𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋- 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄

"𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐘?"

Billy's voice was loud in my ears, deep against the high-pitched beeping of a heart-rate monitor.

I groaned, rubbing my eyes with my hand and opening them- receiving a sound of relief from a woman- my mother, I assumed.

"Thank God! Are you ok?"

I nodded, pushing myself up by my arms with the help of Stu, who handed me a plastic cup filled with water and assisting it to my lips before placing it back on the tray beside me and sitting back down, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs nervously.

I took a moment to compose my thoughts and attempt to recollect my memory, which was hazy.

"I'm ok" I replied groggily, watching as she stood up and held her cheap, black leather bag to her side, pushing her leopard-print bra further up and her pink tank down until she was practically naked, "god, mom! Could you not?!"

She scoffed, flipping me off before taking a shot from a bottle of liquor-store Vodka and leaving without another word, not even a 'goodbye'.

Billy and Stu took turns shooting daggers at her whilst I rubbed my nose, which had an oxygen tube attached to it.

"What the hell's her problem? She can't stay with her daughter who was nearly murdered?!" Stu argued, taking her seat next to my head as Billy sat quietly tapping his foot on the floor and biting his nails- he seemed to be calculating... scheming?

"Nah, you should have noticed by now," I started as I peeled by eyes away from Billy, "me and my sister were just a reason for dad to stick around, now the fucker's dead she doesn't care."

Billy scoffed at that, standing from his bed to loom over my exhausted frame, pushing hair from my eyes as his intense own ones pooled into them, telling me: "you should get some sleep, Vee. It's been a day".

I switched on at that, turning my head to see Stu's face wash in realisation, "oh yeah! You don't know how long you've been out, do you? Oh man, it's been like one whole day, Vee!"

I looked outside the window, it was still light but the clouds were a menacing force spreading through the sky like a plague.

"I... I gotta go, Vee," Billy began as he used one arm to swoop his own hair back, the other propping him up above me. The whole time he was there, I couldn't control the rapid pace my heart was beating at, which reflected on the monitor that was now running for its money, "but the nurse said once you woke up you could stay at one of our places- Stu's?"

I looked to the Macher boy, who was playing with the woven material of his sweatshirt but looked up at the mention of his name, "oh, yeah. But we have to stay out of the boiler room, mom's super weird about that" he replied with a shrug, seemingly tired as he yawned.

I nodded, equally as eager to escape the plastic sheets I was lay in and get some proper rest- not just the time I've been passed out in this small hospital.

𓆈

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑,

Stu had helped me sign my discharge papers and even offered to pay for my bills, which I had declined until he pushed my wheelchair out of the door and payed for them- Billy had long gone home.

So it was just us now, sat in Stu's car that he said 'needed an oil change, but whatever', and driving through the deserted streets at 2AM, watching as nothing but wind blew past- my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I answered it to hear a voice I hated- Gale Weathers.

"Ivy Monclear? Is that you? I would like to ask you a few questions, is that alright?"

She barely gave me time to speak between her 'greeting', breathlessly firing words at my dazed mind, "you just did, bitch. Now fuck off" I groaned, ending the call and shoving it into my pocket- I was still wearing my joggers, only now I had on one of, I'm assuming, Stu's sweatshirts that I've seen him wear on several occasions- it smelt faintly of cigarettes, firewood and his favourite cologne.

"That reporter bitch?" he asked as we trundled steadily through the secluded path up-to his home, my eyes closed as I felt him grab my hand.

"Uh... yeah, yeah. That bitch" I replied stiffly- hyper away of the way the pad of his thumb wiped across the back of my hand.

He has a girlfriend, Ivy.

He doesn't like you, Ivy.

Stop it, Ivy.

I shrugged his grip off, wrapping my arm around my right leg that had accommodated by chin resting on the kneecap, yawning before I heard Stu ask, angrily: "what the fuck was that for?"

I turned to him, surprised and with furrowed brows, "what was what for?"

He sucked his teeth, keeping his eyes on the road, "snatching your hand away like I don't hold it all the time, what was that for?" he explained like I was a child, waving his now empty appendage around for emphasis.

"You're dating Tatum now, Stu. You can't just do shit like that... You and Tatum do shit like that, not me and you".

I heard him scoff as the car pulled to a stop outside his home, which was stupidly large but, his parents were rich and stupid.

"It doesn't matter, Vee! Don't you get that maybe I don't want Tatum?" he asked as he undid his seatbelt and mine, turning to me as the crazed look in his eye dulled.

"Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn't be dating her, asshole!" I snapped, climbing out of the passenger side and ignoring the woozy feeling as my feet pattered against the cold concrete floor.

"Ivy- God, will you wait?!"

"Just fuck off!" I called back over my shoulder, holding my still throbbing head.

He laughed lightly, and out of the corner of my eye I could see him wipe his bottom lip with his thumb, "you don't really want that, Sweetheart".

My body stiffened, this time for a different reason- dread.

I could see him freeze too, his hand stopped halfway from its path back to his side, his eyes stood stark and his face drained.

I swallowed thickly, the pain in my head suddenly gone as my heart drummed against my ribcage, "what did you call me?"

He didn't say anything.

He didn't try to protest his innocence.

He didn't try to backtrack.

He didn't try to excuse it.

And that's how I realised, that Stu Macher killed Casey Becker.

And I was alone with him, at his house.