A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

02. i said, we're roleplaying

"Contrary to popular opinion, Aiden isn't that stupid." Jack folds his arms. "I'm waiting for that explanation, Isla." 

"You're like my dad when he was trying to teach me physics back in high school. So scary." When he merely shoots me an unimpressed look, I frown back. "Well, I don't even know if I killed Aiden." 

"Give me your explanation, and I'll decide for you," he bites back. 

That's not fair. He's obviously going to declare me guilty. He hates me. "I'm waiting," he tells me and I grit my teeth. 

I hate this. I hate that I have to confess my sins to this asshole, but I do anyway. I tell him about the bathroom, about the stranger, about the candles and the petty curses and the final curse. Surprisingly, Jack doesn't interrupt. 

He just listens, his expression almost kind. When I finish my stilted storytelling, Jack is quiet for a moment. I think of statues in famous museums. He is one of those unreadable statues with blank expressions and neutral body language. I am someone who is analyzing Jack the statue, but I'm getting no hints on what he's thinking. 

"You're guilty," he finally says, and my heart sinks. "The timing is much too coincidental." 

"Magic isn't real," I say desperately. 

Jack doesn't say anything, but his expression does. It is of utter revulsion and disgust, and it makes me shrink back. "Are you an idiot?" Jack hisses. "That person in the bathroom—" 

The door handle jiggles, causing Jack's scary gaze to swing away from me. I exhale, visibly relieved. If he glared any longer, I would've collapsed under his gaze. Then my heart seizes up. There is someone outside the bathroom and there is also a dead body in the bathroom. 

"Is someone in there?" a feminine voice says, and I don't believe it. It's Irene. "You've been taking a while." 

Jack mutters a curse. "Go use the other bathroom," he snaps. "There's a woman's one, no?" 

A pause. "Jack?" 

"Yes." 

"I need to use the restroom and they're cleaning the woman's one, so..." Her voice trails off, and then she resumes with a burst of energy. "Is there a woman with you?" 

"What?" 

"I thought I heard a woman's voice in there." Irene sounds curious and I would be too. Jack is that person who is untouchable, both at work and in romance. He's so cold, he's scared away any potential relationships. 

"That's your imagination," Jack deadpans. 

Irene laughs, delighted. "Oh my God, there is a woman." 

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose and I watch him, while Irene rambles on about something. He's getting agitated. 

"We're roleplaying," he suddenly interrupts. 

"What?" 

"I said, we're roleplaying. You going to the other bathroom would be much appreciated." 

It doesn't sound like her footsteps are going away. She must be in shock. Jack scowls harder at the door, but Irene doesn't leave. Then he does the unexpected. 

"Baby, if you don't play along, the police are going to escort you away in handcuffs because you're being a bad girl," Jack says, voice velvety. Chills burst free from my skin. This is terrible to watch. Jack cuts his eyes towards me, sending a telepathic message: play along. 

How am I supposed to play along? Irene knows my voice. "No!" I burst out, speaking in a clearly fake high-pitched voice, combined with a terrible British accent. "I only want you to handcuff me."