Chapter 3 My mother’s fiancé’s son

My legs felt heavy as I pushed open the front door of our house. My head was pounding, the image of Maya’s lifeless face still flashing behind my eyelids every time I blinked. I hadn't even bothered to fix my hair or smooth down my wrinkled hoodie before walking inside.

Laughter bounced off the walls of the living room. Warm, soft laughter.

I took a few steps into the hallway and stopped. My mother was standing near the entrance to the dining room, holding a glass of wine, smiling warmly up at a man sitting on the couch.

The moment my mother’s eyes landed on me, her laughter instantly died.

She excused herself from the man, set her wine glass down on a side table, and rushed toward me. She grabbed my arm tightly, pulling me into the shadows of the foyer, her eyes wide with irritation as she scolded me in a harsh whisper.

“Thea! Look at you!” she hissed, taking in my messy hair, my oversized hoodie, and my faded sneakers. “You look like you just rolled out of a ditch! And why are you coming in so late? I told you we have an important guest tonight!”

I pulled my arm back, arguing weakly, my voice raspy. “You specifically said to be home by five, Mom. It is literally four fifty-nine.”

My mother rolled her eyes, letting out a frustrated breath. “Don't smart-mouth me, Thea. Look at yourself. Go upstairs right now and put on something decent before—”

“And is this the lovely dancer?”

A deep, smooth voice interrupted us.

A tall, broad-shouldered older man stepped out from the living room into the hallway. He was wearing an expensive, tailored suit, his grey hair neatly styled, and a warm smile on his face.

He walked right up to us and extended a hand toward me. “Thea. It is so wonderful to finally meet you. I’m Calvin.”

I hesitated for a second, my mind still sluggish, before reaching out to lightly shake his hand. “Hi... nice to meet you, Calvin.”

My mother immediately slid over to stand right beside Calvin, beaming with pride, her hand resting on his arm. She shot me a sharp, warning glare, telling me to behave myself and keep my mouth shut.

“Thea, this is Calvin,” my mother said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “I’ve talked to you about him, remember?”

I didn't say anything. I just stood there, my hands clasped tightly in front of my hoodie.

Calvin cleared his throat softly, his warm expression shifting into a slightly stiff smile. He turned his head toward the dark hallway leading to the backyard patio, his tone lowering slightly.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Calvin said, looking back at me. “My son is a very difficult person to be around, but I trust you two will get on with each other just fine.”

I blinked, my brow pulling together in deep confusion. Son? What son?

Calvin cleared his throat again, much more firmly this time. “Emmett. Get in here.”

A moment later, heavy footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor.

A taller, sturdier, and much broader boy stepped out of the shadows and strided into the light of the foyer.

My breath caught in my throat. He was infinitely handsome, a complete beauty, though there was a dark, dangerous roughness in his eyes. Tattoos poked out from beneath the collar and sleeves of his black shirt, dark ink creeping across his chest and up the sides of his neck.

His dark hair was a total mess, loose strands falling over his forehead as if he had just stepped out of a hot shower. His hazel eyes were heavy, languid, and completely blown out. He didn't even seem fully present. Was he high?

Calvin’s stiff smile didn't waver as he gestured toward the boy. “Thea, this is Emmett, my son. A hockey player. And your soon-to-be stepbrother.”

A cold shock washed through my body. I stumbled back half a step, staring between Calvin and the boy.

“I’m... I’m sorry, w-what?” I managed to choke out.

My mother, Gladys, immediately took over. She stepped forward, gushing with excitement as she grabbed my hand. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Thea! Calvin and I are getting married this weekend, and Emmett here is going to be your stepbrother. We are finally going to be a complete family again!”

“Mom, wait—” I started to object, my voice rising in panic. “This weekend? You didn't even tell me—”

Gladys cut me off with a single, sharp look. Her eyes narrowed in a silent, measuring threat, ordering me to smile, shut my mouth, and pretend to be happy about this absurd news.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my lips into a tight, fake smile. “Right... Wow. That’s... great news.”

I threw a quick glance over at Emmett.

He looked like he didn't even want to be in the same room as us. In fact, he looked like he didn't even know where he was at this point. He was leaning against the doorframe, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring blankly at the floor as if we were all completely invisible to him.

“Let’s all sit down for dinner, shall we?” Calvin suggested, clapping his hands together softly. “The food is getting cold.”

We all retired to the long dining room table. Calvin sat at the head, my mother sat to his right, and I was forced to sit directly across from Emmett.

As my mother chatted endlessly about flower arrangements, table settings, and wedding dresses, I couldn't keep my eyes off Emmett. He was so incredibly out of place in our quiet, neat home. He looked different from any boy I had ever known, darker, heavier, and completely untamed. He hadn't touched a single bite of his food. He just stared at his plate, occasionally rolling his jaw.

Suddenly, a sharp, loud buzzing sound broke through my mother’s chatter.

It was a phone, vibrating loudly against the wooden table right next to Emmett’s arm.

Calvin’s smile twitched slightly, a flash of deep annoyance passing over his face, though he quickly masked it with a polite chuckle.

Without saying a single word, without asking to be excused, Emmett reached out with long fingers, snatched his phone off the table, and stood up from his chair.

“Emmett,” Calvin said, his voice laced with warning, though his tight smile stayed glued on his face. “We are in the middle of dinner.”

Emmett ignored him completely. He turned around and began walking toward the glass sliding doors that led out to the back garden.

My eyes followed him as he walked away.

He reached up with one hand to pull at his dark collar, loosening the fabric as he pushed the glass door open. The motion tilted his head back slightly, bringing his neck into the bright overhead light of the patio.

My entire body froze solid.

Right there, creeping out from beneath his collar and stretching up toward his jawline, was a jet-black tattoo. A sharp, stylized crown intertwined with a barbed rose stem.

I stopped breathing. The air in my lungs completely evaporated.

No. No, no, no. That’s impossible.

My vision blurred for a second as my head began to spin. I closed my eyes tightly, shaking my head slightly, telling myself I was just losing my mind. I was traumatized. I was seeing things because of what happened to Maya last night.

I opened my eyes again and stared through the glass door.

The patio light illuminated his profile perfectly. The messy hair. The sharp jawline. The exact black crown and barbed rose.

It was him.

The boy standing over Maya’s body in the dark alley. The boy who picked up her phone. The Red Rose Killer.

My blood turned to pure ice. Every muscle in my body locked up, stiff and paralyzed with overwhelming terror. My hands began to shake so violently beneath the table that I had to clasp them together in my lap to keep them from hitting the wood.

“Thea? Sweetheart, are you listening?”

My mother’s voice snapped me out of my trance. I slowly turned my head, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes.

“I asked if you think we should go with pale pink or classic white for the table runners?” Gladys asked, tilting her head with a smile.

“I... um...” I stuttered, my throat completely dry. “Pale pink is fine.”

Calvin chuckled softly, taking a sip of his wine. “You seem a bit distracted, Thea. Is everything alright?”

“Fine,” I choked out, giving them a short, clipped answer. “Everything is fine.”

My brain was screaming. What are the odds? What are the absolute odds that my mother’s new fiancé’s son is the monster who murdered my friend last night?

I couldn't just sit here. I couldn't just eat dinner while a killer was standing in our backyard.

I pushed my chair back, the wooden legs scraping loudly against the floor.

“Excuse me,” I said abruptly, not waiting for my mother’s permission. “I need to use the restroom.”

I walked out of the dining room, but I didn't go to the bathroom. I moved quietly down the hallway, heading straight toward the side door that led outside to the dark backyard.

I pushed the door open, stepping out into the chilly night air, my chest tight as I rounded the corner of the house to confront him.

But the moment I stepped onto the patio, what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks.