Demon (29 page)

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Authors: Laura DeLuca

BOOK: Demon
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Scott didn’t move. He didn’t speak or even try to pinch her butt. He just laid there, still and silent. For a minute, Rebecca was brought back to the opening night of
Phantom
. For one horrid second, she saw Wendy’s body hanging from the rafters, so silent, except for the slight creak of the swinging rope. Then she realized she was being ridiculous. Scott was probably trying to get back at Justyn by playing a mean joke on his high-strung girlfriend.

“Get up, Scott. You’re not funny.”

Still no answer. Rebecca strained to listen for his breathing. But above them, Justyn and Chad belting out the
Pretty Ladies
refrain was drowning out all other sound.

“Scott, I’m serious. Move!”

She tried to shove him aside, and though he was heavy, she somehow managed to shift his weight. She heard his body hit the floor with a decided thump, but he didn’t complain. And he still didn’t move of his own accord. Rebecca’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness of their hiding place. She strained to see in the dim light that crept in through the cracks of the wooden prop. She could just barely make out Scott’s face. She could see he was covered in fake blood, but she saw something else—something much more horrible than stage makeup. Even in the dark, it was getting easier to see the white pupils of his unblinking eyes—eyes that were wide open and glazed. She also saw his mouth was hanging open with an outline of foaming saliva coating his phony goatee. What she
didn’t
see was him moving. Or breathing.

Above her, Justyn in his role of the demon barber cried out his rage as he finally killed the evil judge who ruined his life. Below him, Rebecca screamed out in almost perfect unison when realization dawned on her. Scott wasn’t playing games. Scott would never play games again.

Scott was dead.

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was like the opening night of
Phantom
all over again. Rebecca stood trembling on the sidelines, wrapped in the security of Justyn’s arms, while Scott’s body was carried away. She watched Livy sob and Chad’s shocked, emotionless face. Even Professor Carter showed the first signs of human emotion as he spoke to the officers and E.M.T.s on the scene. He had to clear his throat more than once as he explained the situation.

After some prompting, the director got Chad and a few of the other guys to admit to seeing Scott messing around with drugs before practice. It didn’t seem that any foul play was involved. Yet, later that night, Rebecca still found herself staring blankly at the television screen. She didn’t even see the sitcom that was playing. Instead, she saw the reflections of Wendy hanging from the rafters, of Jay and his cocky smile, and even the poor old janitor Mr. Russ. Now Scott’s blank stare was added to that endless parade of ghouls who haunted her dreams. It didn’t even matter that it wasn’t murder—that his death had been of his own making. His lifeless face would still haunt her for the rest of her life.

“Are you all right, Becca?”

Justyn came and sat beside her. He handed her a mug of tea, chamomile by the scent of it. She accepted the drink, but had no idea how to answer the question. She wasn’t catatonic yet, but that didn’t necessarily translate into being all right. Really, how many bodies could she stumble upon in one lifetime before she was completely certifiable? Still, she didn’t want to make Justyn worry, so she tried to take a tentative sip of the tea. The only problem was her hands trembled so badly all she managed to do was spill half the cup on her sweater. Justyn immediately jumped up and grabbed a towel.

“I’m such a klutz.”

She tried to laugh it off, but there was a definite underlying tremble in her voice. Justyn eyed her warily as he dabbed the tea away, as though he were worried she would burst into tears or have hysterics at any second. She was a little worried about the same thing.

“Did you get burned?” he whispered gently.

She shook her head. “No, I’m okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I guess … I mean.” Rebecca sighed and put her head in her hands. “I just can’t help thinking about what happened with Debbie….”

Justyn shook his head. “This isn’t the same, Becca. Scott died of a drug overdose.”

“I know that. But
I
found his body, just like Wendy … and then after that, you got shot … and I thought … I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

And there were the hysterics, coupled with barely comprehensible babbling. She should have realized she wouldn’t be able to hold it back forever. Luckily, Justyn was like her own all-natural Prozac. As soon as he pulled her close, she felt a little calmer, a little safer. She hadn’t even realized she’d started crying until he used the clean end of the towel to gently wipe away her tears.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Look at me, Becca.
Look
at me,” he insisted when she refused to meet his gaze. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re never going to lose me. You’re stuck with me. For better or worse.”

“It seems like there’s been a lot more ‘worse’ lately,” Rebecca said with a loud sigh.

“Well, that just means we have plenty ‘better’ to look forward to in the future.”

When he smiled at her like that, it was hard not to smile back. “You know,” she observed, “you have to be the most upbeat and optimistic Goth in the world.”

“It’s just another misguided stereotype that all Goths are depressed and angry at the world,” Justyn teased. “But seriously, it’s going to be okay, Becca. You’re safe now. I promise I won’t let anything hurt you. Not again.”

Rebecca nodded and leaned back into his arms. It made her feel more rational, if not completely better. It was just so hard to get the images out of her head. She didn’t particularly like Scott, but she had never wished anything so horrible on him. Even if he did bring it on himself, it was still a tragedy for such a young, talented person to be lost to the world forever. But as the hours passed, Justyn’s loving hands massaging her shoulders and the relaxing qualities of the herbal tea began to work their magic. Things started to seem a little less horrible. Scott’s death was still a tragedy, but one she could live with. As she pulled on her pajamas, she even dared to hope for a peaceful sleep free from nightmares.

“Hey, Becca.” Justyn peeked his head in from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth. “Have you seen my sweatpants? You know—the black ones?”

Rebecca actually giggled a little. “You do realize that
all
of your clothes are black, right?”

He crinkled his nose at her. “You know which ones I mean. The pair I always sleep in. I can’t find them anywhere.”

“I saw them in the hamper the other day,” Rebecca offered.

“No, I remember folding them at the laundry mat yesterday, and I swear I put them in the top drawer. It’s so strange how all my stuff just keeps disappearing.”

Rebecca smiled. “Darlene would say the faeries are playing tricks on you.”

“The faeries’ taste usually runs to glitter, not Goth.” He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess they’ll turn up eventually.”

Rebecca nodded through a yawn. It had been an exhausting day, and she couldn’t wait to crawl into bed and get it all over with. She snuggled close to Justyn and breathed in the familiar scent of his patchouli and sandalwood cologne. She felt safe and warm beside him, despite the deepening chill in the November air. She was just on the verge of falling asleep when the musical jingle of Justyn’s cell phone jolted her back to full awareness. It was hard to ignore the melodic notes of the
Phantom
theme song that was his ringtone. Justyn sat up too, but still looked a little groggy. He wiped the sleep from his eyes before squinting to look at the clock on the nightstand.

“Who’s calling me at one in the morning?” he grumbled.

He rose from the bed and pulled the phone from the discarded cargo pants he had tossed onto the floor. But he wasn’t quick enough. By the time he fished the cell from his pocket, it had already stopped ringing.

“Who was it?” Rebecca asked through a loud yawn.

Justyn shrugged and pressed a few buttons to try to find his list of missed calls. He was obviously having trouble in the dim light. When he finally found what he was looking for, his eyes narrowed.

“It was Livy.”

“What? Why would she be calling you so late?”

Rebecca really wanted to ask why Livy would be calling him at
all
or why she even had his number, but she restrained herself. She knew she had no reason to be jealous.

Justyn shook his head. “I have no idea. Should I call her ba—”

He didn’t get to finish the question before the phone started playing the pipe organ again. Justyn seemed unsure how to respond and looked to her for direction, probably worried he might wind up on the loveseat again if he made the wrong decision. Rebecca shrugged in resignation.

“Just answer it already. She’ll probably keep calling until you do.”

Justyn nodded and flipped open the phone. “Hello? Livy?”

Justyn was silent for a few long minutes as he listened. Rebecca could hear Livy’s frazzled voice shouting through the phone, but it wasn’t clear enough to make out what she was saying. Justyn’s elusive responses weren’t helping Rebecca to maintain her patience.

“Livy, calm down. What? Are you serious?”

Rebecca still had no idea what was going on, but Justyn began to get that look in his eyes again—the look that made him so convincing in the role of the villain. His whole face seemed to fall into shadows.

“What’s going on?” Rebecca mouthed.

Justyn held up his finger to gesture for her to wait. “Okay, Livy. Yeah, thanks for letting me know. Uh huh. Yeah, she’s here. I’ll tell her.” He sighed. “I’m sorry about this, Livy. I know he was your friend. Yeah. Okay. Bye.”

Justyn closed the phone and then just stood there for a moment, without speaking or moving—seemingly without breathing. It made Rebecca nervous. She felt her heart start to pound. She wanted to ask him what Livy had said, but suddenly she couldn’t find her voice. Finally, he moved toward the bed. He sat down beside her and grimaced as he pressed his fingers against his eyes. It made her realize that everything happening was putting just as much strain on him as it was on her—maybe more so, because he was trying so hard to be strong for both of them.

“What is it?” She inched a little closer to him and put a supportive hand on his knee.

“Livy just found out something about Scott,” Justyn started. “Something terrible.”

Rebecca’s pounding heart might have actually stopped beating altogether for one awful moment. In her mind, she heard Tom telling her that Jay’s car accident had been intentional and that same all-consuming panic she had felt back then started to take hold. She had no idea how she managed to squeeze any words past the lump that suddenly materialized in her throat.

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

Justyn sighed. “No, it wasn’t an accident.”

“Oh, God!” Rebecca felt like her air supply had just been cut off. “Not again.”

“It’s not what you’re thinking either,” Justyn assured her quickly when he saw the familiar panic. He took both her hands. “It
was
an overdose, Becca, but it was intentional. Scott committed suicide.”

“That … that’s horrible,” Rebecca whispered, shocked. “Why … why would he do that?”

It
was
horrible. Not quite as terrible as murder, but it still made her shudder. But it didn’t explain why Justyn was cajoling her or why he looked so nervous or so angry. The fact that he was trying so hard to comfort her was actually making her even more anxious. She wished he would just get to the point.

“There’s more,” Justyn continued. “Now try to stay calm, okay, Becca. I’m right here.”

“Justyn, just tell me already,” she pleaded. “Whatever it is, I promise I can handle it.”

“They found a note in Scott’s locker at the theater tonight,” Justyn explained. “It … it was a confession.”

“A … a confession about what?”

She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear the words out loud, just as a confirmation. Justyn squeezed her hands in reassurance before he replied, but it still didn’t stop Rebecca’s world from spinning when he finally verified what she had feared.

“Scott confessed to being the campus rapist.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The show must go on, or so, Professor Carter proclaimed. Rebecca and the rest of the cast had no choice but to agree if they expected to move on to the professional stage one day. Scott’s understudy took his place, and though his acting started out tentative, especially beside the grieving Chad, they somehow managed to make the performance believable. Still, the chorus was dwindling. The backup singers were just as critical as the main cast members, and they couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. They could only hope they made it through the ten scheduled shows with no further incidents.

For the next week, they practiced in a sort of calm melancholy. Chad didn’t start anymore trouble with Justyn and Rebecca. He didn’t fawn over Livy, and most importantly, there were no signs of drippy sinuses since Scott’s death. He stuck to himself, looking lost and alone, and Rebecca found herself feeling sorry for him. It reminded her of when Tom lost his faithful sidekick. Livy stayed quiet as well, but Rebecca had the strange feeling it was the calm before the storm. She kept her guard up whenever the Goth girl was around.

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