The Bitch You Killed

Chapter Thirty Seven

Song of the Chapter is 'Every Breath You Take' by The Police 

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

When Chase was finally released from the prison, he walked out the front door of the police station with me following behind him. For several seconds I watched as he just stood on the tarmac looking about as if unable to believe that he had finally been let go or that it was just that easy to get out.

"No-one is here to get me," he muttered quietly as he finally started to make his way down the steps.

It wasn't until then that I realised that he was correct. Neither of our parents were here to get him.

"They probably don't know you're out," I offered as I followed him in the direction of the centre of town.

"They do. Higgins rang them. They just didn't come because they think I'm a murderer," he replied stoicly. He didn't turn back to face me or allow emotion to pass through his voice as he said it. He stated it as though it was a fact which he himself believed.

"You're not a murderer, you're my brother."

With that, he stopped and turned around to face me, completely ignoring the fact that to the ordinary person who walked by it looked like he was a few sandwiches short of a picnic on account of him staring furiously into thin air.

"You just don't get it," he said angrily as he tried to force the words from his throat, "you can't fucking help me change everyone's opinion on whether I killed you. I will have to go through my life with this hanging over my shoulders. If that wasn't bad enough, now you want me to kill your ex-boyfriend. Do you even care about what happens to me in all of this? Or is it simply a case of fuck everyone else as long as you get what you want?"

We stood staring angrily at each other for several seconds, his glare daring me to argue. I will admit that trying to coax him into murder was risky, but I had a plan that was full proof. There was no way in hell I would have even suggested it if I thought that it would bounce back on him. Never.

"Give me some credit please Chase, I know what I'm doing and as long as you do as I say, nothing will ever happen to implicate you in any of this. You'll simply be the brother of the poor girl who was murdered. By the time the twists of the case unfold, journalists and writers will be begging to do interviews with you," I replied before trudging ahead of him. "And if you want this to go smoothly then don't ever react like that in public again. Remember that you're not the crazy one here – I am."

Instead of replying, Chase closed his slightly agape mouth and continued to walk down the road alongside me. We didn't encounter anyone in the forty minutes it took to get to our driveway. Outside, Chase stood for five minutes just staring at the property and I found myself unable to do much else either. On the outside, it looked exactly as it did on any other day. You would never have guessed that a cold hearted murder was carried out in the garden or that the property was used as a way of sending me into emotional turmoil. It just looked like an ordinary house.

In a sense, I couldn't help but feel like the house was ruined for me. It no longer gave me the feeling of complete happiness or safety. Instead I felt like I was being watched as I stood outside. I turned around and surveyed the area until my gaze was drawn to the house across the street. It wasn't until now that I wa really looking at it that I noticed how ominous the green ivy looked as it cloaked the walls, twisting and turning as though it was stretching to reach something. The ivy seemed to be really drawn to the window on the left side of the house, the room which Tyler called his bedroom. It was like the plant was drawn to the evil that lived inside of the room or maybe it was the evil that lived inside of Tyler which was the real goal for the creeping branches. It was only after this thought that I noticed Tyler was standing looking in my direction in his bedroom. He had obviously noticed that Chase had been let out which was probably causing thoughts to swirl around his twisted little head. I could almost feel his anxiety blanketing my own senses as I continued to stare at him.