"Thank you for picking me up," Angel said, rubbing the sheet white cast around her now broken arm.
Brooklyn gave a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets as they made their way to his car. "It's no problem," he said. He stopped in front of his car and tapped it. "You know what's weird?" He suddenly asked, his jaw set.
Angel stopped and looked up at him with a frown. "What?" She asked.
Brooklyn sighed and tapped the car again. "My car brakes were cut," he said with a frown.
Angel's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped. "What?" She blurted, outraged. "You mean, someone did this? On purpose?"
Brooklyn stared at her for a minute before shaking his head, making the slight breeze whips his dark hair. "No," he said, starring at the car. "It can't be. Who would want us to crash, Angel?" He asked, slightly agitated.
Angel sighed heavily before throwing herself down on the nearby steps to the hospital and put her head in her hands.
After a moment of silence, Brooklyn walked over and sat down next to her. "You know how lucky you were?" He said, staring in front of him. "Since you were the one who got hit by the tree in the car, you weren't supposed to come out with only a broken arm, but since you were so wasted, your body was so flexible." He looked over at her and she lifted up her head.
"But why would someone cut the brakes?" She asked, desperate and confused and stared back down at the ground.
There was an ear splitting silence before Angel took a deep breath. "I need to find out what happened that night," she whispered, staring at her hands.
Brooklyn turned his head towards her, squinting through the sun. "How?" He asked.
Angel shook her head and rested it on her fist. "Have you ever wondered why she drove away from the party?" She suddenly asked, biting her lip.
"She was drunk, she didn't know what she was doing," Brooklyn said quietly.
Angel shook her head once again and put her hands in her lap as a doctor pushed a patient in a wheelchair past the two of them. "She might've had something to drink, but she wouldn't be that stupid."
Brooklyn licked his lips and got up, brushing his hands off his pants and holding a hand out for Angel. "Come on, let's get you home," he said and Angel took his hand with her free arm. "And I already picked up your car."
The two of them opened the car doors and Angel smiled to herself as she jumped into it. "Thanks," she said, rubbing her cast again.
They drove a few minutes in silence, staring out their windows when Angel just couldn't take it any more. "How's Edwin?" She asked, leaning her head on her fist.
Brooklyn took a turn to the middle of the City and they were faced with traffic. "He's fine," he said and looked over at her before looking back at traffic. "He's got a new girlfriend now. Quite a smart one."
Angel smiled over at him. "What's he now, like seventeen?" She asked.
Brooklyn nodded his head. "That's right," he said, straight faced.
Angel's smile faded and she looked down at the ground, upset that he's not making much of an effort. "My brother's in Rome at the moment," she said, trying to full the silence.
Brooklyn nodded his head again. "Still in the traveling business?" He asked when the car started moving again.
Angel put one leg over the other. "That's right. Like always."
"So, where is your apartment?" Brooklyn asked as they drove past the science facility.
Angel pointed to the end of the road. "Right there and then left," she said. "I'm number thirteen." She looked over at the science facility and back at Brooklyn. "Are you still studying medical?" She asked.
They stopped in front of her apartment and he turned the car off. "Nope," he said, sighing. "I'm doing business now and am working for my dad from my house."
Brooklyn's dad owned the Sunray Hotel in Jacarandawood.
"Oh really?" Angel asked. They got out the car and made their way to her apartment, Brooklyn's hands in his pockets.
"Yup," he said and thy stopped by the doorstep and turned to each other. "Still at the Sunray Hotel."
Angel nodded her head and looked at the ground. "So," she said.
Brooklyn sighed and walked backwards. "I'll see you," he said.
Angel nodded and smiled back at him. "Yah," she said and unlocked the door. "I'll uh call you."
He waved and got in his car. Angel stepped into the apartment and rested against her door, lost in thought. She thought hard, racking her brain for the night of Dahlia's death. The night she fought not to think about for so long. Her mother suggested that she had post traumatic stress disorder or something in that line, which might've been the reason she blocked parts of the night out.
And suddenly a memory hit her like a frying pan to the face.
"Mom would kill us if she found out we drank," Angel said, laughing as her and Dahlia flopped down on her living room couch, a new low beat song blaring through the house. Angel stared over at Brooklyn laughing with his friends and looked back down at the ground, grinning to herself. "Oh my gosh." She looked to her left where the words were muttered from Dahlia's mouth. Dahlia stared in front of her at a short pretty girl, a slight panic look on her face. "It's just someone I used to know," she suddenly said and with much reluctance, she stood up. "I'll be right back," she said, not even looking at her. Angel was just about to go after her when Brooklyn appeared in front of her. "Having fun?" He asked, a broad grin on his face. She smiled at him and seemed to forget about Dahlia's distressed face. It was quite...worrying.
She snapped back to reality and wiped her hands over her face. She frowned at the memory and got to her feet and started for the tiny spiral staircase to her bedroom. She took a long shower, not really concentrating as she stared into space, wondering about the memory.
Who was that girl?
She quickly turned off the tap. She struggled when she washed her hair, since she only had one arm at the moment to do it, so she grabbed her towel and went to her room to get dressed. After getting ready for bed, she laid in the darkness, eyes wide open and thinking:
What does Dahlia want me to do?
After what must have been hours, she slowly drifted off to sleep.
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After two days of packing out her things and decorating her flat to make it feel more like her, Angel sat in her first class, since she came to the university to study law. She sat up straighter when she saw someone she used to know smile and lift up his hands.
"Angel!" Matt, one of her old friends, screamed and made his way towards her. Out of all the people Angel shut out, he still didn't get it and always tried to come talk to her. He was such a sweet guy, though, and he had a massive crush on Angel since forever.
Angel mustered up a smile and gave a small wave. He ignored it and bombarded her with a hug which Angel didn't want to return. She didn't let people usually hug her. "How are you!" He asked, holding his hands out.
Angel stared up at him and realized something about him that wasn't the same since she last saw him. He must've worked out, a lot, and his hair is up in a Nial Horan style and he has this I-know-you're-checking-me-out glint in his eye as well as a cocky smirk. He's hot.
Angel smiled and folded her arms. "I'm good," she said and gave a nervous laugh. "And you?" She added.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and grinned even broader. "Great!" He said. "And even better now that I got to see you. What happened to your arm?" He asked, pointing at the cast.
Angel smiled sheepishly and looked down, scratching her neck. Was he flirting? "Just a little accident," she answered. More like a near death experience.
"I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other, right?" He asked, a hopeful look on his face.
She nodded her head just as the professor entered the room. "Yah, I guess," she said and he winked at her and took the seat right next to hers. The whole class through, Angel tried her hardest to concentrate, but is was quite distracting, because Matt kept on sneaking glances at her. Angel didn't quite know how to feel about this. In no time, the class was over and Angel got up, packing away her notebook and pens. "See you, Matt," she said.
Matt smirked again and she saw his arm flex when he picked up his backpack. "Yeah, Angel. Definitely." He licked his lips before walking away.
Angel crossed her arms over her self, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but shook it off.
She walked down her street to her apartment block, humming to herself and thinking back.
"One day, the two of us will go to university," Dahlia said, beaming up at the sun shining on her porcelain skin and grinning over at Angel. Angel threw her arm around her best friend and pointed to the apartment block. "We could both room there one day!" The two giggled and continue their way to the mall where Dahlia's mom would come to pick them up to take them back to Jacarandawood.
Angel snapped back to reality and shook her head. She pressed the code for the gate and strode through, making her way to her flat. She stopped to get her keys out of her bag. She opened the door and walked inside. She placed her keys on the counter and her bag on a chair and gasped when she looked up.
The wall was covered in writing, the colour of blood red, reading:
I KILLED HER, AND IF YOU START LOOKING FOR ME, I'LL KILL YOU TOO.
Angel let out a whimper and stammered back. She stared at the red paint, drooping down the wall, as if it's a fresh wound bleeding. She covered her mouth with her hand and stared at the picture beneath it. She let out a cry of horror.
It was Dahlia in the scene of her car accident, only now Angel knew that it was no accident. She wanted to look away at Dahlia's head dripping blood and her lifeless eyes staring up at her, her body flayed over the steering wheel and a tree branch sticking threw the broken window, but she couldn't. She stood there with tears in her eyes and her heart beating at maximum speed, scared it would jump right out of her chest.
"No," she whispered and looked around frantically, but there was no trace of anyone braking in. No broken windows or doors. It would've been as if nobody was here, except for the horrific message written on the kitchen wall.
She didn't know what to do, so she reached for her phone in her bag, searching for the number she used to message a lot when she was younger. She dialed it and bit her lip, tears frantically streaming down her face and her chest heaving.
"Hello," the other line answered after a few rings.
"Brooklyn?" Angel choked, trying to hold herself together.
"Angel?" Brooklyn asked, slightly worried. "What happened?"
"C-c-can you p-please come o-over," she bawled, not being able to keep it in.
"I'll be right there," he said and they hung up. Angel felt a wave of relief, but it was immediately crashed when she looked at the fridge, another message:
Tell the police, and the same applies.
She let out another squeak and sunk down on the couch, feeling hopeless.
After ten minutes, the bell rang at the gate. Angel jumped up and pressed the opening button, not even checking if it is Brooklyn. She heard a car stopping outside and keys being rattled as someone made their way to the door. There was a knock.
Angel threw open the door, not caring that she looked like death itself.
Brooklyn stared at her with a worried expression, taking his sunglasses off. "What is it, Angel?" He asked.
She pulled him into the flat by his arm and pointed to the wall. His expression changed from bewildered to horrified as he read the words and stared at the picture. "Oh my gosh," he breathed and Angel stood staring as well. "Who would do this?" He asked, turning to Angel.
Angel shook her head, wiping tears. "I don't know," she breathed out. "Who would want to kill Dahlia?" She threw herself down on a counter chair and rested her head in her hands. Brooklyn sat next to her.
"We need to tell the police," he said firmly.
Angel whipped her head up and stared at him with a terrified expression. "Did you read what's on the fridge?" She squeaked frantically, pointing at it.
Brooklyn shook his head and stared at her. "They can't be serious," he said incredulously.
She wiped some more tears and sat up straighter. "We can't take any chances," she said loudly, throwing her hands up. "Someone killed Dahlia!" She said, wide eyed. "And now they want to kill me," she finished, choking out a whole new series of sobs.
Brooklyn hesitated before putting an arm around her, but as soon as he did, she threw hers around him and sobbed on his chest. She hasn't done this since the two of them found out Dahlia was dead at her party two years ago.
Brooklyn rubbed her back. "We'll catch this person," he said, his face turning hard. "I won't let them do the same to you as what they did to Dahlia."
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Hey readers! So I haven't written in a while, cause I was busy (by busy I mean watching movies and series since it's Holiday here!) so I'll try and write to whoever is reading.
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Comment, vote and read on! :)
Kisses
Cat😽