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“What’s going on? What do you mean it’s Tyler? What’s Tyler?”
“Brett,” I said his name again in a hushed whisper, urgent.
That made him realize it. “Fuck. Your stalker? I’m fifteen minutes away. Can you leave and go to my house?”
“It’s my birthday party. I can’t just leave.” I heard him sigh, and it sounded like he was going to try to convince me to, but I swore I heard something in the hall, so I said, “Got to go.” And then I hung up.
My heart hammered in my chest so loudly I could hear it. I swore the blood in my veins pumped faster. As I slid my phone into my pocket, I crept toward the sink, slow to shut it off. I didn’t hear anything else in the hall—maybe it was my imagination. Now that I knew the truth, I was on high alert, my nerves absolutely fried.
I set my hand on the door knob, swallowing hard. I gathered myself and opened it, and my plan was to return to everyone outside and pretend like nothing was wrong, but after I threw open the door, I knew I couldn’t do that.
Why? Oh, no big reason. The man standing in the hall, just outside the door, threw a wrench into that plan.
Tyler stood, wearing a smile, his hands shoved into his pockets like he was simply waiting for his turn in the bathroom. The green hue of his eyes fixated on me, and I swore I saw that smile of his deepen.
“Is something wrong, Charlie?” he asked. “Did you not like my present?” He sounded utterly normal, not at all how I imagined my stalker would sound.
It took me a few seconds to realize he wanted me to answer him, and I stuttered out, “It—yeah, I like it.”
Tyler’s shoulders went up and down once with a hard sigh, and he stepped closer to me. He stopped when he was less than a foot away, the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Good. I spent a lot more time on it than I did the sketch I left for you on your desk a while back.”
My heart nearly stopped when he said that. He’d… he’d justadmittedit. In case I couldn’t put it together on my own, he wanted me to know it was him. But why? Why now? Why all this? Wasn’t he happy with Claire?
“You have questions,” he said, reading my mind. “Now’s not really a good time for me to answer them.” Tyler smirked, lifting a hand toward me and running his fingers along my jaw. The gesture was weird and unnatural, and I was barely able to resist the way my body wanted to instinctively take a step back to get away from him.
My stalker had never come in through the window, because he had access to a key. The window was a ploy to get me to look elsewhere. Tyler knew me better than most people, because he had Claire. He knew where I lived, where my bedroom was, and where I was going to school.
“Does she know?” I asked, settling for that one question.
“Who, Claire? Of course not. The only people who know are you and me.” He inched closer, the hand that had touched my jaw falling to my arm, his fingers curling around my wrist so hard I had to hold back a wince. “I hope you didn’t tell your boyfriend Ian just now.” He paused, letting the dread settle in. “Or should I call him Brett?”
All I could whisper out what a “What?”
His hand around my wrist tightened even more, and that time I couldn’t hold back the whimper. He wasn’t a very tall or imposing guy, but he was still so much stronger than me. Seven inches taller than me, maybe, and probably almost double my weight. God, why did I have to be built like a fifth grader?
“Your boyfriend, masquerading as Ian, is Brett Banks. Everyone else might believe the disguise, but I knew something was up. He was living in the treehouse for weeks, Charlie. That was a red flag, personally. I did some digging, and then it hit me: Ian is Brett. Brett is Ian. I have to say, I didn’t think you’d ever go for someone likethat.”
He was holding onto my wrist so hard I could practically feel it bruising in real time. I tried to pull away from him, but I couldn’t. Of course, it didn’t help that I was as strong as a dying cat.
“I understand you’re scared, and I know you have lots of questions for me. Tell you what: I’m going to call you tonight and give you a location. You’re going to come, alone, no serial killer boyfriend in tow—and if you don’t come, or if your killer tries to come with you to save the day, I’ll kill Claire.”
His threat hung over me like a hundred-pound weight pushing down on my shoulders. My mind raced. I couldn’t believe this. I honestly couldn’t believe it.
“That’s right,” Tyler whispered, leaning into me as he took my neck in his other hand. “I’ll kill that stupidly naive sister of yours if you don’t do exactly as I say. And, as a bonus, I’ll call into the local police with a tip about a certain man named Ian that I strongly suspect is Brett Banks.”
Fuck. He had me between a rock and a hard place, and he knew it.
“So, what’ll it be?” Tyler asked, his fingers squeezing my neck—not enough to choke, but enough to remind me who was in charge of this particular situation. “Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me, Charlie, or am I going to have to make my point by taking away everything you care about?”
I swallowed, feeling his palm against my throat. “I’ll be good,” I whispered. “I’ll come alone.” Threatening both my sister and Brett; the only two ways he could get me to meet him alone anywhere.
Tyler flashed a pearly white smile and released me, taking a step back and running a hand through his black hair. “Good. Now, let’s get back to the party before anyone gets suspicious.” He gestured for me to go downstairs first.
What choice did I have?
I’ll give you the answer to that: none.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Brett
