Page 63 of Heartless

“You work at a diner and live in your mom’s house. You barely have friends, and you have no life plans. You don’t have a life.” Reagan barks out a laugh and edges toward me. “God, I’ve been trying for years to help you. But you’re so difficult, you know that? You don’t realize everything I do for you.”

“Everything you do for me?” I think back on her constant texts and invitations, about her need to know what I’m doing way too often and penchant for nosing into my business. “What the hell are you talking about? We’re friends, Reagan, but let’s not act like you’ve gone out of your way for me.”

“You really don’t think so?” She seems…surprised. Maybe even offended. Again she bites her lip, chewing on it until I’m sure it’s going to bleed. “I have, though. You hated Lacey. You told me once that she was the meanest, shittiest girl you’d ever babysat. She hit you that once, remember? And lied to her parents about you?”

My fingers suddenly feel numb and cold, as if the blood is receding from them even as I flex my hands at her words.

“Yeah, but I mean…So what? She was just a kid, Reagan.” My words come out softer than I intend, and suddenly I wish I’d thought to message Cass when I realized something was off.

So much for me being smart in bad situations.

“She upset you.” Again she takes a step closer to me, prompting me to take a step back. “She deserved it, so don’t pretend she didn’t. She came into the diner a few weeks ago while you were working. Did you know that?” She sounds excited suddenly, like she’s about to tell me some juicy gossip. “She andher shitty little friends. They sat in their booth and made fun of you. They talked about you, about what their parents had said about you. Even when you were nice to them and brought them free extras,they were being cruel, Winnie.” Her words become high and desperate by the end, and my heart is pounding too hard for me to reply.

“What about Edith? She was literally seventy, Reagan. She was nice to me, and left me big tips?—”

“She wouldn’t stop hugging you. You don’t like hugs from strangers. You barely even let me touch you. And she just wouldn’t stop! You’re not her grandkid, and yet she was always hugging you as if you wanted her to!”

“She was just kind!” I can’t help yelling, and Reagan steps back, obviously surprised. “She was kind to me, for fuck’s sake! So what if she hugged me? I work in the service industry, it happens!” I can feel my hands shaking at my sides as I look at her, incredulous and disbelieving. “What’s wrong with you?”

It’s the wrong question. Reagan jerks back, her expression shutting down. “You just don’t get it. But it’s fine, I sort of figured you wouldn’t.” She offers me a smile, like she’s forgiving me for something I’m certainly not apologizing for. “I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know you need a bit.”

“A bit?” God, I just can’t help myself. “I’d needa bitif I knew you were collecting my toenails or some shit. But you’re killing people to do me some…some sort of favor? Fuck, Reagan, absolutely not.” I force myself to walk forward, and she takes a few stumbling steps toward the door. “Move,” I snarl. “Or I’ll shove you right down the stairs with me.”

I probably won’t. Maybe. But it sounds good.

“I can’t.” She cringes and bites at her lip again. “I’m sorry, Winnie, I’m sorry. I know it’s not ideal, but I just don’t know what else to do. This was sort of spontaneous but it worked, so Ihave to go with it.” She’s rambling, explaining something to me that I have no context for.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m just trying to fix it, okay? I’m trying to fix everything, so you won’t have to worry about other people fucking up your life. You can trust me, Winnie, I swear. Let me help you. Let me in, please.” She steps forward, until there are only inches between us.

“I just have to get rid of him first.”

It takes me two seconds to realize what she means. Two seconds too long to stumble away from her when I see her hand isn’t empty when it comes around her hip. I open my mouth to shriek, kicking out at her and causing her to nearly fall to the floor.

It’s enough. It’sjustenough that I can slip past Reagan, and I lunge down the hallway towards the railing, reaching out as if it can be an anchor to pull me down the stairs and away from her.

But I didn’t get as much of a lead as I thought, and a hand grabs my hair and pulls a scream of pain from my mouth. Not when something small and cold is shoved into my lower back, and the zapping sound of electricity is followed by the worst pain I’ve ever felt.

And it’scertainlynot enough when I pitch forward, my limbs no longer working, and my head hits the railing so hard that my world goes completely black and blessedly painless.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

My head hurts.

My head really,reallyhurts. Before I even open my eyes I groan, shuddering at the lingering tingles in my body from what was definitely a fucking taser.

“You literally tased me,” I moan, opening my eyes to see the ceiling of the living room. Tilting my head down, I find Reagan sitting on the couch in front of me, but when I try to move, I find I can’t. “And you tied me to a chair.” Letting my head fall back I scoff. “You’re insane, Reagan.”

“Sorry about your head.” Reagan is apparently ignoring my insults, and when she shifts and stands up, I flinch away from her. “No, I-I’m not going to hurt you. Ineverwanted to hurt you.” She presses an ice pack against my temple, making me hiss and draw back in surprise.

“You have a funny way of showing it. I’m assuming it was you in the slaughterhouse with the knife, yeah?” I’ve used up all of my surprise for the night, so my words are dull and flat. Still I twist my wrists against the chair, realizing she’s zip-tied me.

Like apsycho.

Reagan’s huff of frustration is followed by her shoving the ice pack harder against my face, pulling a hiss of pain from my lips.“I wasn’t going to do anything else, I just wanted to scare you a bit. I was mad. Allhehad to do was waltz back into town and you were all over him. You couldn’t see anything else once he came back. Why?” She crowds closer to me, reaching out to grip my hair and yank my face to her, forcing me to meet her eyes.

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