Red Leather (Book 2)

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

There was only one time in which I attempted to find Chloe.

Daddy had made all the arrangements – our stuff had been sent off to Gwyneth's address, the house had already gotten bidders in hope of owning such a magnificent and traditional part of town (Gran's house had been around for centuries), and plans and blueprints had already been sent to Dad regarding our new house – the one we would live in for the rest of our days, and one that wouldn't have rabbit blood stains splattered across the carpet.

Before I could begin to feel relaxed again – before I could sink into the feeling of starting anew, with fresh faces and a different neighbourhood – I had to finish Chloe off. Once and for all.

Only then would the tension leave my shoulders.

Byron's funeral was held, even though there was no body to bury. Almost half of the school attended, myself and Daddy included, and together we mourned the untimely death of a boy who had far too much ahead of him. After saying some prayers that I didn't believe in, and giving condolences to the parents of the boy I despised, we made our way to our car and back home.

I kept a careful eye out for Chloe throughout the funeral. To my utmost frustration, she hadn't attended. Maybe she didn't want to – not after walking in on her boyfriend with another girl.

But after 3 days of no luck, my excuse was beginning to lose its credibility.

"Do you happen to know where Chloe is?" I asked one of my many friends, who also happened to be on the cheer squad with me. She wasn't a flyer – she wasn't light and agile enough – and had been stuck with the job of lifting me up in every routine.

She frowned, shaking her head a little. "No. She's been gone for days."

"I know!" I moaned, pretending to be concerned. "I just hope she's not hiding somewhere, dealing with all that grief by herself."

"Awww." She rubbed my arm, giving me a soft smile. "You're such a good friend. I'm sure she'll come around."

But she didn't.

My desperation took to new heights, and soon I was asking teachers if they had any idea where she was, particularly the ones she was close to. All of them were beyond useless, and it amazes me how any of them were able to get teaching diplomas without any intelligence whatsoever.

"Have you checked the toilet, dear?" the librarian offered kindly, apparently misinterpreting my question. Frustration boiled hot and cold all over my body, but I offered her a sickeningly sweet smile nonetheless. When she was busy reorganising columns, I lifted a nearby cup of coffee and tipped it over generously, spilling its hot contents all over her precious fucking books and paperwork. I sauntered out before she could come back.

***

The rage was bubbling up to the surface, and in those last couple of days, it had taken much more energy to compose myself. Day in and day out, my questioning took on a ruthless form, shocking my friends into spitting out whatever they knew.

"She – well, I only heard about it, I'm not sure if it's true..." Zenna Black finally caved, offering me whatever she could remember in that pitiable mind of hers.

"What?" I hissed, gripping her dark arm so hard my nails were close to piercing her skin. She looked down and made a noise of protest, looking at me as if I had lost my mind. "What did you hear?"

"Jesus, Rhea, why do you wanna know so badly? She's fine, she a big girl – Ow!" With a sharp twist, she broke free of my grip and glared accusingly, rubbing the tender welts.