Of the Trees(44)

“To my mom?”

“Yeah, her. And, well, to everyone. If it really is Jess, which we don’t know that it is, what are you gonna tell them?” Laney clarified, shifting a bit on her feet.

Her perfectly normal, not cut up feet.

“I’m going to tell them that I was with Jess, that I tried to get her to leave, that she stayed with that carnie Jude and that he most likely killed her!” Cassie’s voice rose in pitch and intensity as she spoke, the words coming faster and harder. Laney gritted her teeth and stared her down.

“You don’t know he did anything. You don’t know it was Jude.”

Cassie’s jaw dropped as she stared at her friend. “He’s one of them, isn’t he?”

Laney stared at her, her features rearranging to a dangerous look. “Who?”

“Corey,” Cassie answered in a whisper. “It’s the same one, the one from the carnival. He doesn’t look the same, but he is.”

Cassie hadn’t been sure before but as the words exited her mouth, she knew they were the truth. A dull, rising horror sparked at the acknowledgment. A confirmation deep in her gut whispered and taunted.

Yes, yes you’re right. He’s one of them.

“Are you going to tell them Corey was there?” Laney asked. Her voice had a dangerous edge to it. Something broke in Cassie.

“Yes! Dammit Laney, what is the matter with you?” Cassie yelled. “Jess is dead! And we were there. We saw her. I knew, knew, it was wrong to leave her, but I freaked out and left, and now she’s dead.”

“It’s not your fault,” Laney said softly.

“No, it’s not,” Cassie breathed, her hand tightening in the front door knob. “It’s his, and I’m going to tell anyone who will listen.”

It was cold outside, the morning light thin and weak. It made the world look muted, like a fine mist was covering everything. The bright blue truck parked on the curb of her house drew her attention. Her stomach clenched when she noticed the boy walking from her house toward the truck. She went to call out for him, and then he picked his head up, turned, locked eyes with her, stiffened and turned back to the truck.

“Ryan!” Cassie called out, watching as his shoulders pulled tight. He walked away from her, making a path toward the beat up Dodge making clouds with the exhaust. He turned when she called out again.

“I just wanted to return your phone,” Ryan said, shifting on his feet, refusing to meet her eye. A crushing defeat welled in her chest. Jessica was dead, she was almost completely positive of that fact. Then something else, something less terrible, less earth-shattering, but still awful flashed in her mind.

He knew.

She looked from Ryan to the cab of the truck where Jon was hunched over the front wheel. Jon shrugged in guilty acknowledgment. He told Ryan about last night. Jon saw, he must have. He watched as Blue Eyes ran his hands all over Cassie. She felt dirty and exposed, the urge to cry warring with the rearing desire for a shower.

“Wait, Ryan!” she called out, adding “please!” when he kept walking. She ran the short space of her yard to him, leaving Laney silent on her front walkway. She reached Ryan and tugged on his shirt sleeve to get him to look at her.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she started, but he interrupted.

“It doesn’t matter. I just thought … ” He shook his head.

“We never said,” Cassie said, knowing, honestly, that wasn’t the point. She tried to look him in the eye, but he turned, avoiding her. “I mean, we didn’t ever talk—”

“Were you not here?” he snapped, finally turning to glare at her. She stepped back at the intensity of his look. “Just the other morning? Were you not here, too? Did we not kiss? Because I thought that meant something!”

“It did!” Cassie insisted, staring up at him. “But you never—I can’t read minds, Ryan!”

“It’s fine,” he said, turning from her again. “You’re not interested, I get it.”

“No, you don’t get it!” Cassie said, pulling on his arm once more and spinning him back to her. “I am. I have been! Last night was … It was dumb, a mistake. I was drinking and it just … It just happened!”

Ryan snorted, looking to the ground and hanging his head. “That’s not what it looked like.”

“Looked like?” Cassie asked, her brow wrinkling in a puzzled frown. Then a dawning horror washed over her features, and she stepped away from Ryan. “You took pictures?” she roared, glaring at Jon. Jon shrugged again, swallowing visibly.

“He knew I would have never believed it otherwise,” Ryan said.

“You absolute ass, Jon!” Cassie screamed, angry tears welling as the unwanted memory of warm hands washed over her. She hugged herself tightly, never feeling more exposed and vulnerable.

“I have to go,” Ryan said, backing away from her. “See you later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cassie bit out, swiping at the moisture forming in her eyes. “Later.”

She was livid, angry at Jon, at herself, at Ryan for never, not once, putting it into words that he wanted to be the one pinning her to trees. Not even now, not even the acknowledgment of jealousy, just the cold accusation that she should have known.

And she did. She did know. That’s why she stopped, why it felt so wrong, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t say those things to him now. Now, it was all screwed up.