You Owe Me a Murder(68)

“Seriously, I could just pop down for a cup of tea . . .” the man offered.

“You just happen to be dumping me while I’m in the hospital. You expect me to believe that’s just a coincidence?”

“I could make a couple calls or something.” The guy had his feet on the floor at this point. His pajama pants were a washed-out gray and the elastic at the waist was loose, the pants threatening to fall down. I wished he would just go instead of waiting for permission. Alex was right. The allergic reaction was why I was breaking up with him, but not because it had grossed me out. I had to hurt him now to keep him safe, even if every word out of his mouth was a punch to my heart.

“Your allergic reaction has nothing to do with it,” I said. “The whole reason I wanted to talk to you yesterday was about this.”

“So, your plan was to break up over pad thai so that I wouldn’t make a scene? You were managing me.” He shook his head. “That’s just great. You couldn’t say anything when I stayed the night at your place?”

I winced. The man in the next bed was no longer asking to leave. Now he looked ready to munch on some popcorn and watch the show.

“It’s not that I don’t care about you, but—?”

“You know, please spare me the ‘I care about you, but’ speech. If you don’t want to be with me, then that’s fine, just go.”

“Alex—?” I touched his elbow, but he yanked his arm back, making the IV pole shake.

“You should go. You said what you came to say. Thanks for the good times. It’s been fun. We’ll always have London, blah blah blah.”

“I’m really sorry.” I stood, my legs shaking.

“Just leave.”

“I wish things were different,” I said.

“Just get the hell out!” Alex yelled, and I bolted from the room, his hurt and anger chasing me into the hall. I bumped into a squat nurse right outside the door.

“Is everything all right?” She peered into Alex’s room.

“Uh-huh.” I dodged past her and down the hall. I stumbled down the stairs and spilled out onto the first floor. Every direction I turned, there were more people. Then I saw the sign for the nondenominational chapel. I pushed open the door, praying for quiet.

The room was blissfully empty. I shut the door behind me and slid to the floor onto the industrial carpet. It was a good thing I was already in a hospital, because my heart was failing. I could feel it shredding inside my chest, tearing free. I squeezed my temples, trying to hold in a scream.

I hated that I’d hurt Alex. I could see in his eyes that he didn’t understand. He thought it was him, that I found his love for comic books too geeky, or his encyclopedic knowledge of video-game strategy too useless, or that I looked down on the fact that he’d actually taught himself Elvish by reading The Lord of the Rings. But I loved all those things. I loved how different he was from everyone else and how he saw adventure and magic in everything. I loved how there was a tiny chip in his front tooth and how his body was always so warm, as if he were his own nuclear device sending out heat waves.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, trying to pull myself together. My breath came in shuddering gasps and I focused on taking slow, deep inhales through my nose and then exhaling through my mouth. I couldn’t afford to lose my senses now. I had no doubt Nicki was serious. If I didn’t kill her mom, she would hunt me down. Worse than that, she would hunt down the people who mattered to me.

Going to the police was no longer an option. They weren’t going to believe me. I’d cried wolf too often. Not to mention I could just imagine how Nicki would perform under questioning. Smooth. Like a duck, perfectly calm on the surface but paddling like mad underneath the water. She’d bury me and get away. And then who knew what she would do in revenge. I’d risk myself, but not everyone else. I had to handle this on my own.

Nicki said that she’d picked me because she thought I was smart and analytical. That I could divorce myself from emotion and do what needed to be done. Clinical. If I was going to survive this, I needed to be that person. I had to focus on what I was going to do. What would give me the outcome I wanted. The tears on my face started to dry and I could see options in my mind as if I were writing them down on the whiteboard in Mr. Donald’s class. The squeak of the dry-erase marker as I flew over the calculations. My breathing evened out.

I needed to work the freaking problem, and that wasn’t how to kill Nicki’s mom. My problem was Nicki.





Thirty-One


August 29


2 Days Remaining


Tasha was looking for me. She’d sent multiple text messages commanding me to call her, and when I slunk into my room at Metford, there was a note from her waiting under my door. I understood why she was worried. She’d already had one kid die on her watch and another end up in the hospital. The last thing she needed was for me to go missing. I’d taken off without telling her or anyone where I was going, and after seeing Alex, I’d walked the city for hours, coming up with a plan.

I checked the clock. If Tasha was sticking with our schedule, she would be with our group touring the Parliament buildings. That would give me the time I needed, even if they didn’t wind up going to the restaurant scheduled for afterward. I fired off a text to her saying that I just needed some time by myself given everything that had happened, but that I was okay. I hoped that would pacify her for the time being.