Page 22 of Caution Tape

Someone to play with.

I press against her and bring my lip to her ear. She’s trembling with fury, and I almost laugh, but I manage to bring malice into my voice.

“Did you rehearse this? Did you say your little lines to your mirror before confronting the big bad man?” I lean down and grab the knife off the floor. It’s a tiny little hunting knife with a porcelain doe carved into the handle. “Was your plan to threaten me with your adorable little knife and get me toconfess?”

“Fuck. You,” she hisses. “He hasn’t answered his phone. Hasn’t been at school, and he’s not at his apartment. You killed him. I know you did.”

I drop the knife over her shoulder, at her feet. I take the jawbone out of my pocket. I use it to brush the hair away from her cheek, and then caress her skin with it. Even though she doesn’t get a good look at it, it gives me pleasure.

“You have no proof,” I murmur in her ear. “Natalie will say I was with her all night. The houseguests will confirm it. The police won’t be able to get a warrant.”

“Fuck you!”

I grip her even tighter as she struggles to break free. Feeling the way she bucks against me leaves me almost breathless and I lean closer, my lips beside her ear. “And I’ll be free to do whatever I want.”

She stumbles as I finally release my hold on her, moving to grab my discarded bag and hoist it over my shoulder.

Cora turns around and glares at me. “I’m going to kill you,” she bites out.

Twirling the jawbone fragment in my hand, I grin at her. “So, I guess I’ll be seeing you around then, huh?”

Chapter Ten

Cora

Ispend the next few days thinking about my encounter in the staircase with Target Guy. No matter what I do, I’m unable to get him out of my head. All my calls to Jerri go straight to voicemail. None of my texts have been delivered. To the world, he just vanished, and nobody even seems to have noticed his disappearance.

But I know he hasn’t just run off. Ever since I’ve met him, he’s always been dedicated to school. He would never leave without telling anyone. Especially me.

Jerri is dead. I just know it, and my encounter with Target Guy proves me right.

“I hate him,” I tell my therapist, staring at the wall with vacant eyes.

“What is it that you dislike about this person?”

“Everything,” I spit out, tapping my knee with my fingertips. “He thinks he can just do anything he wants without any consequences.”

“Is that so?” he questions. “Did he tell you this?”

“I’m going to stop him.”

He clears his throat and shifts in his chair. “How do you plan on stopping him?”

By slitting his throat—

“Cora?”

“I—I’m not sure,” I stammer, sharply exhaling as I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers, trying to decipher my racing thoughts. “Ever since the day I met him, he’s been in my head constantly. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to make him go away—“

“That doesn’t sound like dislike,” he points out.

“He took my friend away from me,” I rush out, shooting him a blank stare. “My only friend. He stole him from me. He cannot get away with this.”

“When did this incident occur?”

I frown, avoiding his gaze. “Halloween night.”

“And how did he ‘take your friend away from you’?” he asks, clasping his hands together over his knee.

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