Hide and Seek: Can You Find Me? [EDITING]

Chapter 5

Chapter 5  

"You're saying I just did a crime that was supposed to be faulted on you?" I straightened things out as I light the cigar Dell just gave me. Minty, I thought as one edge of it slipped between my lips. Just like how I like it.

The girl just dragged me out of the hallway and to the nearly empty parking lot in attempt to piss off unwanted attentions. There was barely a dozen of car in the spacious land of asphalt, and even fewer people around. Strange, I thought, considering that the school wings were packed.

"Pretty much," she clutched hers between her fingers, showing her extruding knuckles. "I would have choose a better time, though," her breath came out as smoke, puffing and forming circular shapes before vanishing in the air. "You know, if I was you."

She was right.

Day by day I tried to lock my animalistic side deep down inside my body so I wouldn't have to deal with cops, again. Not when my identity was fake, not when I just ran away from an ongoing case. Most of all, not when my mother is the number one suspect of a homicide investigation. She told me to seal my lips, and that's exactly what I did. After all, where can I earn my allowances once she's gone to jail? Exactly.

This wasn't the best time to do any crime. Staying invisible until the case was closed was the best we could do. That means no spotlight, avoiding complications and even small feuds. Mom would not be very happy if I inform her that I committed a murder just a few weeks after we moved out as someone else. Because as far as the police knew, Emily and Hilda Feller was dead, not living the jet set life in a lush apartment in New York.

Dead people were supposed to be under the radar, and that's exactly what we should have done.

"I really should thank you," Dell broke the silence. "Couldn't imagine what would my parents think of when they hear my name on the radio, announced as the killer of the only daughter of New York's most powerful stock owner."

"What was in your mind?" I let go a dry laugh. Dell's parents were also two of New York most influential people. Having an image of how perfect their only daughter was, her parents never suspect anything bad came out from her. She was their little wonderland, and she didn't bother to tell her what she did behind their knowledge. In front of the media, and to the whole world, Fidelle Cantry was one perfect portrait of how a girl should be.

"Just the traditional stuff," she shrugged, then shoving another stick of cigar off its box. The traditional stuff she meant, or known as The Cut, involves a ridiculously sharp knife - One tiny scratch on your wrist and goodbye world - and a hell load of gut. It takes at least a Dell to perform this act; someone ruthless enough. Someone who will not cry upon their mother's death, who could laugh during the moment of pain, and whose mind is fucked up enough to torture and smile. Torture and smile.

Flinging the last quarter of her green Marlboro, Dell pierced her blue orbs on mine. I was flustered by her action, but not for long. "Look at me," she croaked. "Look at me in the eyes and tell me that didn't feel right."

"That didn't feel right," I answered right away. My heart was thumping beyond control. The palms of my hands were sweating like crazy, it dripped and pooled on the asphalt below me. I hastily clenched my fingers, shaping them into fists so the liquid would stop raining down. However, it managed to slip through the tiny gaps and starting to puddle.

Dell, having an eyesight of  an eagle, noticed the abnormality of my sweat gland and grinned wickedly. Fuck, I can't even trust my own body. "My ass," she mocked, her eyes still pointing at my fists.