Page 114 of One Killer Night
I scowl, mid-chew, then grab the top of his laptop and spin the screen around toward me.
“Chase, this is Safari on private browsing mode.”
He scoffs. “Regardless, I found something written about that camp from like the 2000s. At some college newspaper. They did a whole piece called ‘The Hidden Secrets of Camp Weonoke.’ It was a solid piece of exposé journalism.”
I swallow my food, gathering more on my fork. “How does that help us find him?”
“It mentioned a relative ... a grandmother. Maybe we could find her and see if she’s heard from him or has any info.”
I never knew my grandmother. The thought of relatives is so foreign. I wasn’t just an only child. I was alone. This unwanted enigma who people hated and looked at like one day I’d be another headline.
I look down again reading the article before I shake my head. “This says she was in her eighties. She’s gone by now, dude.”
It’s weird, I’m not relieved or sad. Just right where I left off.
“Shit,” he says, stealing back his laptop, spinning it back toward him, and looks over it again before snapping it closed. “Everything’s a dead end. How the fuck are we going to find this guy?”
It was clear the other night that I wasn’t getting rid of him, so I agreed to let him help me, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try and change his mind every day until ... The thought makes my stomach turn.
“Not we . . . me.”
I put my fork down, having already cleared my plate. Not because I’m hungry but because my inclination is to not eat, like some lovesick Romeo who wants to waste away.
He shakes his head and crosses his arms. “Are we doing this again? I thought we cleared this up the other night. How many times do I have to tell you that I’m just a boy, standing in front of another boy, asking him to let me commit possible vigilante murder with him?”
Both my hands point at the counter as my frustration rises. “Chase. This is serious ... My father will eventually find me again, and he’s fucking crazy. He’ll gut you to get to me. You can’t be the Julia to my Hugh.”
He holds up a hand. “I know this is serious. And I know the risks. And I’m willing to take them.” Then he grins. “I’d also just like to add that I love that I’m the better-looking one in this scenario ... Just as an aside. Continue.”
I shrug, following him off track. “I mean, she is the one who delivered the line, so it’s kind of by default.”
He nods. “Delivered? What an impactful moment ... so raw and vulnerable. Visually beautiful. I may have gotten teary eyed.”
My hands wipe down my face as I’m jolted back to reality. “Jesus Christ. Can you focus? Can I?” I pivot before turning back again, having too much energy in my body. “This is serious shit about to go down. And I would rather do it alone.”
Chase’s palms press to the counter as he leans forward, his eyes locked to mine.
“That’s not how ‘would you rather’ works. Here’s one: Would you rather find out your best friend died because you left him alone and he’s incapable of butting out, or almost die fighting together?”
I blink back, a deadpan expression on my face. “Are you fucking kidding? Why won’t you listen to reason?”
Chase grins back at me, knowing he’s game, set, matched me. “Because what you want is unreasonable.”
Bullshit. He knows everything. I listed out the risks and the consequences of knowing me. All the tiny little nothings over the last year that weren’t nothing—his motorcycle accident, the friend of Evie’s who was attacked out front of Goldie’s a year ago, even the dude she told me about months after we’d moved who’d scared the shit out of her. None of that was coincidence.
My father was getting closer and closer. My mind drifts to the night I kissed her in the alley, remembering the figure across the street.
He’s been watching me, waiting for his moment. I run a hand through my hair. “I keep saying this, but you aren’t hearing me. Billy’s here to finish the job.”
Chase crosses his arms, undeterred. I groan, throwing my hands up.
“This fucking stubborn loyalty to me is annoying. Quit.”
“Nah, and leave my brother out here with only his good looks and no common sense? That’s the point of the smart, funny sidekick—I save your ass. You can’t be a hero without me.”
A hero? I’m as much of a villain. Nobody would be in this mess if it wasn’t for me. But I don’t say any of that, just stare back at him as he keeps going.
“Now back to business. I was thinking about this last night. I think we should go—”
