Page 44 of On Your Life

Ican’t sleep. My fingers hammer the keys harder with every password attempt, each wrong combination pissing me off more than the last. He never changed his password. I told him a hundred fucking times that using the same password for everything was practically begging someone to hack into every account he had. He thought it was hilarious.

Y-o-u-r-m-o-m

*INVALID CREDENTIALS*

y-o-u-r-m-o-m

*INVALID CREDENTIALS*

P-a-s-s-w-o-r-d

*INVALID CREDENTIALS*

P-a-s-s-w-o-r-d-1

*INVALID CREDENTIALS*

“Fuck,” I say, leaning back into the couch cushion.

Why would he make this different? It doesn’t make any sense. My heart beats like a drum as I shuffle through the box of his belongings for any sort of clue. As expected there’s nothing. Fine, I’ll have to figure it out a different way.

“Shadow! Kennel!” I yell, my voice echoing through the silent house.

A few seconds later, claws click against the hardwood. Shadow trots down the hallway from wherever he decided to take his afternoon nap and reluctantly goes into his cage.

Big puppy dog eyes stare at me like this is the last place he wants to be. I wag my finger at him.

“Don’t be like that.”

He tilts his head and I scratch behind his ears before locking the cage. The puppy dog eyes don’t work on me as easily anymore. I learned my lesson after coming home to my couch stuffing scattered across the living room.

“I’ll be right back, buddy,” I reassure him.

I grab my keys. I’m not going to be able to sleep until I figure this out. It’s gnawing at my bones like a disease.

I know I should leave it alone. I know that it was someone’s job to investigate this shit. But the laptop never made it into trial. Maybe they already checked it and found nothing. The police could have changed the password to make it easier for them to access for all I know.

I don’t know, but I just want to see for myself. I need to feel like I did something.

Everything in me says that I’ll find messages from my little killer. Probably begging him for a second of his time. The amount of women that blew his phone up everyday was ridiculous. He loved to comment on my extracurricular activities. Funny how he never seemed nearly as interested in discussing his own.

A pang of jealousy crawls through me before I can stop it. What would she have wanted with him? Would she have chosen me instead if she’d met me first? I could have been the victim.

If things had gone differently, they could have found me face down in a creek bed instead of Conner. The thought sends a chill down my spine.

I saw the way she looked at me with my cock deep inside her. It wasn’t fear, not entirely. She’s standing on the same fucking tightrope that I am, and neither of us seemed interested in stepping away. I wonder who is going to fall.

I'd like to think Conner wasn’t so stupid. A laugh escapes me thinking back on how many times I had to call him to save him from being stuck with someone for too long.

When he wanted a one night stand he meant it. I never judged. He could never settle down but I always figured he hadn’t found the right person yet.

Unfortunately, he found the worst possible one instead. And now he’s dead. Now I’m left without the friend that was more like a brother to me.

I park my truck in the cul-de-sac. His car still sits parked outside of the house like it always did. I have to remind myself that he’s not home. He’s not coming home.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs before I get out. Time to deal with his fucking mother.

I have been ignoring her calls and texts recently. At least I know she’s alive because they’re nonstop. That’s good enough for me.