Frankie snorted. “Don’t tempt me.”
She honked off. Her bus disappeared around the corner, sending me in the opposite direction.
Highland Arms stood dark and empty for my arrival. No, for the arrival of the Tuesday Nighters. It made me sick to think of what those men did to helpless, terrified women week after week.
I went in through the back door—held open by the cinder block. Just as we found it.
Arsenio said this was my treat. The satisfaction I got from stopping Scott Cavendish hurting another person replicated in seeing another vile monster taken out.
It was a smoke screen, of course.
Fill my head with pretty, hypnotic words that he may mean, but ultimately had nothing to do with why he came.
Cairo got a call that morning at breakfast.
From who?
All the Bedlam Boys were sitting around the table, so who let them know there was a problem, and how many times has Arsenio gone out to deal with it?
I approached Axel’s body, tiptoeing around congealing blood.
I didn’t touch the broken pool cue stuck in his stomach. Arsenio stayed behind to wipe away our presence. Let me not make his work harder.
I wouldn’t have come back at all if it wasn’t for the Letter Man’s request that I use an arrow again. I didn’t know who they were, or how the information would get back to them, but when it did, there would be no doubt Rainey de Souza was here. He’d lose his excuse to put his filthy hands on my friends.
Breathing through my nose, I summoned the strength and plunged my arrow through his heart.
“You’re a sad excuse for a human being, Axel Verlice. I genuinely hope there is a hell, so you will spend an eternity burning in it. But let this bring you some comfort during your millennia of torment, your death just saved three women and two sweet kids—which is better than you achieved in your entire miserable life.”
Not sure where I got this habit of speaking to the dead, but my final words were the best place to leave it as I walked out and left Axel for someone’s early morning surprise.
***
Paris picked me up on a street corner miles away from the Highland Arms. Zara, Amy, Elise, and Presley claimed all the seats.
“Sorry, Rainey, you’ll have to pick a lap,” Paris said. “We were on our way to dinner when you called. How do you feel about tacos?”
“I’m having a love affair with tacos, and if they’re cheating on me with you, I’ll be so pissed.”
They cracked up.
“I told you,” Paris said. “I love this girl.”
“Got your car back.” I slid onto Amy’s lap. It suddenly occurred to me my panties were still in Arsenio’s pocket.
“Yep, and when I find the person who rear-ended me and took off, I’ll kill them. They cost me six hundred dollars and a lecture about going to Ruckus Royale from my dad.”
“Worse things happened that night than a ding in your ride,” Elise said. “A man was murdered right in front of us.”
“I know,” Paris said. “I’m not trying to be insensitive. It’s just Dad is using the whole thing as another excuse to warn me off Cairo. He won’t say it, but I think he actually believes my brother could do this.”
Axel lying dead on the floor crossed my mind. I think your brother could do a lot of things. But this one was on me.
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Amy said. “Those two have never gotten along, but he knows Cairo isn’t a killer.” I felt her shiver. “It is scary that whoever did it is still out there. Can you imagine what a sick, twisted psycho you have to be to kill someone that way? A bullet to the head wouldn’t do? How about smothering him or cutting his throat?”
“Ugh, Amy, please,” Zara whined. “Can we not?”
“Sorry. I’m just saying. Burning him alive? I can’t think of a more evil, cruel way to kill someone. They gave Scott Cavendish the worst death imaginable.”
I leaned back, resting my head on her shoulder. Amy wrapped her arms around me—snuggling the cruel, evil, twisted psycho.
“Amy’s right,” Elise said. “I didn’t sleep for a week. And don’t get me started on Jennifer. She goes to Bedlam U too, and some guy snatched her right from the parking lot. I sent you all that link to buy pepper spray. I’m not kidding, get some.”
“Guys, can we talk about something else?” Presley asked. “Like the photo Kingsley sent me this morning of our new friend Rainey riding Cairo’s lap with a collar on her neck.”
“What?” half the car squealed.
“Uh. Let’s go back to the sicko stalking the streets,” I said.
“Nope. Uh-uh.” They hooted, hollered, and tickled me breathless.
“All right, all right,” I cried. “Mercy.”
“What’s the deal with you guys?” Amy asked.
I shot a side look at Paris. If our conversation at the Highland was anything to go by, the Bedlam Boys weren’t giving up their new pet anytime soon. I couldn’t have Paris spending the whole time convinced I needed to be rescued.