How to Survive Your Murder by Danielle Valentine

Author:Danielle Valentine [Valentine, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Claire’s fine, I tell myself. She’s at the gym, far away from the murderer. But I stare at my phone screen like I’m capable of burning holes through the thing with my eyes, unable to move or even inhale.

If she’s so fine, then why the hell isn’t she texting me back?

“Could you drop me off at the gym?” I ask, looking back at Wes.

“I’m not just leaving you somewhere.” Wes’s eyebrows tug together slightly. It can barely be considered an expression, but still, I’m not used to seeing it on his face. When I picture Wes, his eyes are distant and brooding, and there’s a wry twist to his smile that says you didn’t get the joke. Concern looks strange on him.

A shiver goes through me. Nothing’s the way it should be tonight.

He glances at me. “If you need to go to the gym, that’s cool. But I’m coming with you.” A pickup truck cuts him off and he steps too hard on the brake, causing the car to jerk. I slam back against my seat, my breath a hard lump in my throat.

After a beat, I fumble for my seat belt, thinking about what Final Girl said. Forty-seven percent of people killed in car accidents weren’t wearing their seat belts.

Next to me, Wes releases a low breath. “Is this about what happened to that girl in the cornfield?”

“It’s not a prank,” I rush to say.

Wes raises an eyebrow. “I never thought it was.”

“Really? Because everyone else is convinced it’s just some big Halloween joke.”

“Yeah, I heard that version,” Wes says, his voice low and even. “Sounds like a pretty fucked-up joke to me. You sure you don’t want me to take you to the cops?”

Relief opens up inside me. At least I don’t have to worry about explaining that. “No,” I say, turning to Wes. “No cops. Right now, I have to find my sister. Just trust me on this, okay?”

Wes chews his lip. Despite the stress of the moment, it strikes me as almost funny that he’s hesitating. He likes to pretend he’s such an anarchist, but deep down, he’s just a good boy who follows the rules like everyone else. It’s the kind of thing I would tease him about if everything wasn’t so messed up right now.

Eventually, he turns his gaze back to the road. “All right,” he says. “Let’s find your sister.”

He jerks his steering wheel to the side without bothering to use his turn signal, causing the Jeep to fly across two lanes of traffic.

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