it.
Fuck, he was here, and I wasn’t.
My stomach’s in my mouth as I approach it. The envelope is the same thick card, but this time it’s not addressed to Kat.
There in red letters is one word.
Liam.
Not the name I go by now, but my real name. A name very few people know, and no one from beyond the days in the cottage.
My stomach lurches, and I feel like I’m going to lose my lunch.
He knows my name.
It’snot just about Kat. It’s about me too.
I yank the blade free with my sleeve covering my fingers. It’s an expensive, well-made piece.The handle is bone, and there’s a deep red crust at the point where the sharp blade meets the bone. Not a knife grabbed from a pocket in haste, it’s been selected as part of the warning. Like he intends to hunt us both.
I take the note from the envelope and scan the bright red letters.
We are the same, you and I, and I hate that you escaped when I didn’t.
I read it twice. Each word comes with a punch of guilt.
We are the same.
I stand in the alley trying to catch my breath and slow my whirling mind. Things have been so good with Kat that I consider hiding the note and keeping her from worrying. The promise I made her not to lie hits me, and I close my eyes, set my shoulders, and knock on her door.
She opens it then takes a seat at the table, patting the one next to her. My oversized shirt hangs off one of her shoulders, and she sets both hands around a steaming mug. The second she sees my face, she puts it down.
‘What happened?’
I set the note on the table and the knife beside it.
The colour drains from her sweet face, and she glances up at me with those baby blues full of fear. Anote’s one thing, but a knife is a whole new level of threat. Then her eyes narrow and she sets her mouth in a firm line. Reading the note, she sighs.
‘This was on my door?’
‘Yeah, the knife pinned the note to it.’
She sets it down and rubs at her temples. ‘He knows who you are.’
‘Yes.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
She looks up at me, and I can see her mind whirring. Using one finger, she flips the knife over before spinning it on the tabletop. ‘He’s been watching both of us.’
‘That’s how I read it.’
‘What does he want?’
‘It has to be one of the other boys.’ I pause and sit down beside her. ‘He’s angry I escaped, and he was left with men like my dad. He wants justice, and I’m to blame in his eyes. Everything he’s been through is rotting him from the inside. Like it did with me, until you.’
I think of Pete’s crotchless body. It still rots me, even now.
