These Deadly Games(94)



“That doesn’t make it any better!”

I winced, pausing on the knot. She already thought I was a murderer. This looked bad. Really bad.

“Whose blood is it?” she persisted.

“Dylan’s.”

“What?”

“Please, listen—”

“What did you do to Dylan?”

“Zoey, listen to me! Dylan’s actually Andrew Cullen. He’s the one who kidnapped my sister. He hacked my phone, installed that app I told you about—”

“Wait … Andrew Cullen? Brady’s brother?”

“Exactly. I found his hideout just now … He, uh … I basically had to fight him off.”

Zoey watched me for a long moment, then burst out in high-pitched, almost maniacal laughter. “Oh my God, you’ve totally lost it.”

I wanted to scream in frustration. But also, I got it. Abject denial had been my first reaction, too. “It’s true, Zoey. He blamed us for Brady’s death. I mean, think about it … He has a legit reason to want revenge. This all had nothing to do with MortalDusk—”

“But I remember Andrew. There’s no way in hell they’re the same person.”

“Do you remember him that well, though? It’s not like we ran into him often.”

“I guess … but Dylan would never do that. Never!”

“I’m sorry.” I went to work on the knot again. “I know you like him.”

“No, I don’t,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

I snapped my head up to look at her. “But you kissed him—”

“Oh, please. I was drunk.” The moment I freed her wrist, she wiped her chin with the back of her hand. “Kiki and Randall had paired off, and Matty was obviously drooling over you, so I just…” She trailed off, shrugging. So she wasn’t trying to swoop in and steal Dylan. Once again, she was simply afraid to be alone. How the hell had I missed this? I’d been such a self-absorbed twat.

Once her other wrist was free, she shoved me back. “Get away!” She doubled over to reach the knot securing her right ankle.

“I’m not going to hurt you—” I tried moving to her left ankle, but she swatted me away. “I’m telling you the truth!”

“Yeah, right.”

“Zoey, please. I need your help getting into Andrew’s laptop. Caelyn’s injured, and I have to get her to the hospital—”

She eyed me suspiciously. “You have his laptop?”

“Yeah … well, his Chromebook.” I scrambled to his backpack where I’d dropped it by the door.

“How’d you get it? How’d you fight him off? Where is he?”

“Never mind that. Will you help me? Please?”

“I still don’t understand,” Zoey said as she freed her left ankle and rolled both like they’d gone stiff. “If Dylan took Caelyn, why wasn’t she there?”

My stomach sank. She’d better not have been there. “I don’t know.” From the look on Zoey’s face, I could tell she still didn’t believe me. “I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Well, what makes you think getting into his laptop will help?”

“I’m hoping there’s a clue on here about where she is. It’s all I’ve got. I’m at a dead end otherwise.” She still looked skeptical. “I know you have absolutely no reason to trust me. But Andrew really took my sister. He really made me do all those things. I swear it. I’m so sorry I tied you up. I’m sorrier than you can ever know. But please. Help me find Caelyn. I know you can get in here faster than the cops can.” I brandished his laptop.

She poked her tongue into her cheek, considering me. She had to know the panic on my face was real. Finally, she grabbed the laptop. “Alright, fine. But first I need a fucking drink.”

“Thank you.”

I followed Zoey into the kitchen. She slid Andrew’s laptop onto the counter and filled a glass with tap water, downing the whole thing in one long gulp. Then she filled it again before opening the laptop. Password required. She blew air between her lips. “Alright. This should be easy enough. I need to grab my laptop and USB. And … ah.” She spotted her phone on the kitchen table where I’d left it earlier and pocketed it before heading upstairs. For a moment, I considered following, worried she’d call the police. But then I remembered … An0nym0us1 was dead. He couldn’t hurt Caelyn anymore.

Zoey returned a moment later, her own laptop in tow. I sat across from her at the kitchen table as she got to work, first plugging a USB drive into her own laptop and typing away. “What’re you doing?” I asked.

“Do you want me to concentrate or not?” she snipped.

“Sorry.”

“I’ve written some scripts to crack passwords and stuff,” she explained anyway, “just messing around. I need to make some tweaks first.”

“Oh.” As she typed, I wandered back to the counter and picked up a pen next to the Blooms’ shopping list, absentmindedly twirling it. My stomach gurgled as I eyed a decorative bowl filled with apples and bananas. I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday.

Zoey kept regarding me warily as she worked.

“I won’t bite,” I said.

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