Chapter 16
My eyes were damp, breaths short and painful. Staring at the limp girl in front of me stained my brain. That would have been me. That was so close to being me if Peter hadn't showed up. I had to remind myself it wasn't me. I was kneeling on the bed, not floating above my own body. That could have been me, but I was lucky – and I was still here.
Why did that happen? Hell, did it happen? Because my fucking lord, after everything that has happened, and now this... maybe I really was delusional or crazy. What other explanation was there? Nothing made sense to me anymore. Shit, was this even real? Was I even alive? Did I or did I not have a vagina?
Despite the shadows and dark room, the light from the window allowed me to see Peter. Standing next to the bed, he crossed his arms and studied the dead girl. He was insanely calm – that's what struck me. For what he just did, for taking someone's life and saving mine, his demeanor was relaxed. As if he was observing an exhibit at a museum and not someone he killed.
A mild irritation was stamped on his face when he glanced to me. "You know, I really cannot fucking stand you. This might traumatize you and there's nothing I can do to make you forget any of this. All because you had to be high-and-mighty and make a point by calling the cops." With a groan, he locked the door before grabbing the edge of the comforter, tossing it over the body and tucking it in around her.
The sick and gut-deep unease settled into my core. I didn't know how to move. I didn't know what to think. Didn't know what to do. Through my shallow breaths, I could only stare at her. But when her hallow lifeless eyes disappeared under the comforter, that brought me back to some level of reality.
Blinking, I took the whole picture in, wrapping my arms around my trembling stomach. What was he doing? Why was he wrapping her up? Wait, why was he shirtless? Why was the window now broken? My brain defaulted to the most obvious question though. "Why did she try to kill me?" I demanded through my hard breath, wincing in pain.
"Why? Because I couldn't stop her in time from trying. Because you called the cops."
I've never been through something this horrific. The gravity of the situation started to sink in more. The shock started to melt as I watched him. Watched him round the bed to better position her. He carelessly, disgustingly, tossed her dangling arm that was hanging out of the half-done cocoon. Her hand flopped on the bed, and he folded the rest of the comforter around her.
My heart jolted with each movement and shift of the bed under me. My breaths didn't slow. The panic in me started to set-in. Watching him wrap her, I darted off the bed.
"What are you doing?! You... T-This is a crime scene."
"A crime scene, huh?"
"Yeah, so don't touch anything before the police get here!" I screamed with wide eyes. "You're sick! What are you doing?! We need the police!"
"Well, don't worry. They are already here. Because you called the fucking cops...."
His pissy mood wasn't as unsettling as his lack of shock or emotion. My heart was racing harder and faster with each second, each knowing second of what happened. Of what I just went through and of what I was witnessing now! Oh my god, this was so sick and terrible! I couldn't contend with it. I was reaching my limit by watching him wrap up her body fully now that I was off the bed.
My panic took back over. I would have yelled by now, screamed for help, but my lungs burned so badly. I turned, bolted to the door. Needing out, needing the police, needing away from this hell, needing away from her body, from him, from what he was doing, and needing—
Peter's strong arm roughly circled me from behind. Pulling me back into his chest, his other hand cupped my forehead.
***
The summer breeze gently caressed my face. The music of the distant waves was soothing. With eyes closed, it was like free-floating music. I breathed in the refreshing scent that went with it. I also smelled... waffles? Then, a shred of last night, the flash of the dead girl's eyes... caused my own to fly open.
I was laying across the leather backseat of someone's SUV. Thankfully, the vehicle wasn't in motion and nobody else was inside. However, all the windows were down and the door at my feet was ajar. Where was I? Was last night a bad dream? Oh, nope, sure wasn't. Looking down at myself, I was clad in the same clothes as last night. Except a thick deep crimson ran from dip of my chevage, pooling out and staining along my stomach.
When I sat up, I noticed the SUV was in an empty and long parking lot. This vehicle and the single row of parking spaces faced a small drop to the pink-gleaming beach below. The sun was still low in the bright sky, beaming brightly into the vehicle; it was clearly morning. Behind the lot was a street, a few shops on the other side, and the rest of the small downtown area I've visited before. Well, I guess this is a start. At least I recognized where I was – back in my new home of Bellport. What a charming home it was turning into.
I recognized I also wasn't alone. Looking past my skirt and strappy sandals, outside of the open door... there he was. Yes, you know who. Peter. He was no longer shirtless and wore a white tee with black pants. He was casually lounged in a folding chair, eating from a to-go box. You know, as if he didn't save my life by killing a girl last night. As if my last memory wasn't of him wrapping up her body like a psycho!
I wasn't hyperventilating like last night. I wasn't in the same state of panic. But the shock was still there. I wasn't sure whether to trust him now or fear and hate him even more. Wasn't sure if I should feel safe or in danger. Wasn't sure of anything. What happened, what I saw, what I experienced... surpassed everything that happened before last night. It made my thoughts wander aimlessly in a hazy maze.
Slowly, I scooted towards the open door. Reaching the edge of the leather seat, I mindlessly tucked my legs under me and faced out. When our eyes met, he plucked one last bite from his fork, set the box down, and just... watched me. As if waiting for my reaction. Honestly, I didn't know how to react. Searching his face, his brown deep eyes though, it really made me pause. This felt like... this felt like deja-vu.
This moment was eerily similar to my major car accident. Actually... thinking about it... it was way too similar. Because of a girl in the road, I crashed my car and almost died. Because of a girl at a party, I was strangled and almost died. Both times Peter saved me – and both times he caused more questions than answers. Both times, he was present when waking up the next morning. Wow. Let's just hope the similarities end there. Because if he tried telling me my memory was wrong – that I 'was drunk and spilled fruit punch all down my shirt' – I swear I will kick his teeth in.
However, I realized there was one more similarity. The night of my brutal car accident... I couldn't recall how the night ended. Until now. Until realizing my last memory of last night was him grabbing me as I ran for the door.
"You... you knocked me out," I whispered.
He sighed, as if he just entered the most boring class of his life. "Yeah?"
"Yes! And you did it before! After my crash, you put your hand on my fucking forehead and that's the last thing I remember, and that's the last thing I can remember about last night. You somehow knocked me out and that's why I woke up on your couch, and that's why I'm here right now!"
Pieces were falling together. They didn't make a clear picture, but they were coming together. And what do I get for calling him out? What do I get after everything?!
Nothing but a blank stare. "And?"
"And?! So, you admit it. You knocked me out."
"I didn't knock you out. I made you fall asleep."
Well, at least he actually was admitting to something! Staring daggers at him, I smirked. "Huh. Wait a second," I said in a high and sarcastic voice. "That means after my crash, I didn't 'refuse' to go to the hospital? I didn't fall asleep in your truck? And instead, you forced me to pass out against my will and tried to cover it all up by saying I was delusional? Huh."
His bored expression turned amusing. "Validation is clearly important to you."
"Hearing you admit you lied is important to me," I snapped just as I turned to step out.
"Stay in the car. We don't need anyone seeing you."
Sitting on the edge of the seat, I froze and glanced down to my blood-stained shirt. Taking it in more only hiked my anxiety even more at last night's reminder. "What did you do with her? What happened? Why were you wrapping her up?!" I demanded as the horrific image entered my mind. I was suddenly more uncomfortable being here in his vehicle and feet away from him. While it filled me with fear, the anger and disgust were just as strong. "Why did you do that? You-you sick psycho, you wrapped her body up. You didn't get the police, did you?"
Sighing, he rubbed the stress-lines on his forehead. "Listen... do you remember what I told you before? About looking the other way?"
Oh, he didn't fucking dare. He did not just say that.
"Are you fucking serious?" my voice broke. "Look the other way?"
His only response was to stare at me. Stare at me with blank and stern eyes. It was all the answer I needed – and it was a painful hard kick to the gut.
"You..." I scoffed, swallowing and trying to stay calm, but it was so damn difficult. "You can't just cover up what happened. Why would you?! There is no reason for what you did! There is no reason—what, do you think you'll get in trouble? She's the one that tried strangling me. The police have to know! People will find her, will be looking for her, and there was no reason to hide it from the cops! It was her fault!"
"There is actually plenty of reason to hide it from the cops," he said nonchalantly.
"Why? Because you're a scared bitch? Listen, I don't want this coming back to me! I was seen going upstairs where a girl was last seen. Where she was then killed," I scoffed, shaking my head. "I have no idea how you managed getting my unconscious body out of there – or what you did with the dead one that people will be looking for – but there is evidence all over that room! I-I-I cannot just look the other way!" I rambled with watering eyes.
"As far as I'm concerned, you just had an intense nosebleed."
Wow. He actually went there. Nosebleed stains, not fruit-punch, but did I not just call it guys? That he would pull this ballsy card again? Now, this was one more unfortunate similarity. First, my leg didn't break. Now, a girl didn't bleed and die over me. I could not believe this guy. I wasn't even scared of him; I was shocked and pissed! The nerve, the audacity, I just could not!
This asshole made it so difficult to not have a full-on freak out right now. After admitting he lied, after all that happened... we were back to this? No explanation, no answers? Just this same fucking game? He didn't seem to be having fun himself, so why the fuck were we still playing?!
"An intense nosebleed is why my shirt is covered in blood," I mumbled in disgust, blinking my watery eyes. I managed keeping my composure, but I felt sick to my stomach. I kept the tears back, I didn't punch him, but I wanted to.
He must have seen just how done I was. Standing, he walked over and rested a palm against the car frame. Facing where I was sitting, a few dirty blonde locks fell over his pretty face when he craned closer. For once, his eyes had a thoughtful glint. "You don't have to worry," he said in a soft, but firm voice. "Nothing will come back to you. Nothing. I took the body elsewhere and nobody will be looking for her. The cops, everyone at the party, have no awareness of what occurred. You should have no awareness of what occurred, but we can't all get what we want. There. Is that good enough?"
How was this even a conversation? This wasn't a car accident, this wasn't stalking. He snapped a girl's neck and hid her body! I'm supposed to be okay with that? "No. That almost makes it worse! Why did you have to hide her body?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Then I'm calling the police—"
"No, you are not. There is a reason I left you in your bloody clothes, Josephine."
"What? Trying to prove you actually aren't a creep?"
"Because you made it clear you have quite a boner for the police. I'm not surprised you want to report what happened last night. Unfortunately for you though, you are wearing and now possess the only evidence that she was killed. You get them involved, they will lock you away."
"You expect me to believe there is no other evidence?"
"There isn't. How else am I suppose to make sure you don't report this?"
My jaw unlocked in shock. If he covered everything up, my bloody clothes would not paint me in a good light. Eyes wide, my breath hitched – in absolute horror, anger, and panic. "You're trying to pin this on me?"
"Not at all. I'm trying to keep you from going to the cops. You would make a mess when I've already taken care of it. So, your clothes are my insurance."
"Someone is going to be looking for her! What if the cops trace it back to me?! You are forcing a smoking gun on me!" I exclaimed, jutting to my shirt. "I don't know what the fuck I ever did to you for you to try and ruin my life like this, but—"
His deep brown eyes stayed steady on mine. "Josephine. This will not get back to you. Trust me when I say this: no cops will be knocking at your door. Nobody is looking for her."
"How do you know?"
"It's as if she never existed." He slowed his voice, stressing the next words. "What happened is done. Calling the cops nearly got you killed last night. Calling them again would be another mistake. There is no reason to. Believe me... this will not get back to you, okay?"
"So, what am I supposed to do?! Forget it happened? I need some kind of an explanation! This just like with the crash – this is the same exact thing! Do you not get that I almost fucking died last night?!"
"You almost died, but I saved you," he snapped. "If you hadn't called the cops, I would have found her before she found you. It was simple luck I even made it to you in time. You're welcome, by the way. Thanks to me, you get to continue living, and the price is simply to move on."
He was right. He did save me. Despite all the other elements and circumstances, despite being left in the dark about everything, bottom line: I was alive because of him. That was something I couldn't take lightly.
"I... I am grateful." Gaze searching his face, I let out a deep sigh. "Alright. Let's say I actually ignore all that has happened to me. Let's say I look the other way. Every time I've tried, more crazy shit still happens. Since you killed her... is it done? Whatever is going on, is it over? That might make it a little easier at least."
He pursed his lips and paused for a long moment. "No, it's not over."
Well, everybody... I tried. I tried to consider letting it go (which was insanely gracious of me to begin with), but he just shot that possibility out of the sky. I let out a humorless laugh. "You want me to forget what happened, not ask questions, simply ignore last night and everything before that... when crazy and awful things will continue happening around me? You're out of your mind."
"Josephine... look the other way." Then he unzipped his nylon black jacket and handed it to me. "Cover yourself up and go home. Your car is across the street with your purse and keys inside."
Throat growing thick, I looked away. I've never been this overwhelmed in my life. Ever. I watched him kill a girl last night after she tried killing me. How could I forget that? It was so wrong – so incredibly wrong to push aside. How could he expect that of me? To not go to the police? To forget? How was I supposed to look the other way if all I see are more unexplained things?
Why did that girl try to kill me? Was it the same girl that stood in the road and caused me to crash? And did Peter know it was going to happen? That's probably 'his friend' he was looking for at the party. I was grateful he saved my life, but I still cared about what happens in my life. I wanted to know why I almost died and if it might happen again!
Sure enough, my car was parallel parked a few shops up on the other side of the road.
Ripping his jacket from his hand, I stepped out onto the cement. "Well, I'm glad my car magically appeared across the street. Maybe tomorrow it will be parked in the sky, but don't worry, I'll 'look the other way' if that happens."
"Great. Glad we're on the same page."
Flustered, I zipped up the baggy jacket with a scowl and marched towards the road.
"No need to thank me for healing your neck either. It was no trouble," he sneered.
My legs continued towards the road... but my chest tumbled. My eyes widened. I didn't look back, didn't stop walking until I reached my car, but my god... I did not feel an ounce of pain from where I was almost strangled. The second I was in my car, I immediately pulled down the visor mirror and felt around my neck. There was no bruising. Not even a soreness or an ache. There was no indication that my neck was in a vice of tight fingers last night. Nothing....
One more similarity. Like my broken leg... my neck was completely healed.
Obviously, I couldn't think within the bounds of what was possible anymore. Somehow, this man had the ability to heal me; maybe he gave me some crazy kind of medicine. But the 'how's' didn't bother me as much as the 'whys' at this point. This was one more thing I couldn't explain. This asshole acted like he could do whatever he wanted with me, even if it has been to benefit me. It made me feel weak, pushed around, embarrassed, and completely vulnerable. So, knowing more could happen, having him confirm more will happen... I was fucking over it!
Tears streaming, I rested my head against the wheel. That jaded and bitter asshole! I had a right to know what's been happening in my life! He had all the answers – and refused to share! And then, for him to have the balls to say this wasn't over... I mean what the fuck?! No, I was done! This wasn't just some other coincidence! He killed a girl last night and acted like it was nothing! Like it was okay! It made me want to say fuck it and drive to the police station anyway. For how little he shared, I did fully believe his claim of there being no evidence of her death though.
A ring and vibration came from my purse in the passenger seat. Blinking with a sigh, I dug my phone out and saw it was Liz. Just perfect. She had to be so worried. Time to turn that worry into anger, right guys?
"Hello?" I answered, wincing in advance.
"Jos! Oh, thank fucking god! Are you okay?! Where are you?"
"I'm fine. I'm so sorry I didn't get ahold of you. I went to a party last night, drank too much, and decided to spend the night there instead of driving home. I'm sorry I didn't call or anything; I was asleep before I even knew it." Well, that part at least wasn't a lie.
She didn't say anything for a long moment. "I'm... I'm glad you were smart and didn't drive after drinking. But Jos, I called your phone 40 times! I was about to call the police! If you didn't pick up within the hour, I might have even called into work. All because you couldn't call me before you fell asleep. I happily give you your freedom to be independent and live your life, but give me some peace of mind and tell me what is happening before you just don't come home for the night, okay?"
I was not use to her yelling at me. Maybe that was a sign we were getting closer? I don't know, but that's all I really wanted. Regardless, my eyes rimmed more for a different reason. "I am incredibly sorry. My phone was nowhere near me, but I should have been more conscious and... I just, I didn't mean to make you worried. I'm heading home right now though."
If only she knew what was going on. Hell, if only I knew what was going on. Because if she knew what was going on, then that would at least make one of us! I was so uneasy for how little I knew... for what happened and not knowing why... it made me sick.
However, I cannot stress this enough: the grass is always greener. Looking back... I wish I knew just how green and lush the grass I was standing on was. Looking back, not knowing anything wasn't the worst thing in the world. I wish I would have appreciated my confused and frustrated state of mind more. I would soon learn the beauty of being oblivious and that it wasn't a terrible thing. Because when my questions finally were answered... I never would look at the world the same again.