The Psycho Is Innocent | ꪜ

Chapter 11: Blackmail

          Sensing that I wasn't going to budge, he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing to slits, "the reason why I broke up with you was that I was blackmailed into doing so." I couldn't deny nor hide the fact that this struck a chord. I could feel my lips falling, my eyes widening, my eyebrows rising high as a disbelieved huff of air parted through my lips. Was he being serious? The look on his face seemed to correspond with it. He was in a state of rage, barely hanging on by a thread.

          Despite my silence, he continued, "I received a note in my locker demanding that I broke up with you or someone close to me would get hurt. I thought it was a stupid prank so I didn't take it seriously. A week later there was a dead rat sitting on my porch with another note, time is ticking, it said. At that time I figured maybe this is real, but I didn't think whoever this was had the balls to hurt anyone. Two days later someone threw a brick through my mother's window, luckily she wasn't in her room but I found another note, one more day.

         I took it seriously this time, so I went to the police station and reported it but they said there was nothing they could do about it. Whoever this blackmailer was found out that I went to the authorities, not only that but my time ran out. So that following day my sister ended up in the hospital after a hit and run." The look on his face was the embodiment of pain and anger. Even if he may have been lying, expressions spoke louder than words. "Larson. . ."

         "I broke up with you the next day."

         "You didn't tell me."

          His eyes met mine. "What do you think, Ariel? I got a note that if I told anyone, especially you, my mom would be next. A day later, I see Tobias Aspen of all people approaching you in the courtyard. Then suddenly you guys were glued to one another. I thought it was a coincidence but finally, it clicked. He had two whole years to befriend you, but he chose to do so the moment we broke up. That couldn't be a coincidence."

          "You're saying Tobias was the one who blackmailed you? Seriously?" How did he expect me to feel any ounce of compassion towards him when he accuses my boyfriend of blackmail and attempted murder under the same breath? "I approached him the day it all clicked," he resumed, ignoring my statement, "he looked genuinely clueless when I confronted him but I've seen that look before, I'm not stupid! I couldn't fight him because I knew I'd lose you completely. So I let him go but not before calling him a psychopath."

           "You did what?" I whispered.

            His eyes met mine, he then smirked. "I called him a psychopath, Ariel. Because psychopaths don't like it when people call them out. They don't like it when they're discovered. And you know what he did? He beat me up in a hallway filled with students. He slammed me against a locker effortlessly despite me being physically stronger than him and he beat me up." He seemed to be proud of that. The sight was frightening. Did he take pleasure in knowing Tobias beat him up?

          I knew about the fight but I didn't care. Why? Because I knew Tobias wouldn't attack him without being provoked. From that one conversation in the bathroom, it was clear that Tobias didn't truly care about what Larson did and with who. He just cared how I felt. So for him to beat up Larson, I knew he had a reason.  "Tobias is a psychopath."

          I chuckled, "oh really? So you're a psychologist now? How did you come to that conclusion? By simply suspecting he was the one blackmailing you by a string of conveniences and then him beating you up because you provoked him? Do you even know what the traits of a psychopath are? If you did, you wouldn't be saying this right now. I guess you aren't as smart as you think you are."

          "You're talking as if Tobias isn't sitting in a cell after his fingerprints were found on two dead girls' bodies, Ariel." He slammed his fist down onto the table, shaking the platform beneath my hands. I tightened my hold on the coffee mug, fighting back the urge to punch him in the face.