Hush - Anne Malcom Page 0,102

get on that plane. She suspected it was the former.

Orion was daydreaming about her next kill. She’d chosen him already. Alan Stephens. He was in his forties, overweight, and liked little boys. He’d been given a light sentence because he was rich. She was beginning to see a trend. The more she researched these monsters, the more she realized money talked loudly in the justice system.

He was going to be slightly harder than the others. She’d chosen the others because they smaller in stature. Skinny and out of shape. Loners. Not many people would miss them. But Alan had money, which meant he had a wife that stuck by his side, and the golfing buddies who “never believed he could do such a thing!’”

She was careful not to get too cocky. Too arrogant. That’s when she’d make a mistake. And she needed to make sure she didn’t make a single one with Alan Stephens. He had people to miss him. Not many, to be fair, but enough that they would quickly notice his absence. Enough investor buddies to realize something was amiss almost immediately.

She hadn’t seen the others on the news. She’d checked and they had been reported missing, by employers, by parole officers, but it didn’t seem much effort was put into finding them.

How would she lure Alan out of his routine? Where was his weak spot?

She had followed him for a week, but he always seemed to be out doing things, to be busy. She worried she might never find the opportunity to strike, that she might have to move on. But she couldn’t. Once she had prey in her sights, she couldn’t shake the desire to strike.

“I know, I know. I’m late,” Shelby said, rushing toward the table, interrupting Orion’s murder planning.

Everyone stared at Shelby. Not just because they recognized her, but because she was something to be stared at. Orion didn’t know quite when this happened, but at some point, Shelby had changed. Her hair was shiny, curled, healthy. Eyes lit with real happiness. With life. Her outfit was expensive, her heels high.

She had seen photos of her, of course, on the internet, on social media. They had communicated a change in her, a blossoming, but nothing like this.

Orion stood, hugging her on autopilot, too shocked at the creature she was in the presence of to do much else.

“We had delays on the plane,” Shelby explained, sitting down. “And then at the airport, some media figured out I was arriving, and that was a whole other thing.” She rolled her eyes.

Orion saw no signs of panic or fear at being mobbed at an airport by photographers. Who was this woman?

Shelby ran her eyes over Orion. “You look good. Life treating you well?”

Death was treating her well, more like. She’d slept better this past month than she ever had. Her skin looked brighter. She worked out harder. Food tasted better. Life was more detailed.

Orion shrugged. “Not as well as you.” She paused, looking Shelby over again, searching for those tics she’d had for years in The Cell. Her eyes blinked a little too rapidly and her finger tapped on the table, but that was pretty darn impressive considering it hadn’t even been a year. “I’m proud of you, Shelby.”

Some of the light left her friend’s eyes. Sadness, more recognizable, replaced it. “I’m proud of both of us.” She leaned over to squeeze Orion’s hand quickly before reaching into her purse. “The book is almost finished,” Shelby said. “That’s what I was in New York for. My publishers wanted to create hype.” She rolled her eyes again. “As if there wasn’t enough. But I wanted you to have it.”

Orion eyed the thick stack of paper that Shelby handed her. It looked like a lot of words, but not nearly enough to tell the story.

“It’s a rough draft,” Shelby said quickly, slightly shy. “There’s editing that needs to happen, and it’s probably riddled with errors. I didn’t exactly get to finish out English in school. I’m a little rusty, but I think it’s pretty good. I wanted you to be the first to read it. Make sure you’re okay with everything. I’ll remove anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

Orion took the papers. “You wouldn’t dare, bitch,” she said, forcing lightness into her voice. “This is your story. I’ll be okay with however you tell it. I’m just happy a shrink isn’t the one writing it.”

“Yet!” Shelby said, chuckling. “And it’s our story, Orion,” she corrected. “I know I wasn’t there to