The words get stuck in my throat, sticky and gross and unnatural. Their shape is foreign and sharp; it hurts to say them. I’m not Tess’ biggest fan, not by a long shot, but she doesn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this.
I try to convince myself that she does, that it’s her fault I’m here. If Tess hadn’t found me, then he wouldn’t have found me.
My biological father.
The Seattle Slayer.
One in the same.
I spend the rest of the day lying on my side and staring at the wall, hoping that if the Slayer—oh, I’m sorry, I mean Daddy—shows up here, that I won’t see him coming. I put my hands over my ears, even though the house is dead silent.
Dead. fucking. silent.
With Parrish gone, it feels like what little heart was in this place has gone with him.
“Please be safe,” I whisper, and not for the first time. If I believed in any gods, I would probably pray right now. As things stand, all I can do is repeat that mantra and hope that it sticks. “Please be safe.”
After throwing the typewriter into the windshield of my new car, I hopped down on the broken glass and walked right past Tess and Paul. Neither of them followed me. Neither of them has spoken to me.
The worst part of it all though is not knowing what’s happening to Parrish right now. I’ve checked and rechecked my phone about a million times; there are no new messages, no matter how much I wish there were. I end up lying there for hours, living and reliving the trauma on Tess’ face as I used her typewriter to destroy my birthday gift.
Well, look at that, you wanted your dad in your life, right? You got him.
Shoving up from the bed, I stumble into the pristine marble bathroom and fall to my knees in front of the toilet. When I try to vomit, nothing comes up, and I’m left choking over the toilet bowl with nobody and nothing to help me. Nobody to help Parrish, more like.
“Goddamn it, Dakota.” Chasm appears as if summoned, sweeping my green and black hair back for me as he squats down at my side. “What the hell happened today? There’s glass all over the garage floor.” I grip the toilet bowl, turning my face so that I can look at his.
I wish he could hold me the way Parrish does. I just want someone to hold me right now.
“Can we go into Parrish’s room?” I ask and Chasm grits his teeth, giving a sharp nod. I stand up and rinse my mouth out before letting Chas pull me across the hall by the wrist. Together, we lie side by side on Parrish’s bed. Still not touching. Definitely not touching. “I threw Tess’ typewriter into the BMW’s windshield.”
“You what?” Chasm chokes out, turning to look at me. I’m staring up at the ceiling, wishing it would get dark faster so I could see the glow-in-the-dark stars. The whole room smells like Parrish, that stupid dewy freaking clover and citrus smell. It’s honestly making me sick right now. “Why? Did he tell you to do it?”
“Did I mention that Parrish’s kidnapper is the Seattle Slayer?” I reply, as if it’s no big deal, as if people find out their sperm donor’s a notorious serial killer all the time. Just another pothole in the bumpy road of my life.
Chasm sits up like he’s been electrocuted, turning an aghast expression my way.
“You’ve lost your mind, that’s what. If the dude that kidnapped Parrish is the Slayer then that would—”
“Make him my dad?” I query back, my voice much calmer than my actual emotions. “Apparently.”
Chasm just keeps staring at me like he can’t quite process the information. Eventually, he starts running his fingers through his hair and muttering in Korean again.
“That’s not possible.”
I sit up, too, crossing my legs and letting my hair tease my bare knees.
“Maybe not. Maybe the kidnapper isn’t the Slayer. Maybe he isn’t even my dad. But you know what I do know? He has Parrish tied to a fucking chair. Does it even really matter who the crazy fucker is?” I rub at my face. I’m beyond exhausted, but how could I possibly sleep through this? How?
“How does this guy even know about Tess’ typewriter? About the car?” Chasm murmurs, tucking his knees up close to his chest and putting his arms around them. The sleeves of his blazer climb up with the motion, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tattoos. I can barely stand to look at them. Parrish did that; that’s Parrish’s art. “Anything else I should know about? I told you to call me.” He looks supremely irritated, narrowing his amber eyes in a way that reminds me of Parrish. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”
“I know.” I cross my legs and rest my elbows on my knees, putting my chin in my hands. “It just felt so … personal.” Chasm doesn’t say anything, but he never takes his eyes off of me. I laugh, but the sound is far from pretty. In fact, it’s one of the ugliest sounds I’ve ever heard on my life. So bitter. So twisted. “He made me tell Tess such awful things … Whoever he is, this is personal. Extremely personal.”
“So you did what he asked. Now what?”
“He wants me to find Parrish,” I begin, thinking about the stag mask, wondering what it represents. A quick search online gave me a possible answer: fatherhood. Gross. “This is … it’s like a game to him.” I glance back at Chas to find him frowning, mulling over the situation and doing what I’ve been doing since this morning: looking for a solution to the puzzle. “As long as I do what he says, he’ll keep Parrish alive. But it’s up to me to figure out where he is.” I pause for a moment, picking at the black comforter beneath us with my fingernails. “He knows you know, by the way. The kidnapper, I mean. He says he doesn’t care who I pick as my ‘pawns’, as long as you don’t tell anyone that’ll try to intervene, like Tess or the cops or something.”
“He what?” Chasm repeats, blinking in surprise. “How could he possibly know that?”
I lift up the phone and give it a little shake before tossing it onto the bed in front of us.
“Take your best guess, but I would assume through the phone camera? How else?” I groan and rake my fingers through my hair. This is a lot to process; I’m fairly certain that I’m still in shock. My emotions are not that of a normal person right now. I feel detached, distant, like this is happening to someone who isn’t me. “Anything interesting happen at school?” I ask, trying to change the subject so I can have a moment to breathe.
“Everyone thinks Parrish took off to escape Tess. It’s like this is a big game to them.” He sighs heavily, but I can easily see that being the case. In a school full of rich brats with private jets at their disposal, this actually happens a lot. Two weeks ago, a senior girl took off mid-class and flew to Spain without telling her parents. “Danyella and Lumen were worried about you though.”
They’ve been texting me all day, but I haven’t had the strength to respond. I even have messages from Maxine as well as my grandparents, even with all the risk that entails. Everyone’s worried about me when they should be worried about Parrish instead.
“You look exhausted,” Chasm tells me, uncurling his arms from his legs. “You should try to get some sleep. I’ll watch the phone and wake you up if another message comes through.”