The Dead Girls Club - Damien Angelica Walters Page 0,68

THIS BOOK WAS TERRIBLE. DON’T READ IT. I flipped through the rest of the pages, but there was nothing else.

I tried rubbing the words off, hoping they were pencil, but no such luck. Then I rolled closer to my nightstand lamp. The writing was sort of wobbly, but the loops on the h’s were squishy and fat the way I wrote mine, and the rest of the letters were messy. My teachers always said my penmanship was terrible. Yet I knew I hadn’t written this. HELP HER. I traced my thumb over the words again and shivered, even though I wasn’t cold at all.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

NOW

When Ryan gets home that night, I’m in the bathtub, the water hot enough to turn my skin scarlet. Thanks to a third glass of wine, I’m feeling fuzzy around the edges. Sinking deeper in the water, I mull over a movie for Ryan, desperate for routine and normalcy. Yet my mind returns to what Mikayla said, to Lauren arguing with someone. The other woman who was looking for her? Is she involved, too? Or is she trying to make Lauren stop?

I promise I won’t tell.

I drain my glass and the water and wrap myself in a robe. I can’t think about this any more tonight. My head hurts. I’m tired.

Ryan’s in the family room, pacing, cell phone to ear. I watch from the doorway.

“Maybe it would work, I don’t know. We have to do something. Heather’s—”

I jolt, my glass clinking against the doorframe.

Ryan turns and his face shifts into a grin, but it’s a little too wide, with too many teeth. “Hey, can I call you back later?” He doesn’t say goodbye.

“Everything okay?” I say.

“Uh-huh,” he says. “What about you?”

I hold up my glass. “It would be better if I had another.”

“I think we need some food, too.”

“Sure. I think we have enough leftovers. Or we can order in.”

“Okay,” he says, but the way he’s looking at me feels close to an inspection.

“Before I forget,” I say, aiming for the cinematic. “In a world where the impossible becomes fact, an offhand prophecy comes true, and a hunter becomes the prey.” The clue might be too vague, but I have faith he’ll figure it out. He always does.

“Finally she remembers,” he says, eyes lighting up. He stares off in the distance, then nods. “That’s a good one. I’ll have to think about it a bit.” Something else flashes across his face, too fleeting to settle.

While we make dinner, we talk about our days and a video he saw on YouTube, and although he seems fine, there’s something I can’t put my finger on. Some sort of tension between his words. I tell myself it’s the wine, the visit to Lauren’s apartment, what I said to Mikayla. And who knows? Maybe I’m right.

After the day I’ve had, it’s no surprise that my sleep is restless and I’m wide awake when the corners of the room begin to lighten. My mouth tastes sour, and there’s a small ache behind my forehead, but my thoughts are clear. In my dream, I was in a hole, shoveling the dirt out while someone unseen shoveled it back in.

Ryan rolls onto his stomach. Over his shoulder, I spy his phone on his nightstand. He didn’t make any other calls last night, nor did he receive any. His call, his mention of my name, was nothing, I’m sure. But why the quick hang-up?

I try to banish the questions but end up tiptoeing to his side of the bed. The name of his last caller isn’t one I’m expecting at all: NICOLE. A hundred questions flood my brain, and though I’m tempted to wake him up and ask, I return the phone and get back in bed.

Why are they talking? What are they talking about? I heard my name, but there’s no way either of them is involved in this. They never knew Becca. Never knew a thing about her.

Are they having an affair? That’s laughable. But I get back out of bed and check his phone again. No texts between them, but there were two other phone calls. Also a few calls from local numbers I don’t recognize. Ryan sighs and I freeze. I wait a few seconds, then replace the phone.

* * *

Pretending to be a guest, I call the hotel where Lauren works. On the verge of gushing, I say that Lauren did a wonderful job cleaning my room. The clerk on the phone says she’ll pass along the message. Then