Dead Pretty - Samantha Towle Page 0,6

all.

I have no friends. No life.

I basically have this cell phone in case of emergency and so I can call my brother, Cole.

I have to call him once a week to check in. It was our agreement when I told him I was moving away from the only home I had ever known.

I bring the screen to life and dial Cole’s number.

He answers on the second ring.

The sound of his voice saying, “Hi,” fills my chest with warmth.

It’s that feeling of home. Only my brother can give me that feeling now.

“Hey,” I say to him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Miss my sister. Wish she would let me see her.”

“Cole …” I sigh.

“I know; I know,” he utters. “I just think it’s crazy that you won’t let me see you. Even crazier is that you won’t tell me where you are.”

“Can we not go over this again?” We have this exact same conversation every single time we speak. “You know my reasoning.”

Cole doesn’t know where I am. I didn’t tell him when I left.

It’s not that I don’t trust him; of course I do. He is the only person in the whole world I do trust. I just worry if he came to visit me here, and he was followed …

A shudder runs through me.

After the murders and Tobias’s trial, Chicago just didn’t feel like home anymore. There was the press, constantly outside my house, and then there were the crazies, fans of Tobias. I guess I just didn’t feel safe in Chicago any longer.

I wanted to get away from people. Including my brother. I know that sounds awful, and I would never say it to him out loud. And it’s not that I don’t love him or want to be around him … but I just wanted a fresh start.

To be somewhere no one knew me or about what had happened.

“Just because I know your reasoning doesn’t mean that I agree with it. But fine, I will never bring it up again.” His tone is annoyed. It’s been like that a lot recently when we talk. And he also says that every time we speak—that he won’t bring it up again, but he always does.

But I can’t be angry with him. He’s done so much for me. Taken care of me my entire life.

“Thank you,” I say softly, trying to appease the situation, not wanting the only family I have left to be angry with me. “So, what have you been up to since we last spoke?”

“Just the usual. Work. Go to the gym. Got a haircut yesterday.”

“You change the style? Dye it? Let me guess … you got a blue Mohawk.”

He chuckles, and the sound makes me smile.

“Nothing that interesting. Just a trim.”

“Damn. I think you would rock a blue Mohawk.”

“Hardly.” He laughs again.

My brother is a handsome guy. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, six feet tall.

We don’t look much alike.

“Have you been to the cemetery recently?” I ask him.

Our adoptive parents died in a car accident. Just before Tobias made his appearance in my life.

“No.” His answer is short and blunt.

Cole doesn’t like to talk about our parents’ deaths. Their deaths hit him hard. They hit me hard too. Losing them was devastating. I loved them so much.

Cole and I haven’t been lucky … if that’s the right word … when it comes to parents.

Our biological parents died when I was four and Cole was eight. They were murdered.

I don’t recall much about them, only the vague memory of what they looked like. But Cole remembers them. Not that he will talk to me about them either.

I think it’s harder for him because he has those memories of our biological parents.

Cole has lost two sets of parents that he loved. And I’m sure I would have loved our biological parents too. But it’s hard to mourn what you barely remember.

After our parents were gone, we were placed in a foster home, and we were lucky to both be adopted by our foster parents. Not many kids in the foster system get to stay with siblings. Honestly, I don’t think I would have coped without Cole.

Well, I know I wouldn’t have coped without him. He’s definitely the stronger of the two of us.

But it wasn’t until Tobias that I started to think that maybe I was cursed. First, my biological parents had been murdered. Then, my adoptive parents had died. Then, Tobias started stalking me and killing people.

Death follows me around; that’s for sure.

I think that Cole is