4: The legendary axe murderer

Zeke

“Please, please, please can I take the red truck next summer?” my twin sister begged, yanking on the sleeve of my hoodie.

I brushed her off with a light shove, ignoring her the way I always do. But because she’s my insufferable clone, she possesses the exact same stubbornness I do on the ice. She latched right back onto my arm.

“Zee, please. Just say yes.”

“No,” I said flatly, tossing a pair of folded sweatpants into my duffel bag.

“Zeke! Are you being mean to your sister again?” my mom’s voice echoed sharply from the kitchen.

“He is!” Zara yelled back instantly, sticking her tongue out at me.

I shoved the rest of my clothes into the bag, quickening my pace. The faster I packed, the faster I could escape this house and get back to the hockey house.

My ribs were still aching from last night’s game, a dull, throbbing reminder of the defenseman who checked me, and the giant, fluffy mascot who wiped away my rage in a dark alleyway. I've been trying so hard not to think about that alleyway encounter.

“I can lend you mine, Zara. You don't have to bother Zeke,” a familiar voice smooth-talked from the doorway.

Summer immediately let go of my arm and cozied up into her boyfriend’s chest. Within two seconds, they moved into a gross exchange of tongues and saliva that I absolutely did not want to witness. I forced my eyes away, focusing on a rogue sock.

“You're not staying for lunch?” Kyler asked.

He was looking at me over the top of Summer’s head. His tone was overly concerned, dripping with a strange, heavy warmth.

“No. I have to be at the house before sunset,” I answered flatly, throwing the sock into the bag.

“You should stay for lunch, Zeke. You always leave the second you get here,” my mom magically appeared in my doorway, wiping her hands on a flour-stained apron.

Why the hell was my bedroom suddenly the designated family meeting spot? I huffed, turning around to face the crowd. My mom was guarding the exit, and Zara was practically glued to her boyfriend.

Kyler’s massive frame completely swamped her. He was tall, easily 6'3, with broad shoulders that didn't make sense for a guy who wasn't on the hockey team.

“I only have Kyler to keep me company and help me out around here since you're always….wherever it is you go,” Mom added, pointing a wooden spatula at me accusingly.

“It's really no problem, Mrs. McKinney. I love being here,” Kyler told her, his voice shifting into a sweet, perfect-boy cadence. “Especially with Zara.” He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on my grinning sister's cheek.

Of course. Kyler the perfect gentleman. He had my mom and my sister completely wrapped around his little finger. Don't get me wrong, I didn't hate the guy. He was nice to my sister. But there was just something behind that flawless, helpful alter-boy act that sent a cold shiver straight down my gym shorts.

He averted his eyes from Zara, his gaze locking directly onto mine. Then, he gave me a bright, flashing smile. To anyone else, it was a friendly expression. To me? It looked fucking psychotic. Like a textbook serial killer smile. Okay, maybe I needed to chill on the true-crime documentaries, I had just finished a three-part series on Baker Sawyer, the legendary axe murderer, but Kyler’s eyes didn't match his mouth. They were intense.

“Honey, are you even listening to me?” my mom scoffed, snapping me out of it.

“What? Sorry.” I arched a brow.

“She asked if you were bringing Zoey home next weekend,” Zara scowled, adjusting her grip on Kyler’s waist.

“Um. Maybe. She kinda prefers to spend the weekends alone... with me. You know, because of how stressful college is,” I lied, scratching the back of my neck.

Truth was, Zoey and I hadn't been clicking lately. Especially not after last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I didn't see my girlfriend's face. I saw a giant, creamy bear mask. Get a grip, Zeke.

I turned around, zipping my duffel bag shut with a harsh snap. I threw the heavy strap over my good shoulder and gave them a look that clearly said I’m leaving now.

Mom sighed, stepping into the room to peck my cheek. I secretly loved being away from the chaos of this house, but I’d miss her.

“Call me every evening,” she ordered, pointing a finger at me as she began backward-stepping out of my room like a budget James Bond.

“You know damn well I won't be doing that,” I shouted after her.

“Whatever. I won't even miss you a tiny bit,” Zara chimed in, suddenly raising her phone and snapping a picture of me.

“Sure. You claim you won't miss your twin, but you're building a massive, creepy archive of me,” I rolled my eyes. “For whatever fake documentary you're making.”

“We basically attend the same college and live like five blocks away,” she shrugged, leaning her head back against Kyler's shoulder.

I pointed two fingers at my eyes, then pointed them at her. “Easier to keep an eye on you.”

“You don't have to worry about her when I'm around,” Kyler chimed in.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I muttered. I didn't say it whole-heartedly. I felt this weird, primal urge to protect my sister from whatever hidden freak inside him was masking itself as a golden retriever.

“Do you need a ride? I can drop you off at the hockey house,” Kyler offered, sliding his phone into his front pocket.

I fought the urge to groan out loud. I forced a tight, fake smile onto my face. “No, thank you. I'll just call Kayden to come get me.”

Zara snorted, looking down at her phone. “Good luck with that. Kayden is currently at an off-campus fraternity house. He literally just posted a video sniffing lines off a naked girl's chest.”

Fucking Kayden. I was going to murder him. I stood there for a tense second, realizing I was trapped. I looked at my heavy bag, thought about my cracked ribs, and sighed. “Um. I guess I’ll be needing that ride after all.”

Kyler’s eyes darkened with a sudden, sharp glint of satisfaction. “I’ve got you,” he said softly.

He turned and exited the room first, his heavy, measured footsteps echoing down the hallway. I grabbed my bag, a sudden knot forming tight in my stomach. It was going to be a long, fucking terrifying ride to Ravenscroft College.