Calla had a little brother.
Despite everything that they'd learned, this was the thought that hounded Cooper as they made the long drive back home.
The skies opened up above them, pummeling Cooper's car with an onslaught of rain. He wasn't sure how much more this poor thing could handle, but she chugged along just the same, wheezing a little as she went.
He should've been concerned about the very real possibility of breaking down on the side of the highway, but he wasn't. His thoughts were elsewhere, adrift in a sea of unwelcome thoughts.
Yes, Calla's faulty memory troubled him. She had a history of forgetting important details—like the time she'd committed murder in cold blood. The fact that she was dealing with more of the same now wasn't a good sign. Cooper knew that.
But he also knew she hadn't killed her brother. Maybe that made him an optimistic fool. He didn't care.
If anything, he was more invested in the why of it all. Why now? What about their situation had triggered the memory?
Cooper opened his mouth to ask that very question. But before he could, Calla sighed. "No."
"I still think—"
"Oop. I still don't care," she drawled, folding her arms and bracing her head against the back of the seat.
"You block out unpleasant memories," Cooper told her, trying to keep some sense of composure. "What if—"
"Why don't we talk about your trauma?" she shot back, pinning him with a hostile glare. "Let's talk about Venus. Let's talk about the fact that your girlfriend is dead, and you hardly seem to care at all. Hmm? Do we want to talk about that?"
Cooper tensed. "I care," he mumbled, the words lost in the wash of the rain pinging against the roof of the car.
"What was that?" Calla pressed.
"I care!" he shouted, startling them both. "I care, alright? Venus..." He struggled to find the right words. "God, I don't know. I have no idea if I loved her. She was my first real girlfriend. And she made me happy sometimes. Is that love?"
Calla opened her mouth to respond. But before she could, he laughed in disbelief. "Christ. Why am I asking you about love? Riddle me that. Are you even capable of love?" Cooper bit out, regretting the words almost immediately.
Calla stared straight ahead, immobile.
White-hot guilt burned his throat. "I...Calla—"
"Don't," she warned him, her voice barely audible above the rain. "Just...stop talking."
They should've been celebrating. After all, they'd accomplished what they set out to do. By cross-referencing Ryan's extensive list of buyers with the six individuals who'd left their fingerprints behind on the murder weapon, they now had only four suspects still in play who might've been responsible for Rachel's death.
Mike. Gareth. Astrid. And Ryan himself, of course.
They were closer than ever to nailing the killer's ass to the wall. But instead of turning over theories and strategizing their next move, they sat in a chilly silence. Cooper kept thinking of different ways he might apologize. And then he wondered why he had to apologize at all. Calla certainly wouldn't have. Cruel, offhand comments were her specialty.
Yes. And Calla is a clinical psychopath who doesn't have the emotional capacity for remorse. Not the best person to compare yourself to, buddy.
YOU ARE READING
The Devil Inside
Mistério / SuspenseCooper Daniels survived his last brush with death by the grace of God and a teenage psychopath named Calla Parker. And so far, his senior year is off to a great start. His grades are up. His girlfriend is happy. But no matter how hard he tries to tu...
