A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

02. i said, we're roleplaying

Jack looks unsettled, as he mouths, What the hell was that? In response, I mouth back, This is all your fault, Jack Lim. 

"Oh, is that so?" Right on cue, a slow amusement enters his voice. Irene probably imagines Jack trailing a finger down my cheekbone. In reality, he's looking intensely at the door, willing for her to leave. "I can do that for you. Kneel." 

"Okay," I squeak out in the British accent. 

Jack's voice is rough and low. "Since we have an audience member, I know you're even more excited—" 

Footsteps recede away. Jack and I stare at the door, holding our breaths. When it's clear Irene is not coming back, we exhale in relief. There's an awkward silence, as everything painfully sinks in: Irene thinks Jack does BDSM with a mysterious British woman. 

"Let's never mention this again," I say, and Jack agrees with a disgruntled grunt. "Anyways—" 

"Anyways, I'm not finished scolding you," Jack cuts in. I hold my tongue. Jack always finds the smallest details to scold me about, but this time, it includes serious factors like a dead body. "Are you an idiot, Isla? Would you not find it a bit strange that—oh, I don't know—a random person approached you to curse your co-worker? And that they had the candles prepared beforehand? It means they walked around, prepared to offer a curse to whichever idiot would fall for their sketchy offer." 

I feel the need to defend myself, but even I know my argument is weak. "I thought they felt bad," I mumble and Jack scoffs, raising his eyes to the ceiling. 

The unsaid message hangs through the air: What an idiot. 

I want to melt into wax so that I can sink into the bathroom floor and disappear forever if only to escape from Jack's disproving frown. "So," I say. "What will you do now?" 

He's thrown off. "What?" 

I'm ticking everything off on my fingers. "You've seen me get rejected, murder my crush, and pretend I'm into being handcuffed." I feel like crying and it must show because Jack looks alarmed. "I bet you're over the moon by now. You've always wanted to see me humiliated." 

"No, that's not—" Jack sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "I wouldn't gloat over something like murder." 

"Okay," I say dubiously. I don't believe anything he says. I bet he's secretly cackling at my demise. "Well, aren't you going to call the police? You wouldn't want to be seen as my criminal-in-partner." 

Jack blinks, before looking down at the phone in his hand. "Right," he says slowly, dialing the emergency number. 

It's eternity once more and I hold my breath, as the phone rings. On the third ring, the police answer. "How can I help you?" 

Jack doesn't respond. He's looking at the dead body. A few seconds trickle by and I tap on his forearm. "Jack," I hiss. "The phone." 

He doesn't pay any attention to me, staring harder at Aiden. I snap a finger in his face. No response. Perhaps the body has caused him to freeze up. 

I take the phone from his hand. "Hi," I say. I take a deep breath, before rushing the words out. "There's a dead bo—" 

Jack aggressively snatches the phone from me. I scowl, peeved. It's apparent that Jack wants to be the one who ends the final blow, but jeez. Taking the phone from me so aggressively is on another level. 

"Sorry," Jack says smoothly. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the final ax to swing down, chopping me into little pieces. "My niece stole the phone and accidentally called the police." 

What? I open my eyes a slit. He's not exposing me? "Yes, I'm very sorry," he continues. "I should've kept a better eye on her. Have a lovely day." 

He ends the call and silence drenches us. I watch his unreadable expression and a sudden thought occurs to me: Jack could secretly be a murderer and now that I've accidentally murdered someone, I've re-opened up his desire to kill. 

He's going to kill me. Right here and now, with no one to hear my piercing screams. When the police arrive, they'll find two dead bodies and Jack will have fled home, calmly watching Coraline while eating caramel-drizzled popcorn. 

I wait for him to whip out a knife, but all he does is examine my face. Maybe he's carving my face to memory so that he will remember me after I'm dead. Good. I hope my ghost does a good job haunting him. 

"You do match the description," Jack murmurs. What? Has someone ordered for me to be assassinated? I must have voiced that out loud because Jack casts an irritated look. "Of course not. Quit being so dramatic." 

Jack continues to scrutinize me until I finally lose it and snap, "What? If you're going to kill me, do it already." 

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to help you."

I watch him suspiciously. "How?" 

"I'll help you hide the dead body but in return, you have to be my girlfriend." 

*** 

author's note: happy friday ya'll! a lot has happened in this chapter so here's my question: how would you describe isla and jack's personality? anyways, i hope you enjoy this week's update!