Page 143 of Deviant

“No, not him.” I shake my head.

“Why not?” he counters.

“Because…”

“Why? Because he has a girlfriend? Because he’s well spoken? Because he’s a nice-looking guy?” Elias stares at me like I should know better. “Ted Bundy was all those things, and he still found time to rape and kill women.”

“Fine. You’re right. But we can’t jump to conclusions without proof.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Elias cocks a brow.

“Maybe we ask someone who knows.” I chew on my bottom lip nervously.

“And you think one of us knows?” Andy asks.

“I think maybe your girlfriend might,” I tell him. “At least, I have this nagging feeling that she knows.”

“Harper would have told me something like that.”

“Not if she’s one of the victims.” I frown. “A thing like that is hard to admit, much less talk about. Much easier to pretend it never happened and move on.”

“You think you can get that info from your woman?” Elias asks Andy pointblank.

“I’ll try, but I still think you’re wrong,” Andy says adamantly. “Harper and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Hate to be the one to tell you this, kid, but you just started dating the girl three nights ago.”

“Doesn’t matter, Elias. We could have met three minutes ago, and I would still know her heart. The same way she knows mine,” Andy rebukes, insulted that his friend would throw such a thing at his face.

“You’re right, Andy. Time is inconsequential when it comes to love. I’m happy you two found each other,” I tell him, trying to take the sting out of Elias’s reminder.

“Yeah. It took us years, but we finally got here.” Andy’s cheeks tint crimson.

“Let’s throw the fireworks after we know who the rapist is, yeah? Ask your girl what she knows,” Elias says, only this time it doesn’t sound like a request, but more like an order.

“Okay, I’ll ask,” Andy concedes, his shoulders hunching in defeat.

“But not tonight.” I press my hand on Andy’s shoulder. “Tonight, make it memorable for other reasons. Okay?”

He smiles timidly. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Good night,” I say, pulling Elias with me down the corridor before he says anything else that may cost him his friend.

But we’ve barely managed to walk to our door when Andy whistles for us to turn around.

“Wait. Wait,” he whisper-yells. “Who do you think is the murderer and killer in the group? Shouldn’t we be on the lookout for those two, also?”

“Oh, that one’s easy.” Elias grins at him. “You’re looking at them.”

And with that, we turn around, slip into our bedroom, and close the door behind us.

“That wasn’t funny.” I try to hide my smile as Elias strolls into the room with a sly grin on his face.

“I thought it was.” He chuckles, amused, pulling his t-shirt over his head, followed by his pants.

“Thankfully, I doubt Andy believed you. But it was still a pretty risky joke to make.”

“I’m all about taking risks, Roe. Now, why don’t you take those clothes off and come to bed?” he instructs, plopping on the bed and slapping the space beside him.

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