Page 17 of Lilies from Hell

“I’m not playing games, Alek. I don’t even know what games you’re referring to.”

“You understand nothing. Or maybe you don’t want to because it doesn’t suit you, is that it?” His eyes rest on me with more irritation, and my ears burn. “All you do is complicate things for me,” he says to himself, extinguishing that little light I had inside.

He hates me. My head repeats as he turns around and walks away, leaving me with my mouth open once again. The anger and frustration left over from our last encounter make me train harder.

I don’t understand him. I don’t understand his behavior, or why he says those things, or why he hates me so much. Jason stands in front of the treadmill I’m running on, looking at me with an amused smile.

“What?” I ask.

“Your face is red as fuck.” I say nothing. I get off the treadmill and head to the locker room with him following close behind, looking rather unhappy. I wanted to shower here, but after that incident, I’m reconsidering changing gyms.

I don’t wait for Jason to leave the locker room before heading out onto the street well ahead of him.

“Wait. What’s the rush?” he asks behind me, trying to follow my footsteps.

“I’m hungry.”

“As usual,” he says, sitting down next to me. “By the way, there’s a party at Count Dracula’s house in a few days. It’s the Older Count’s birthday.”

“Who?”

“Alekei.”

“Are you going?”

“You?” he asks back.

I don’t think I could go to his house alone, but with my brother there, I might consider it. Besides, I’m eager to go and find out more about him. I want to know where he lives and what his home is like, including his kitchen and bedroom. I also want to understand why he dislikes me so much and know who that blonde girl is. I bet he’s less unfriendly with her.

“If you go, I’ll go,” I reply, nodding my head, and he flashes a sly smile.

“We’ll go then. No way am I missing that shit.”

“Romina has called,” says the butler behind me.

I don’t have time to thank him before he hurries off to the dining room. On the way to my room, I dial her number. She picks up on the first ring. The first thing I hear is her sobbing.

“Romina? Are you okay?” She tries to say something, but I can’t understand her.

Then she sniffs, and there is a long silence in which I can only hear her agitated breathing.

“He’s dead, Len,” she stammers between sobs.

When I understand what she’s saying, my breath catches for a moment, realizing whose body I saw this morning and why it was on the news. It was all planned by him. He wanted me to see it.

My hair stands on end, just like the first time I saw the images, without understanding why on earth he did that. What does he gain from it? Is it some kind of threat because of what happened that night in the dumpsters?

“I went to his mother’s house. She says they called her to confirm the identity of the body. The funeral is next week.” Her broken voice brings me back to reality. My fingers cling to the phone as I search for the right words to say, knowing it will never be enough.

08

The office door closes with a soft bang. I don’t look up to see who it is. The smell of weed is enough.

“Would you like something to drink?” I offer him, hiding my cell phone under the table.

“Do you still have that old scotch?” I nod slowly. “Pour me some of that. It always brings back memories of our first murder together—”

“Do it yourself. You already know where it is,” I cut him, too impatient to wait for her image to appear on the screen.