The Psycho Is Innocent | ꪜ

Chapter 5: You Don't Know Him

Present

THE BELL RANG above her head as she stepped into the warmth of the cafe. A waft of freshly baked pastries swivelled across her nostrils, almost knocking Ariel off her feet. She composed herself and marched up towards the counter, her eyes trailing over the menu hanging above her head. The cashier took notice of Ariel and smiled. "How may I help you today?" He asked.

"Can I have a medium black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin," she replied. With a nod of his head, he retreated to the back, leaving Ariel standing beside the counter, her lips pursed in a thin line. "I knew it was you, this town has an abnormal amount of redheads but you always seemed to stand out." At the sound of that familiar gruff voice, Ariel peered up, once again almost losing her footing as her hazel eyes interlocked with his comforting gaze. She fought to throw herself into his arms, reminding herself that he wasn't Tobias.

          They might as well have been twins. Bronde hair, freckled face, sharp nose. The only thing that set him apart from Tobias was the stubble on his face and his striking green eyes. Plus, he did appear older given that he is.

"Beckett," Ariel let out a heavy puff of air. When her order was placed down before her, Beckett quickly slid a ten-dollar bill towards the cashier, muttering that he could keep the change. He motioned towards Ariel's food then a vacant table, "come sit with me." Without a rebuttal, she followed in suit behind him, still trying but failing to process the events unfolding before her.

He pulled out the chair beneath the table and Ariel thanked him softly as she sat down. "How are you?" He asked as he ran his tongue over his chapped lips. She cleared her throat, unable to form a proper sentence for the first few seconds. If only she could put a bag over his head or close her eyes when she spoke. The resemblance was uncanny and unsettling. It didn't bother her up until now.

"Ariel?" He murmured softly, snapping her out of her reverie. She fought to regain concentration, "uh, uhm I'm good, Beckett. How are you? And your mom and dad?" At the sound of her own question, a flood of memories washed over her. She was hauled back to the afternoon of his arrest; perched up on the plush grey couch, Tobias sat beside her with one hand slung over her shoulder as they silently watched Mission Impossible.

The peacefulness which had fallen over the house that afternoon was disrupted by the frantic banging on their front door. Tobias had barely made it past the foyer before it was burst open, flooded by the Harleyville police department as they whipped out a pair of handcuffs, their target already ins ight. They shoved him against the wall, hands pinned to his back as they read him his rights. His mother could barely get a few sentences out through her hysterical crying as Ariel stood rooted in the hallway, unable to fathom the sight before her.

That week Beckett visited since it was the Christmas holidays. He travelled all the way from California only to see his brother arrested. By this time she expected him to have returned to college, but he was sitting right across her, taunting her with that face of his.

"She's holding up, Ariel. Keeping herself preoccupied with work. Although his trial date isn't set yet she can't process the fact that he's still being held in pre-trial detention. As you know they won't grant him bail because apparently, he's a flight risk which is just bullshit. And dad, he's worse than her. He's been drinking more, he's not sleeping. He's always down at the lawyer's office seeing what they can do, figuring out a way to bail him. So I can't go back to Cali, not when my parents are in this mess."

"And. . .how are you?" Beckett leaned back against the chair, a sigh parting through his lips. Ariel knew that the attention would be worse on him. Tobias' face was everywhere and he just so happened to appear like his twin, of course, he wasn't okay. "Everywhere I go I'm stared at. I either get treated like I'm the devil's incarnate or a hopeless child, there's no in-between. Seeing my parents go through all this trouble hurts me more than anyone's words. I'm not good, Ariel. I'm not.