Hit List

seventy | over

Bree's POV

All the lights are off in Jamie's house when I knock on the door.

I step from side to side, wrapping my arms around myself to find some sense of comfort. It doesn't work.

The door swings open and Jamie's wide smile greets me. Too wide. My eyebrows scrunch together. I've seen the faces of many people who have done bad things—I know Jamie is up to something. "What?"

"Welcome." He steps back, allowing me into his house. The lights in the passageway are on. It brings me back to the memories of the party he held here. That feels like it happened lifetimes ago.

The house smells amazing—like cookies and butter and warm, freshly baked bread. "Is this all you brought?" Jamie asks, pointing at the small black backpack that I carried with me.

"I sold my house. I gave away all of my things." I'm ready to start again. "It smells so good. Do you have anything to eat?"

"No."

"No?" I repeat. "But—"

"I did some research and found that usually when real estate agents sell houses, they try to make the house smell of fresh bread or cookies. I did that to make you feel at home, but I burnt them so I just bought some vanilla room spray and it did the job." He grins.

"You're going to all of these lengths for me. Why?" I'm flattered, but I don't deserve this kindness.

"Because, uh, do you maybe want to move in here? Like, for good." His hand goes to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously.

That's a big question.

There is a crashing sound from upstairs. "Don't tell me you got a puppy." Of course he didn't. There is someone here.

I knew he was up to something.

I push past him and run. He tries to block me but I'm faster and I have better reflexes than him. My footsteps thud along with my heart as I run up the stairs, not knowing what to expect.

"Wait, it's a . . ." It's Elijah. He's standing in the guest bedroom. What is he doing here? My heart can't decide if this is good or bad. "Surprise," Jamie finishes.

He completely abandoned me. He hates me. I want to leave.

I turn to look at Jamie, hurt. "Jamie, why?" I sold everything, trusting that this would be a safe space for me for the time being.

I mean, I knew Elijah would come around at some point since they are best friends, but not so soon. Not in the room I'm supposed to be sleeping in.

"You need to talk."

"B—Jamie!" He pushes me into the room and pulls the door shut. I immediately tug it open but he has already locked it. "Open the door! This isn't funny! Did you plan this?"

"No," his muffled voice says through the door. "I told you not to run upstairs, but now you'll have to talk. I'll be back in an hour. Enjoy."

"Jamie! Open the door!" My voice lowers to sound threatening. "I swear, I'll—"

"You want to get away from me that badly?" Elijah sounds different. His voice is rougher than I remember.

I turn, pressing myself against the door and wishing for an escape. "No, I just . . . I need to pee," I lie. At that, the corners of his lips lift slightly. A smile? For me? "I didn't think you'd want to be anywhere near me."

"I don't."

In fact, from his previous silence, it doesn't seem like he cares about anything at all.