Page 175 of The Casualty of Us
A little giggle bursts past my lips when his eyes narrow dangerously, and I dash out the door, something about him always able to pull me just over that line of discretion.
I manageto make it to the PO box on the second day back since Bobby is just as prone to needing to pee as anyone else. Finding a letter waiting for me there in the same style as before. The only difference being the message waiting for me on it.
The rules are simple when it’s just us.
For every question you ask, I’ll answer honestly,
But it will be up to you to figure it out.
Enticing enough for you, sweetheart?
And my heart is racing by the time I make it to the end of the message, everything about it telling me this was the right call because he’s already showing me more syntax. Clearly trying to set himself above me and prove his superiority in some way as well. Not to mention the possibility of a blanket pass to information. The last bit throws me, but still…it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up, despite the anxiety I have over how a certain someone is going to react.
So I drop my reply in the mail the next day, dragging Ollie out for Christmas shopping and tossing it in the first drop box we come across.
Game on.
Now tell me. Who am I talking to?
Chapter Forty
OPHELIA - DECEMBER 2013
No.That’s not right.
I scratch the word off my list from my spot on the floor, looking back at my computer screen and seeing nothing but nonsense like all the rest so far. Thankfully, I’m almost done with the Vigenère portion of the day and very ready to move onto the Caesar. The slight change after two hours of banging my head against the wall trying to figure out what the psychopath could have possibly decided to make the keyword is much needed. Especially considering that I don’t even know if he did use a Vigenère. The problem is there’s no obvious answer jumping out to me when it comes to the Caesar either.
All possible numbers of significance shared between us that I would know are already tried and discarded on the floor around me. The past couple of days since Ollie went with my parents to New York on a quick business trip and I pleaded being sick have been spent on little else but trying to figure out the response I managed to snag the day before that. Another bruise gained on my back from the fall out the window this time while Mia chatted away with Zoey.
I’ve been racking my brain ever since to figure out what he could have used to code the message because apparently I already have everything I need.
The dull and constant pound in my head at this point isn’t helping any, though.
I squint down at my computer where it’s resting in my lap, typing quickly and making my last attempt at the Vigenère. Really not thinking the guy chose the Latin word for petunias as the key, but trying it out anyway. I quickly see nothing but more nonsense pop up across the screen and shove the computer from my lap with a groan. Immediately trying to for a deep breath to center myself as my eyes drift around the little collections of notes that have piled up throughout the past couple of days.
An occasional water bottle breaking things up and the lack of food remnants suddenly making my headache make a whole lot of sense. Bodyguards long forgotten in the apartment above the garage with my bookshelf fully turned around until tomorrow afternoon when everyone comes back and my trip to wonderland ends as Christmas Eve begins.
At least somewhat, unless I get this figured out before then.
I blink a few times to fight the dryness in my eyes and look down at the source of my frustration where it sits laid out beside me. Cardstock the same as all the others, but the prettily drawn blue pansies at the bottom are definitely a new addition. Along with the nonsensical text in the middle and directions above that.
Don’t worry, sweetheart, I play fair.
You already have everything you need.
Oa pcog ku Cfco.
Unease fills me at the words I can actually read just like it has every other time and a burn starts up in my eyes again the longer I stare at it, but the text bothers me enough to hold me captive. The familiar syntax that will allow him to slip more easily also making dread bloom around that knot in my chest because—
It’s how you talk to a girlfriend.
To someone who’s chosen you.
Replace sweetheart with baby, and it’s almost how Hayes talks to me.
I look to where my phone sits beside the note at the thought, and its prolonged silence has me reaching out to click the side and finding that it’s already nine p.m. The late time has my anxiety spiking with the realization that I haven’t heard from him since this morning, which is most definitely against the trend we’ve fallen into of checking in since going home for break. Him usually reaching out to say good morning and me finishing off the day with a good night. I’ve even been making sure to keep up with it these past couple of days while working on the note. Not wanting to tell him before I have it figured out or add to his stress while he’s serving out his time at his mom’s house. Plus I’m about to have to crush that dream for him, and my deadline is almost here anyway.
I pick the phone up and swipe up, quickly navigating to our thread to type out a quick check-in.
