Cupid's Guide to Murder

Chapter 19: Unraveled

All I saw was a sea of red.

Red balloons, floating in the air, filled the hallways of the school. Scattered red roses and plastered red hearts decorated the walls. I squinted, trying to understand what the hell was going on. Every inch of me seemed to freeze when I finally saw where the commotion led to.

On the walls, written in dark red spray paint, was the word Killer Cupid. That wasn't what made my stomach sink, though. It was the chilling message below it.

Cupid's Guide to Murder Step #6 — 

Always be on the lookout for your next victim.

My body grew ice cold, and the taste of copper flooded my mouth as soon as I bit down on my lip. After going to the beach house, the possibility of Taylor being Killer Cupid haunted me and my sleep. I didn't want to believe she was the one doing all of this.

Maybe she was innocent. Still, she was hiding something huge for me, something that only she had the answers to.

I cast a blurry, frenzied gaze at the newly forming crowd. Some of the other seniors were looking at me, pointing and whispering. I shut them out as I reached for my phone with shaky fingers, typing a message in the group chat.

Where are you guys?

A balloon near me popped, and I immediately staggered back. Dean Ryland grinned, holding the popped balloon in his hand. Being the asshole he was, he stepped closer until he was in my face. "You should've seen the look on your face! Hey, who do you think the victim is this time? Another one of your little slut friends?"

"Fuck you, Dean," I said, glaring at him with as much fury I could muster. My heart was still beating incessantly, and I blew a strand of hair away from my face.

"Sure. After Justin? Or are rumors about you and that murder-boy Griffin true, and you're dating him now?" Dean's smile broadened, making him look like a cat who had found the perfect mouse to play with. "That's a fun couple's bonding exercise. Did you guys kill Natasha together? Or was one of you the murderer, and the other one is Killer Cupid — "

All of a sudden, all I could see was red, and it wasn't just the color that flooded the hallways. It was like something inside of me snapped, lighting a fire in the pit of my stomach. I lunged at him, getting dangerously close, feeling my breath come out in erratic huffs. "You know what, Dean? Maybe I am Killer Cupid. And if I am, you probably should watch that mouth of yours before it's what gets you killed next."

Dean looked at me, appalled. His usually taunting smirk was replaced with something else I had seen before — a look of vulnerability.

A look of fear.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins until it fizzed out. I took a step back, shocked at the words that had come out of my mouth. I had never talked to someone that way, not even to someone like Dean.

"Okay, chill. I was just messing around," Dean said, laughing awkwardly. He walked away, muttering psycho underneath his breath.

I glanced around. More people were looking in my direction now. My breath caught in my throat as I realized how guilty I had made myself sound.

"Is she actually Killer Cupid?" A girl whispered to her friend. I recognized her as Carol Rodney, a girl on the dance team.

"I mean, it is always the ones you don't expect. They used to be friends too, right?" The girl to the right of her, a lanky blonde, shook her head.

"I can already see the headlines. Little Miss Perfect has a perfect breakdown." Friend Number Three shook her head, her ivy-blue eyes a mix of pity and shock.