CHAPTER 75
1042 Words
Calla frowned down at the keys in her hand.
What the hell sort of games are you playing, Coop?
Angry now, she pulled out her phone, her eyes narrowing at the
string of texts Cooper had left her and which she had ignored.
Meet you at my place in 20?
Calla.
Bitch hello.
Cory is now stalking me because of you so thanks can you hurry
up and get here?
Seriously the guy isn't leaving until he sees you.
Answer him so he leaves me alone.
The texts ended there.
"I leave for a couple hours and you go AWOL," she grumbled,
clenching the keys hard enough to hurt, the jagged edges digging
into her palm.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A gust of cold air
blew loose curls across her face and she batted them away,
impatient. The keys jingled noisily in her hand.
She paused, staring down at the cold metal. Something in her gut
twisted. Deep down, she felt the beast stretch.
Cooper...
The guy couldn't so much as leave a scrap of paper in the wrong
pocket of his backpack without risking a compulsive tick. Her eyes
trailed to the aged hunk of metal next to her, the car sitting cold
and still. Experimentally, she walked around to the hood of the car
and trailed her fingers over the metal.
Not cold yet . The engine was still warm.
"You were in such a rush to see me," she mused, walking a slow
circle around the car. "So where are you?
Calla froze, her mind going blank for a moment, like a curtain
dropping mid-scene. And then she blinked, and she saw them:
those beautiful blue eyes. That coy, dimpled smirk.
The twisting in her gut intensified as a dark certainty gripped her.
She swore, her mouth going dry. Clenching the keys in her fist,
she scrolled through her contacts and found Cooper's name.
Breathing deeply now, she hit the call button and waited, her
nostrils flaring. Like a shark catching a faint hint of blood in the
water.
Does he still have his phone? Or has it been destro—
Cory answered on the second ring. "Calla! Finally."
Her eyes narrowed. "Where's Cooper?"
Right to the point. Why mince words?
"He's with me," Cory answered, upbeat. "He's, ah...a little tied up.
Here. I'll give him the phone."
A moment later she heard a different voice. High-pitched and
panicked. "He's going to kill me, Calla. Please , he's going to—"
"Shush, shush." Cory took the phone back, sighing into the
microphone. "He's very dramatic. I thought he'd be...I dunno. More
interesting? I mean, you seem to like him. You've kept him alive
this long, so I figured..."
Her heart skipped a beat. In her
mind's eye, she saw the flash of a silver knife, black hair tangled
in her hands.
She blinked, and the image—the memory?—was gone.
"Where are you?" she asked flatly.
"Hmm? Oh!" Cory seemed delighted by her question. He laughed.
"Right. Okay, so this totally wasn't supposed to go down like
this...but you kinda screwed up my plan. Which is fine! More
spontaneous."
He admitted this with a grumble. She imagined him with a slight
pout, his beautiful eyes troubled. She wanted to pop those eyes out
with a spoon. Or maybe she'd dig them out with her fingers.
"Where," she repeated. "Are. You."
"You're not usually this impatient," he mumbled, lost in thought.
"But this is the real you. Not the other you." A wistful sigh. "There's
so much I want to know..."
You haven't seen the real me, Cory Michaels. And after today, you're
going to wish you never had.
"Anyway," he continued, positive again. "I had to make some
adjustments. But I think it works...we can finish this together now."
She flashed back to their date night at the movies, his hands soft
and warm and his eyes filled with hopeful desperation. You'll be
able to put all this behind you, he'd said, consoling her in the
darkness.
"Cory—" she started, her voice deadly quiet.
"Come to the place where it all started," he said simply, his voice
less warm now. In the background, she heard Cooper shout, a
frantic attempt to get someone—anyone—to help him. "I think it
goes without saying you shouldn't bring my dad or the rest of the
welcome wagon with you."
She ground her teeth together. "And where, exactly, is—"
Cooper screamed somewhere in the background—loud enough to
cut her off mid-question. Her grip on the keys tightened, and she
felt a trickle of water run down her pinky finger.
Not water. Blood.
"I would hurry if I were you," Cory instructed, his voice low and
cold. The perfect match to her own.
Before she could gather her thoughts, he hung up the phone,
cutting off Cooper's screams so abruptly she went still for a
moment. For the first time in a long time, she had absolutely no
idea what the hell she was supposed to do.
And then the rage came.
Letting out a wild scream, Calla threw her phone. The screen
shattered on impact. She stared down at it, her chest heaving with
each shuddering breath. Her throat tightened as the fury clawed its
way through her body, consuming every molecule.
The beast inside her belly shuddered in delight. And then her vision began to go dark.
Her peripheral went first, but soon her entire focus had clouded.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes with her free hand, cursing.
No.
The ground beneath her pulsed and went black.
She blinked, and suddenly she could see—only to find she wasn't
in the cold parking lot anymore. She was somewhere else entirely.
A different place. A familiar place.
She stood inside a house, the press of warm bodies surrounding
her on every side. Loud music rattled her teeth, and the sharp bite
of vodka filled the air. She turned her head from side to side,
disgruntled. Black and orange streamers hung from the ceiling.
Multicolored lights bounced off the walls, the bodies, the floor.
And from somewhere nearby, she could hear obnoxious, high-
pitched laughter.
- Writer
