The Cabin (16 page)

I fiddled with my fingers as we sat silently in Blake's bedroom.

“Who do you think killed them?” Blake asked, staring up at the ceiling. Neither of us had said a word since we'd arrived twenty minutes ago. It hadn't taken me long to calm down. Although Blake couldn't find the words to comfort me, he'd had no trouble letting his actions do the talking.

I shrugged. That was a question I asked myself about a thousand times an hour, and the answer never changed.
I don't know.
“I don't want it to be any of them.”

“You'd prefer it to be me,” he whispered, his hand freezing on my knee where he'd been making small circles since we'd sat down.

“No,” I replied. I should've seen that coming. I hated that he felt like an outsider with everyone. As far as I was concerned, he was stuck with us. He was part of our group now. “I should probably want that, but I don't.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow. “Of course you do.”

“I don't. Honestly. I don't want the killer to be anyone I know. There has to be another explanation.”

“But there isn't, is there? We both know Lawrence was pretty pissed off, but it's not him.”

Deep down I knew that, but I couldn't admit it aloud and make it real. “Eventually you're going to have to accept that one of your friends is a killer.”

“Who do you think it is?” I asked. He had said Kyle a couple of times before, but Blake's reasons were ridiculous. I think his suspicions had more to do with the fact that they'd got along the least that night.

“I don't know.” He flopped back on the mattress. “No one's saying much. I still think Kyle, but I'm not ruling the other two out just yet.”

They have said much, just not to you.
I had learned things about my friends recently that had shocked me. Everyone had a reason for wanting to hurt Josh and Courtney. Should I tell Blake and see if he could figure it out from what I knew? He wasn't as close as I was to the others, so perhaps there was something blindingly obvious that I was missing.

“Blake,” I said slowly, still mentally debating whether I should say anything or not.
Bad idea, Mackenzie.

“Yeah?”

I couldn't stop myself. “There are some things about Megan and Kyle you don't know.” I was officially the biggest bitch on the planet.

His expression didn't change. “What things?”

“They had motives,” I whispered.

The air turned so thick I thought I was going to choke. I kept forgetting that Blake wasn't just around to help me out; he was a “person of interest” too
and
Josh's brother. “Go on…”

Why had I ever thought it was a good idea to tell him? Of course he was going to think their secrets made them guilty. He wanted someone to pay for Josh's death and already thought one of them had blood on their hands.

Not only was I a horrible friend, but I was an idiot too.

But I'd gone and told him they had motives, so I couldn't backtrack without him getting suspicious and thinking the worst—of me. He'd probably think
I
was trying to cover
my
tracks.

“Josh blackmailed me. You resented him,” I said, making it clear we each had motives and he couldn't just jump into blaming the others. “Megan spiked Gigi's drink, which forced Courtney to drive the night of the crash that killed Gigi and Tilly, and Kyle was having an affair with Courtney.” The words left a bitter taste on my tongue.

“Courtney was cheating on Josh?”

“Yeah. Kyle said it ended a few months ago, but it went on for a long time.”

Blake snorted. “Well, my brother was a cocky, arrogant bastard and probably deserved it.”

My spine straightened in shock. That wasn't the reaction I'd expected. At all. “Blake, what…?”

“Come on, like you didn't think the same. Something like that would have deflated Josh's ego a bit. I'm just disappointed he never knew. What about Aaron?”

“What?” I shook my head, trying to keep up. Now Blake was on to Aaron? Talk about doing a one-eighty. “What about him?”

“What's his deep, dark secret?”

“Um. He doesn't have one.”

He smirked and looked at me as if to say
ah, bless
. “Of course he doesn't. He's squeaky clean.”

“You think he does?”

“What I think is that nothing would surprise me anymore. Everyone has at least one skeleton in their closet, and you need to ask yourself why Aaron is still hiding his.”

“It's possible he has no secrets, or no secrets to do with Josh and Courtney, anyway.”

Blake was up and in my face so fast it made me dizzy. His close proximity made my head do that swimming thing. If he wanted to have a serious conversation with me, he was going to have to keep a distance. “Mackenzie, you are far too naive and far too trusting.”

I pushed myself back, putting a little space between us. I was flat against the wall, so I hoped he didn't move any closer because I was finding it hard to breathe as it was. “So I've been told.”

“People will take advantage of you.”

I wrapped my arms around my stomach. “Sorry for not wanting to believe my friends are murderers.”

“I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but you need to be careful. Your need to see the best in everyone is going to bite you in the arse. You're blinded by the faith you place in other people, even strangers.”

“Are you talking about you?”

“Yeah, me too. You believe I didn't kill Josh and Courtney, but you know so little about me other than that I resented my mum and brother, and put a man in hospital.”

My lungs burned with the need for oxygen but I couldn't get them to work.
What's he saying?
“Are you telling me you did it?”

He sighed. “No, Mackenzie, I'm telling you that you wouldn't be able to tell if I were guilty. Which one of your friends is most likely to have murdered Josh and Courtney?”

“I don't know. None of them.”

He smiled and cocked his head to the side. “There you go. You know it's one of us, but you refuse to face it. You know them more than anyone else. You know which one of them is the most likely, even if you won't acknowledge or accept it.”

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.

“Gut instinct, Mackenzie, who is it?”

“I don't know, Blake!” I hopped off the bed and paced his room. What was he doing to me? He watched me like a hawk. “I don't know. I have no bloody idea!”

“You do.”

“No, I don't!” I shouted. “Stop it, you…you arse!” He broke out into a full smile that was filled to the brim with amusement. “I want to punch you so bad right now.”

“Look, I'm not trying to piss you off—”

“Then stop pissing me off.”

“You want my help or not?”

I shook my head and walked out of his room. “No, I just want you to leave me alone. I'll walk to get my car.”

He didn't follow me as I left his house, but I didn't expect him to. He wasn't the type to run after a girl. It was getting late, and the dim streetlights just about lit my way. I was supposed to be at Megan's, but I couldn't face it. The air was warm, it being August and the middle of a “heat wave,” but I still wrapped my arms around my chest.

I was halfway home when my phone beeped with a text message. I still had to pick up my car from the station at some point.

80% of victims know their murderer. Think about who you know, Mackenzie.

My feet planted to the ground. Sucking in a shaky breath, I reread the message. What was this? A threat?

It was from the same number as the other sinister text messages. My heart raced and pulse throbbed in my ears. I looked over my shoulder, clenching the phone in my fist. No one was around—that I could see, anyway. I held my breath and strained to listen for footsteps or some other sound that someone was following me. The wind blew softly, rustling leaves on nearby trees, but I couldn't hear anything else.

Because maybe they're standing still watching you.

A shudder ripped up my spine and I started walking faster.

I was breathing too hard to hear anything else. Taking another glance over my shoulder, I scanned the surrounding area. Somewhere behind me, I heard a door slam. The thud sounded wooden, as if it came from a shed. I didn't care what it was. I broke into a sprint.

I didn't see or speak to any of my friends that night because I was too freaked out.
One of my friends is probably the killer.

I found myself obsessively reading the mysterious text messages and googling the cell number. There were no details listed. Of course.

I sat on my bed with my legs crossed, staring at my phone. Was I being told I knew who'd killed Josh and Courtney, or was someone trying to tell me I could be next?

What did it all mean?

Blake thought I already knew the killer. Could these messages be from him?

Could it be Megan, Kyle, or Aaron?

• • •

Monday, August 24

That night, I barely slept. In the morning, I rubbed my stinging eyes and reached for a bottle of water on my bedside table. My head hammered with a splitting headache.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Mum said, poking her head around my door. “Are you OK?”

“Morning. I'm fine. Are you and Dad going to work now?”

“Just about to leave. Are you sure you don't want to come to the office with me?”

“I'm sure, Mum.”

She leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms over her chest. “OK. Promise you'll call if you need anything?”

“I promise, but really, I'm OK.”

“Are you seeing anyone today?”

“And by anyone you mean?”

“Will you be seeing any of your friends?”

“No, I'm not feeling very sociable today. I'm just going to lounge in bed and watch rubbish daytime TV.”

“All right.” She smiled and grabbed the door handle, ready to close it again. “We'll see you later. Call if you need anything.”

“I will. See you later.”

I looked at my phone. There were so many missed calls and text messages. I'd blown everyone off last night and stayed home instead of getting pizza at Megan's, and although I felt bad for letting them down, I wanted to be alone too much to care. The secrets Kyle and Megan had hid from me kept picking away at my sanity. I was exhausted, fed up, and emotionally drained. I just wanted the truth.

And someone had sent me that scary text, which I didn't know what to make of.

I wanted to go and see Aaron, but I didn't. I wanted to see Blake, but I couldn't handle another one of his theories or lectures. I wanted to be alone, but I didn't want to be by myself. And then there was Pete. He had been hurt, possibly because he found out who killed Courtney and Josh. Or possibly because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Groaning, I gripped my hair and flopped down onto the mattress. Why couldn't it be clear? If one of my friends was the murderer, they were not only hiding the truth, but they were also allowing the rest of us to be suspects. How far would they let it go? If I were somehow charged, would the real killer let me go to prison?

That wasn't friendship. I would never put myself before someone I love. Wow, Blake was right. I was too trusting.

Somewhere between overthinking and throwing clothes from the heap on my floor in frustration, I had a moment of clarity. One of my friends was lying to me, and I had to look at the details the way Blake did.

This was beyond proving our innocence now. Those texts were threatening. My stomach turned over in fear. The killer could want more blood.

Thankfully, Aaron's car was the only one in his drive when I got to his house after walking to get my car. There wasn't a single person in this world that didn't lie; it was just that some lies were harmless and others were dangerous. Sometimes, it was hard to figure out the difference. I was going to find out what secrets Aaron was keeping, what lies he had told.

It took me longer than it should have to get out of the car. I had one friend left who, as of right then, I still trusted. That could change soon.

The front door opened, and I knew I had been sitting in the car too long. Aaron had obviously seen me. He stepped onto the lawn, looking at me like I'd grown another head. “Kenz, what're you doing?” he asked over the sound of my car engine humming.

I turned the key and opened the door. “Sorry, I was in another world.”
One where I could still pretend at least one of my friends wasn't lying to me.

“You OK?” Aaron looked so innocent. He was all angelic blue eyes and blond hair, kind of like a grown up version of the Milkybar kid but without the glasses. I couldn't imagine him doing anything bad. Ever.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?”

“Sure. You skipped Megan's last night. We missed you.”

I shrugged, stopping in front of him. “Didn't really feel up to it.”

He reached out and stroked his thumb under my eye. “You're not sleeping well either.”

“Do I look that bad?”

“No!” He rolled his baby blues. “Just a little tired and maybe stressed. Come in.”

“Your mum out?”

“Yep, you've got me all to yourself. Go on up and I'll bring chocolate and tea.”

He still seemed like my protective Aaron, and it warmed my heart. “You know me so well.”

I went upstairs to wait for Aaron and curled up on his bed. My phone beeped with a text. It was Blake.

Check his drawers. Text BACKUP if you need me and I'll fire up the Batmobile!

I shook my head, grinning to myself. He was an idiot. I'd told him that I was going to Aaron's, this morning. We'd completely made up after our fight and were pretending it never happened. That was fine with me. I didn't want to talk about it.

I punched back a reply.
Catwoman doesn't need help.

Do you have a Catwoman costume??????

I flipped my phone over and laughed quietly at his latest message.

“What're you laughing at?” Aaron asked as he walked into his room with chocolate bars stuffed in his pockets and a cup of tea in each hand.

“Nothing,” I replied, sitting up to take my mug. Aaron didn't have a very high opinion of Blake, so I didn't want to start our conversation by talking about him. “Thanks.” I sipped my boiling-hot tea, not caring how it burned my tongue, then set it down on the bedside table.

Aaron's phone beeped. He froze, his face falling before pulling it from his pocket.

Oh God, was he getting messages from the stalker too?

“Everything OK?” I asked.

Grunting as he read the message, he tightened his grip on the phone, his forehead creasing. I wanted to tell him about my text but I was scared to. I…I didn't really trust anyone right now. But what if Aaron had received one too?

“Aaron?”

He lowered the phone and a smile spread across his face. It didn't reach his eyes. “Sorry, Kenz. I didn't mean to be distracted by my phone. That's rude of me.” Clearing his throat, he took a sip of his drink.

“What's been going on, then?” I asked. He wasn't going to tell me who the text was from and I couldn't really blame him. I was doing the same.

Aaron sat down and scooted closer to me. “What's on your mind?”

I blinked. Did I look nervous? Afraid? Confused? “Why do you think there's something on my mind?”

“You're doing that lost-in-thought thing where you look miles away.”

Now how was I going to ask him what his secret was without it being obvious? “Nothing much. What's been going on with you? We haven't talked in forever.”

“I know. It's been intense with what happened to Courtney and Josh. And Tilly's birthday is soon.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I miss her.”

“Me too. I just wish we could have sorted things out, so we could've been together more than we were argued. I'm not dealing well with never knowing if we could have made it work or not.”

I knew it wasn't always easy for Aaron to open up about his feelings, so I appreciated his honesty. I felt I had to respect that by being honest too. “Aaron, I don't want to seem harsh, but you and Tilly were a nightmare. I think if you'd had a relationship when you were both a lot older and had had the time to be with other people, it would have worked. But neither of you were ready for anything serious so young. You can't beat yourself up about that.”

“No, you're right. I still love her though. I wished we had that chance to turn us into something more serious.”

“I wish you'd had that chance too. Do you want to do something for her birthday?” I asked. For Gigi's birthday, I had made a cake and we'd all gotten her cards. It was silly really, but even though they were gone, it seemed important to mark the occasion. They still deserved a celebration, and we needed time to honor their memories.

His eyes turned serious and filled with pain. “I'm going to get high and reminisce about the good old times.”

“Get high?” Get high as in… No. Aaron didn't do drugs. Or so I'd thought.

“Come on, Mackenzie. You've never done it?”

“No,” I replied. He had. Obviously.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered under his breath but loud enough for me to hear. “Well, you're missing out. It's very good when you don't want to give a shit about anything.”

I couldn't have been more shocked if he'd pulled his jeans down and peed on the floor. We never really spoke about drugs, but I didn't do them, so I assumed none of my friends had either. Aaron was open about drinking and, unfortunately for the rest of us, sex, so it didn't come as a shock that he'd admitted it—just that he did it.

“Did Tilly do drugs too?”

“Sometimes. I have some weed if you wanna give it a go.”

“What's wrong with you?” I snapped, snatching my arm away as he reached for me. Standing up, I spun around. “I don't know what your problem is, but don't bring me into it. I'm not going to sit here and get high with you, especially with everything else going on!”

“All right, all right,” he said, raising his hands above his head. “I just thought we could cheer ourselves up.”

This wasn't the Aaron I knew. He didn't use drugs. What he was doing now was completely out of character.
Maybe you don't really know his character.
Was he high now? His eyes looked fine, but I had no idea what was going on inside his head.

“If you want to cheer me up, be the Aaron who makes me laugh and feeds me chocolate.” I shook my head. “Look, I'm going. Call me when you want to do something other than get high.”

Aaron didn't follow me as I left his house. I didn't even care that I hadn't found out his deep, dark secret that could make him want to kill Josh and Courtney. There was something wrong with him if he thought I was going to do drugs with him.

I got in my car and slammed the door, taking all my frustrations out as I pounded on my steering wheel. It took only a few seconds for my stomach to free fall. Aaron did drugs and we were all drugged at the cabin. Weed wasn't like Rohypnol, but if he was doing one of them, he could surely get ahold of the other.

Without thinking about where I was going, I drove straight to Blake's house. I really needed his snarky comments. I used to absentmindedly go to Kyle's if there was something on my mind, but now it was Blake's.

I rang the doorbell and waited. As soon he opened the door, I pushed past him. “Come in,” he muttered behind me. Ignoring him, I walked upstairs to his room. His mum wasn't in again, or if she was, I didn't see her. Maybe she was still at the hospital with her brother. Blake's footsteps following me were all I heard. Not even more sarcastic comments. He must've been tired.

“He's on drugs!” I said, dropping down on his bed and throwing my hands in the air.

“What? Aaron?”

“Yep. Weed.”

“I hardly think that's a confession of the year.”

“He does
drugs
, Blake.”

“I wouldn't paint weed smokers and Rohypnol users with the same brush.”

I'd thought the same thing, but…still. It was suspicious. “Do you smoke weed?” I asked.

“No, but I know it's not exactly on the same level as what we were drugged with.”

“Yes, thank you. But doesn't that mean Aaron would be able to get ahold of Rohypnol?”

“Anyone can get ahold of anything.”

“I couldn't. I wouldn't even know where to start! What do you do, hang out on a dodgy street and ask whoever looks like a criminal to sell you drugs?”

Blake's dark eyebrows rose and his mouth dropped. “OK, promise me you won't do that. Ever.”

“Why? Is that how you do it?”

He laughed from deep in his belly and shook his head.
At least one of us finds it funny.

“No, that's how you get yourself raped or murdered, little miss innocent. Seriously, your naivety is worrying.”

“Well, I'm sorry. I don't know how to score drugs.”

He laughed again and flopped down on the bed beside me. “We need to move on,” he said, shaking his head and grinning so wide he looked like a bloody cartoon. “So now you think it was Aaron?”

“That's not what I said,” I replied defensively.

“It pretty much is. You think he can score Rohypnol. You're considering the possibility he killed Courtney and Josh, aren't you?”

“I don't like you anymore, Blake.” He didn't bite back, knowing that was untrue. “I don't know what to think,” I replied, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

He looked up and his blue eyes were icy and intense. “Mackenzie, stop fighting so hard and open up your mind. Distance yourself from your feelings.”

“I tried that already and it doesn't work. You're distant. Why can't you just tell me what happened?”

“I'm distant, not an oracle,” he replied dryly. “Anyway, I've told you what I think, and you continually dismiss my theory.”

“Because you think it's Kyle!”

“Well, now I think it's Aaron.”

His response gave me an instant headache. “But…” I whispered, trailing off, trying to search for the words to defend Aaron.

“But you think so too, don't you?”

“I think if he was into that whole weed scene, then maybe. He still loves Tilly, or what he thinks is love, anyway. Whatever's going on, he's seriously messed up right now,” I said.

“Why did you say it like that, Mackenzie? You think there's something mentally wrong with him? Like a breakdown?”

“No. But Aaron and Tilly weren't good together. Not for longer than a few weeks. Everything ended in an argument and them breaking up. I know they both liked each other, or they wouldn't have kept going back for more, but I don't think they were in love.”

“Is that motive enough, then?”

“Is anything motive enough? People kill randomly because they enjoy it or because someone looked at them a funny way. That's not the important part. If Aaron killed Courtney and Josh, it was driven by revenge or jealousy about their relationship, which have always been strong motives.”

His smirk was back. “Maybe you should be a judge or—”

I clicked my fingers in front of his face and said, “Stay with me.” We didn't have time for him to go off on a tangent. “You think Aaron, so I think we should look into him more.”

“I'm a little hurt that you're using me.”

“Using you how?”

“You think it could be Aaron too, so you're using me as an excuse to drive down that road, to collect evidence. You've dismissed everything else I've said or told me I'm an idiot, but now you agree—”

“I haven't dismissed everything,” I said, playing with my fingers. He was right though: we both thought it could be Aaron, and though I couldn't quite bring myself to admit it out loud, I was using Blake's suspicions to stand in place of my own.

“New rule,” he said, lifting his hand. “If you're going to use me in the future, it will only be when we're both naked.”

I stared blankly. “I knew you were no gentleman, but that is pushing it.”

“Baby, you won't hurt my feelings.”

“No, but I'll hurt yours when I'm left frustrated and complaining about your lousy performance in the sack,” I deadpanned. He lunged for me, making me yelp in surprise. “Blake!” OK, that wasn't supposed to happen. I saw his room tilt as he pinned me to his bed and held my wrists up over my head.

He was on top of me and all coherent thought flew out of the window.

“You're being mean. And you've cruelly insulted me and mocked my performance, which you know is off the charts since I remember
vividly
the way you reacted to my every touch last time.”

Last time and first time. That night meant so much to me and not only because Blake had made sure it was all about me. It was the first time that I'd been with someone since the abortion. He was the first person I'd trusted since Danny.

I laughed breathlessly from beneath him. He was both too close and too far. “Thanks for the offer but I'm busy.” I tried to say the words evenly, but they probably came out in a frazzled rush.

“What part of that did you take as being an offer? Clothes off, Mackenzie.”

I pouted as the fire in my lower abdomen burned out of control. “See, that is why I know you'd be rubbish right now. How unsexy is it when someone tells you to take your clothes off like that?”