Halloween House Party (8)

Chapter 8:

“We don’t have all night Quinn” Stanton says with a sickly-sweet smile, her words edging on annoyed as she prepares to take pertinent notes for later review.

Taking a breath, my heart still pounding hard beneath my chest I gather my legs on the chair, resting my chin on my knees before giving my account on the nightmare that was my evening. “Tonight was supposed to be special, date night actually. We had been planning for this party since the beginning of the month. With Cas always off around the world doing modelling shoots and me busy writing we hardly had time for just us.” The tears start dripping down, tickling my chin but I don’t try to stop them.

“What kind of things do you write, murder mysteries?” He’s too close, nose near to brushing my cheek.

Reeves’ snide remark cuts to the bone as I gave him a look of utter disgust. “No, I’m a singer songwriter so more poems and lyrics.”

Stanton gives him a side eye forcing him back to his corner, sleeves bunched up the arms hands in his pockets as he listens silently. “Go on.”

“Anyway, she had her costume picked out pretty much since September, but I was so stressed with being busy I had to put something together completely last minute. But once we were ready, we headed on over, the party something she heard about through her modelling grapevine. I assumed that meant she knew the host.” I can feel the pebbles starting to form in my throat. “We wouldn’t have gone if I had known who was hosting.”

“Why’s that” she pauses her pen’s stroke; eyes pulled to me intrigued.

“The guy throwing it was someone from my past that I didn’t have a good rapport with.”

“Stop beating around the bush kid and just tell us.” Reeves practically stomps over, slamming his fists down on the table giving me a fright, heart pounding two times as fast as I feel prickles run down my skin at his stare.

“He was my ex okay! I wouldn’t have gone to a party my fucking ex was throwing are you kidding?” I bite my lip, the food now sitting idly by, getting colder, my appetite suddenly lost.

Sitting right across, he tugs the folder from Stanton laying out a few photos, spilling them out for me to see. “Is that why you killed your girlfriend? Because she took you to a party hosted by your ex?”

My eyes pull to the middle image, one of her leaning against the sink, bottle jabbed into her perfect body, green corset doused in dripping blood, stab wounds tearing through the costume.

That’s how I’ll remember her forever, not the fun we had, not our first date or the moment she finally told me she loves me. I’ll remember her dead and bleeding out on the floor of my ex’s kitchen. “No! I didn’t kill her, I swear! I fucking loved her jackass, I would never do anything to hurt her, especially not kill her.” I can’t stop the tears from flowing, my eyes red and bloodshot as the sorrow continues to consume me from the inside out.

“Reeves can I see you outside for a minute?” I barely pay attention to the officers as I let my face fall into my knees, bawling my eyes out.

After a few minutes of what I assume is heated arguing in the hall, the door closes and Reeves sits down, that stupid smarmy smile plastered on. “Looks like it’s just going to be us two.”

“Where’s Stanton?” I question, peering over his shoulder with worry as if she’ll suddenly reappear and save me. Doubtful but one can hope.

“Not your concern, now let’s get back to that story of yours. I’m on the edge of my seat.”

His sarcasm isn’t lost on me, the sudden wave of sadness preventing me to snap back. “Shouldn’t we wait for her to come back?”

His gaze darkens at the squeak in my voice, the fear apparent as he eats it up by the spoonful. “She won’t be coming back Quinn, it’s just going to be the two of us for the rest of the night.” Sliding his glasses off his nose, he presses a button in the direction of the cameras, the red light going dead before stuffing the tiny black remote in his pocket. “Now, where were we?”