On Edge (16 page)

“Maybe she didn't change because of drugs. Maybe she changed because of a guy—or something.”

“A secret crush? Maybe. Then whoever she was with is probably the guy I'm looking for.”

“Well,” I stalled. I didn't know if I should tell Haze what I'd found out about his sister and my brother. But I wasn't sure which was worse, having Haze discover it and draw the wrong conclusions, or hearing it from me and listening to my explanation. “It wasn't the guy she was secretly dating.”

Haze practically lurched from the door as if it were boiling his palms. He stared me down, the anger of his youth I'd heard so much about, glinting in his eyes. “What did you find out?”

He shook with tension and I reached out to ease him only to feel him jerk away.

“What did you find out?” he repeated more forcefully.

I couldn't tell him.

Already he looked ready to kill someone, and I wanted to swallow my tongue or better yet, sleep for the next ten years so I wouldn't have to face the outcome of the storm I mistakenly created.

“Tell me! It was Surge, wasn't it?”

Oh, God. “No! Jesus, Brennen, stop.”

“You have to tell me…you have to—” His voice cut off around an audible swallow. I could imagine how long he'd waited for a break in his sister's case, and I was flashing him an answer without following through.

“Brennen, listen to me very carefully. You have to get the complete story before you go off on a vengeance spree. You're emotional right now,” I paused as he laughed bitterly. “Yes, I know how that sounds, but please, give me a chance.”

He did. I explained about my brother and his sister and I left nothing out, not even the intimacy Warp and Heather shared. I knew if he could relate to what my brother felt, he would know, as well as I, that Warp hadn't murdered his sister.

When the entire tale was told, I held my breath and waited for his response.

“You should've told me right away,” he whispered.

“I recently found out myself! I was investigating all day and night yesterday, trying to keep an open mind. Both you and my brother have the best motives for your sister's murder. You have an alibi. My brother doesn't.”

“And because of his bullshit story, you believe him? He's playing you, LL!”

Panic gagged me. I had to fight to keep myself from fainting. “W-what?”

“Your brother was with my sister right before she died, and he said nothing!”

“He would have been pinned for the murder and you know it. Oh, God, Brennen, please. You know I wouldn't have told you this if I thought for a second you would think my brother was guilty. As I have asked him to believe in your innocence, I'm begging you to believe in his! Trust me. Please.”

Haze backed away from me, his eyes narrowed, body shaking, and without another word, he ran.

Twenty

“Here, breathe into this.”

Liv held a paper lunch bag to my mouth, but I pushed it away. When I'd texted her that I was having a panic attack in the pool hallway, I didn't expect her to show up with an arsenal of stolen first aid items.

“I'm not hyperventilating, Liv. I'm freaking out.”

Surge rounded the corner, his look of panic melting away when he saw me alive.

“What'd he do? I'll kill him.”

I shook my head, looking at her. “You texted Surge?”

“I figured he'd want to know you were okay,” she said defensively. I nodded, annoyed that I didn't think of it first.

“So?” Surge held his arms straight out to his sides. “Tell me where he is.”

“He didn't do anything, Surge.” I closed my eyes and all I could see was the burning hate in Haze's eyes. “I'm screwed. I messed up bad. Oh God. Oh shit!” My chest was so tight with pressure…I banged my head back against the pool doors just to move the pain elsewhere so I could breathe again—so I could think.

Surge squatted down beside me. “I know it probably feels that way,” he started.

“I told Haze that Heather and Warp were dating, and that Warp was with her right before she died.”

He winced, not able to hide the reaction. “You're right. You're proper fucked. I'm going to text your bro, give him the duck warning.”

I nodded, leaning my head back to stare at the ceiling, tears streaming across my cheeks and into my ears. I refused to wipe them away. They deserved to stain my face for all time.

“I thought I could keep problems from happening if I told Brennen the truth about Heather and Warp's affair. Warp loved her. He really did, and if I could make Haze see that, the two of them could piece together what they know and find out who killed Heather. I feel it!”

Liv wadded up the paper bag with jerky motions. “I think Haze is right to be mad. Maybe your brother is lying to you. Either way, he should've come forward with his relationship with Heather and faced the music.”

I frowned. “Liv. I don't think you realize what that would've meant for Warp.”

“I don't care. You told me they were dating today, but you failed to mention he was with her the night she died. Maybe something he might have said about that night could've been helpful to the police.”

“I know she was your best friend, but you should try to understand how he was feeling.”

“And I think you should try and imagine your brother when he's angry. Maybe he didn't go to the police because he was guilty. Ever think of that, Ellie?”

I couldn't believe Liv was taking a side against Warp. She seemed to like him. I thought she might even date him eventually. She often came around the house unannounced and talked to him quite a bit. Sometimes I saw her feeble reasons for coming to see me as an excuse to chat up my brother, even though at school she pretended to hate him.

“You really think my brother is capable of murder?”

“No way,” Surge piped in, but Liv didn't answer right away.

“He's hidden himself from police,” she finally said. “And as you've often said, he hasn't been acting himself the last few years. Maybe he killed her accidentally and is living with the guilt, or maybe he acquired a taste for violence. All I'm saying is, watch your back.”

***

Haze wasn't in the closet waiting for me. He stood
me
up this time. We didn't actually say we'd meet up, but our time behind doors was a daily thing. His absence told me a lot about his frame of mind.

I searched the school for him but didn't find him. According to rumors, he stormed out the front door with the principal yelling after him shortly after he and I paraded down the hallway hand-in-hand.

On the heels of that rumor was the buzz about my brother scouring the halls in search of me. Yay.

I didn't know if Surge told my brother the full story about how I outted his relationship with Heather to Haze or if he'd just heard about the scene Haze made at my locker. Either way, I knew I didn't want to deal with his hysterical reprimand.

So I skipped again. Sneaking out the window the way Liv taught me wasn't an exit that made a statement, but it worked. Of course, she'd yell at me for abusing her technique when she found out I was cutting class without her.

I'd apologize for my friendship ineptitude later, but right then, I needed to at least try to find Haze before he confronted my brother. Warp was safe at school, but Haze was out on the streets somewhere, I just knew it. Whenever I become overwhelmed, I always turn to my passions, parkour and gymnastics—so I guessed he'd turned to his. I was sure I'd find him throwing up an awesome masterpiece of an avenging angel or some such.

I spent the next few hours freerunning around Three Rivers Academy territory, climbing buildings, jumping walls, and indulging in the occasional handspring, twist, or twirl all while keeping my eyes open for Haze.

***

In the middle of a Speed Vault, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Maybe Haze had finally responded to one of my texts! But in the alleys of the city, I knew my reception would be crap. The sun had gone down, but the neon lights of the fast food joint across the street illuminated the area just enough for me to see. I climbed up the rungs of the nearest fire escape ladder to the tops.

I unzipped my pocket and took out my cell, only to see it was yelling at me to plug it in right before the screen went blank. Well, crap. I'd seen that I had at least one message. Was it my brother looking for me? My boyfriend finally answering me? Was he my boyfriend after today?

While my brain worked, my body went through the motions heading toward my house—the long way of course. Circumstances kept me from enjoying my night out on the town, but I could at least release some stress on the road home.

I balanced on the lip of the rooftop as if it were a beam at the gym. I did my winning routine at Regionals until I ran out of space, and without pause, I jumped down to the neighboring roof, landing with a roll.

Ta
fucking
da!

No applause today.

Only birds flying into the last vestiges of light before the sun retired behind the growing storm clouds. I could smell the rain in the sky an instant before the first few droplets splattered my hoodie.

Time to stop screwing around and take the direct route in, I figured. I stuffed my hair into my hood and peered through the growing downpour over at the roof adjacent to mine.

I froze.

Someone stood there, with what might have been a can of paint in hand, arms down to their sides with their back to me. The rain poured down on them as well as on the portrait they'd painted—a portrait of my decayed face underneath a gnarled tree. Beneath it the bubbled words: Death Comes.

My heart choked me. My sudden wheezing stole my breath. I tried to scream at whoever it was to get them to turn around, but the rain fell so hard it obstructed my view and drowned my words.

Frustration eventually cinched my throat to near closing.

I took a step forward, and another. I wanted to get over there, but I resisted the temptation to make the jump from the roof I stood on to the one across from me. As eager as I was to find out who it was, I wasn't eager to end up like the curious cat.

I squinted, only able to make out the shape of a human and no more. Size, dimensions…all out of my visual ability to interpret.

“Who—who are you?” I choked out.

Whoever it was couldn't hear me.

“Please,” I sobbed, more to myself than to my would-be killer. “Why did you do this?”

The next few seconds passed as hours while I waited for rational ideas to form in my brain. I couldn't call the cops because my phone was dead. I couldn't confront the person, or I'd be dead.

The person snapped their head to the side, hearing a noise I couldn't, and darted away from the wall.

I could see the graffiti clearer now. My painted face dripped a little, the red simulating fresh blood ominously as it oozed over the gray flesh of death. The hypnotic swirl in the background looked like it was going to suck my corpse-like face into hell, rotted tree, rain cloud, flailing blue strand of hair and all. Death and decay. This wasn't harassment anymore. This was a threat. I felt death sitting on my shoulder, giggling in my ear.

And I got angry.

How dare this person ruin my whole life so casually, throwing mortality in my face? They wielded a power against me and I was allowing it to go on! The culprit was right there, and I stood motionless like a dumbass.

Well, not anymore.

I ran to the fire escape full steam, fueled by my rage. The bottom of my Tribal shoe gripped the topmost rung of the ladder and I pushed off, launching myself to the opposite emergency stairwell. In hindsight, I knew I was a fool to try the jump in wet conditions, but I successfully landed on the opposite balcony only one floor down from the top sans broken bones, though my face scraped against the bricks as I slid into it. The bizarre road rash would negate the “I entered the wrong building” alibi I was working on in the event of cop interference, but the fact I hadn't killed myself eased the loss.

Taking a deep breath, I began the stealthy climb up the ladder to the roof where I'd seen my harasser. Hopefully, I wouldn't run into them as soon as my head crested the rim and give them a pimp target.

To be safe, I stopped and listened. I could hear the rain dripping into recently created puddles but nothing more. The atmosphere turned eerie. Each step I took I imagined the entire apartment complex could hear it.

Though it took me a little while, I finally made it over the roof's rail and onto the tar.

The rain made it nearly impossible to see my surroundings, lending me a heaping helping of vulnerability. Awesome.

I crouched down and looked around.

There were two small shed-like structures on the top of the building, one housing the electrical outlets and stuff and the other the emergency exit for the stairs. Two very good places where someone could hide and jump out at me with weapons of various sorts.

Chicken pens, or coops or whatever the hell they were called, were sitting in the center of the rooftop. A sign of the times I supposed, where breeding chickens was cheaper than buying them from stores, but someone musta been damned broke, 'cause there were no chickens left.

The tarp lying over the tops of the cages would give me a little cover but not much, so I avoided the bird pens and made my way to the emergency stairs.

A pair of hands grabbed my arms and slung me into the shadow of the emergency exit opposite of where my newest graffiti picture was painted. I drew in a breath to scream but the wet body gnashed into me so hard I lost all diaphragm possibilities. The attacker's fingers dug into my throat, holding my voice box hostage while his other hand yanked my hoodie away from my face.

Not to be outdone, I grabbed my assailant's hood to get a good look at…

…my boyfriend.

“LL! Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” he whispered and removed his hand from my neck.

“Me?!” I choked, partly due to his nerve. “Haze…”

“Where did you come from?”

“I was on the roof searching for you when I saw—Haze! How could you? I believed you when you said it wasn't you!”

“We gotta get out of here.”

He clasped my hand and pulled me down to a crouch. We took a few steps toward the edge before I yanked back to reality and out of his grip. “I'm not going anywhere with you until you explain to me why you are painting my zombified face on the side of this exit shed!”

“I wasn't!” He turned to face me, looking over my shoulder. “Manu, please. Someone is up here with some hardware neither one of us has an answer to. Okay? We'll talk as soon as we're down.”

“H-hardware? Like a gun?” I hoped I was whispering.

“Shit. Run!”

I looked behind me but I didn't see anything. There was a loud crack of thunder, and I couldn't hear much of anything, let alone Haze's next command. He regained possession of my hand and ran me toward the roof's edge.

I didn't know if it was my adrenaline having a rock'n'roll concert in my ears, or the thunder, but I thought I heard…gunshots. In front of me, I could see the rim coming closer. “Don't stop,” Haze yelled, and I found myself briefly wondering if he was ready for this level. We'd never trained building jumps.

“Focus on the jump,” I instructed a second before I flattened out my body and made the distance. I landed correctly, but Haze's feet slid on a wet patch and he hit hard.

I helped him to his feet but he pushed me ahead. “Next…roof,” he wheezed.

I sized the building up…and up. It was a good three stories higher than the building we were on which meant we'd have to perform a successful Cat Leap. Not good.

In theory I was good at going from the ground to a wall top, but this was different. This was from the roof to a window ledge, fingers making the difference between success and death, and that was only if I was lucky enough to make a solid grab. If I didn't, there was only the option of death.

“Haze. With the rain…” I slowed but he urged me ahead of him again.

“Focus, Manu. I'm right behind you.”

I nodded but I doubted he saw it in the downpour. I heard him grunt in pain and I figured he injured himself with the first leap. We neared the next building and I realized we faced the fire-escape side. Less of a jump than I thought, but the landing might be a little rougher.

We didn't need to run balls-out, though. I doubted the person chasing us would've made the jump behind us, and they certainly couldn't see us by now.

We could do a simple leap that would carry us to the other building. I paused to see if he was feeling okay to—

I felt his hands at my back shove me forward. I let out a bizarre squeak—a mixture of shock and terror—and flew forward over the edge.