A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

0.4 i just have to release my inner jack

It's two thirty a.m. and already, I am planning Jack Lim's death. I'll bash him in the head with that stupid coffee cup he always brings until blood trickles down his forehead. Or maybe I'll choke him until his limbs stop moving. Or maybe I'll accidentally shove him while he's driving, promptly driving us both off the cliff. 

I'll be dead, but at least I won't have to hear his relentless nagging. "Don't tell him anything, okay?" Jack repeats for the tenth time. "Don't tell him where I work, what I usually eat, or when my birthday is, and especially don't—" 

"I don't even know when your birthday is," I say. 

"Good," says Jack, as he drives up the cliff. 

Outside the safety of the black Audi is the scary big world. Below lies the ocean, water foam lapping against the shore madly, begging for us to accidentally nudge to the right a bit and fall into the water. I shudder and turn away from the view. 

Jack pulls up to a gravel driveway, where there's a wooden house that's practically falling apart. He gets out of the driver's seat, waiting for me to do the same—but I've chickened out. I keep my hands clutched on my seatbelt. "Actually, never mind," I squeak out. "I don't want to meet your friend. I'd rather go to the police." 

"Dramatic as always," Jack says dryly, crossing over to the passenger side and opening the door. I stubbornly remain seated. "Isla. Get out of the seat. I didn't drive forty minutes for you to act like a child." 

"An adult would have the same response as me!" I insist, thrusting a finger at the house. "It looks like a murderer lives there." 

"There is no murderer. Also, if you had your doubts, you should've brought them forward earlier." 

I scowl. "I was in shock." 

Jack is a mixture of exasperation and pissed off-ness, but I'm just as stubborn as he is. We maintain eye contact and suddenly, it turns into a staring contest. Whoever looks away first loses and it'll be humiliating for the loser. 

His light brown eyes clash against mine and it's hard to breathe. Jack has practice scaring the crap out of people just through his intimidating gaze, and it shows. My lungs are starting to burn and I remind myself to breathe. 

I force a deep breath, but it's a mistake. The exhale comes out too loud and I internally cringe. Jack doesn't miss a beat, his mouth curving into a mocking smile. 

"Okay, Isla. Are we going to get out of the car, walk to the house, and knock on the door? Just as planned?" 

"No, Jack," I return sweetly. "You're going to get back to the driver's seat, drive me home, and we'll pretend this situation never happened." 

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose. "We had a deal." 

"I was drunk," I defend. "That's not consent." 

He considers that, before nodding grudgingly. "Fine." He turns on his heels and walks towards the house, leaving me in the car alone. 

A lone breeze whisks past me and a feeling of doom sweeps through the air. I hear a crow caw in the distance, before the caw's silence. I curse loudly, before getting out of the passenger seat. 

"Goddamn you, Jack," I whisper, stomping to the wooden house. Jack leans smugly against the door, arms crossed with a satisfied smile. 

"I thought you weren't going to come," he calls arrogantly. I ball my fist together, imagining a wrecking ball swinging at him. For once, the universe must be on my side. The door collapses underneath Jack's weight and he trips, the smile instantly disappearing.