Page 61 of The Way We Rot
My phone buzzing in my pocket pulled me from my plans, and I frowned as I yanked it out, confused at who the hell would be calling me. My mother? But it was my old partner. Shit.
I should have ignored it; there was nothing good that could come from taking her call. But curiosity won out. No one knew I was here, and I hadn’t spoken to Phoebe in years. Not since about six months after Jake’s funeral when she gave up on me for good.
“Phoebe,” I said, answering before it timed out.
A sigh came down the line, one of surprise. “I didn’t expect you to answer,” Detective Handler said, a voice familiar but distant. We’d only been partnered a few months when everything went to shit, but we’d been growing close.
In no small part because of Jake’s infatuation with her.
“What’s up?” I asked, leaning against the wall, letting my head slam onto the creaking wood.
“I think you can take a good guess, Adrian.”
I sighed. She always saw right through my bullshit. “Why don’t you tell me and we’ll see.”
“Penelope Karner.” Phoebe’s tone was biting, no pretense. That was part of what Jake liked about her. She didn’t mess about.
“I saw she escaped,” I said, not lying. I did see her escape.
“Mm,” Phoebe continued. “And I saw you worked at the prison and kept that fact from everyone. Do you have her, Adrian? Is she dead in a ditch somewhere because of you?” Her words were strained, teasing but biting.
“No.” I slipped down the wall, landing on my ass. “She’s not, Phoebe. Don’t be ridiculous.”
There was a pause down the line. “Adrian Darling, don’t think I won’t come after you. She deserves the full force of the law, of her punishment, you can’t—”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. We’re not partners anymore,” I spat back.
“And whose fault is that?” came her response, a minute later. A minute of heaviness on the line, no words, just our presence.
I said nothing.
“Adrian. I’m going to find you,” she promised. “I’m looking into you right now. Wherever you’ve gone with her, I’m at your back.”
“I don’t have her,” I lied. “They’ve asked me to work the case too, do you really think I’d—”
“Stop,” Phoebe hissed into my ear. “I’m not stupid. I saw the look in your eyes when you left.” Her voice rose, then just above a whisper, “Jake would be so disappointed if you’ve done this.”
We listened to each other breathe, the words hanging like daggers driven deep into their target.
There was nothing else to say.
Teeth creaking, I hung up the phone, debated smashing it to shit. But if she was going to trace me with it, she would have already. That meant she was keeping it out of work, away from anything official.At least for now, because she had no real evidence, just a hunch.
Still, it made me uneasy. A ticking clock.
I climbed off the floor and straightened myself out, shook out my shoulders and focused back on the task at hand.
Phoebe may be on her way to finding me, but she hadn’t yet. Which meant I still had time, work to do.
I smirked, letting myself sink, and called Penelope’s name again, moving through the halls. When I found her still on the table, her eyes closed and her mouth slack, I was ready. To hurt her. To avenge my brother, even when those closest to him wanted nothing to do with it.
My stomach clenched, my balls tingled in depraved enjoyment. She looked so much like her sister when her features were softer with sleep or lack of consciousness. Like her cognition is what made her hard, harsh.
And what I’d learned of her… it should have lessened my need to hurt her, to make her scared for her life before I took it. But it only spurred me on.
As I walked home, debating what to do, letting my emotions and thoughts wash over me, it had settled.
Penelope Karner was a sickness on this world that needed to go. But I was too. I was sick in the head for what I almost did to Lacey, an innocent, and I was done fighting it. I didn’t kill her sister, did not harm her in any way.
