The Inmate: A gripping psychological thriller Read online

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I say. “If Chelsea doesn’t get to come, she’ll rat me out to my parents.”

  Shane makes a face. “She’s your best friend. You really think she would do that?”

  Oh, she absolutely would. Chelsea might be my best friend, but she is always looking out for number one. But for once, I’m sort of glad. Shane and I have been together for three months, and I’m nervous about being all alone with him. I don’t think he even knows I’m still a virgin. He isn’t one—he hasn’t said so, but I’m sure of it. It’s not possible.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “It’ll be fun to hang out with Chelsea and Brandon.”

  Shane doesn’t protest because Brandon is one of his good friends. But he’s not nervous about being alone with me. He seems excited about any time he gets to spend with me. It’s flattering how much he seems to like me. I dated a few guys before, but Shane is my first real boyfriend. He doesn’t even seem to mind that we have to sneak around because my parents don’t approve of him.

  I glance at my watch—I told my mother I would be home by five. “I better go.”

  “Just another five minutes?”

  “Better not.”

  I don’t want to give my parents any excuse to tell me I can’t go out tonight. It’s only recently that they have eased up on the restrictions from this summer, when a teenage girl named Tracy Gifford from a neighboring town was found murdered in the woods. For a good month after that, everyone was absolutely terrified. But now it’s four months later, and it’s almost like it never happened. Tracy Gifford was such a big deal, and now it’s like she never existed.

  “Okay, fine.” He grabs my shoulder and pulls me close to him. I kiss him, deep and hungry, like we’re in a competition to see who will swallow the other one first. We can’t seem to get enough of each other. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Seeya.”

  I start to open the car door, and then I feel his hand on my shoulder. “Brooke?”

  I turn to look back at him. “Yes?”

  “Brooke, I lope you.”

  I can’t help but grin at him. That’s a private joke between the two of us. I was texting him once that I love ice cream, but I mistyped it and I wrote “I lope ice cream.” You would think my phone would auto correct that, but it didn’t. And then it became a joke. I lope french fries. I lope foot rubs. And then a couple of weeks ago, he blurted out:

  I lope you, Brooke.

  He doesn’t love me. Obviously not. I mean, we’re only seventeen and we’ve only been dating three months. But he lopes me. And that’s almost better than love.

  “I lope you too,” I say.

  Shane laughs, and he releases my shoulder to let me leave the car. As I slam the door to the Chevy, the whole car shakes. Shane’s car is a piece of junk. He literally got it at the junkyard and used his skills from auto mechanics class to rebuild the engine and get the damn thing running. He painted it, and it looks halfway decent now, but I’m always a little worried it’s just going to die in the middle of the road and I’ll have to walk back to civilization in what will almost certainly be incredibly uncomfortable shoes because that’s just my luck.

  But Shane can’t afford a new car. Or even a used car. Even though he works every weekend at the pizza parlor, the only car he can afford is one that he bought from the junkyard.

  And now you know why my parents will never approve of him. Because according to them, much like his car, Shane is “trash.”

  Shane rolls down the passenger side window of the car. “See you tonight, Brooke! Seven-thirty!”

  “Seven-thirty,” I repeat obediently.

  After that confirmation, Shane’s car zooms away, making a lot more noise than a car rightfully should because his muffler is also from the junkyard. I watch the Chevy disappear around the corner because I’m just that kind of infatuated with him. The kind where I have to watch him disappear into the distance. It’s sickening, I know.

  “So what are you doing at seven-thirty, Brooke?”

  I come toppling down from my cloud of love (I mean, lope) at the sound of the voice from behind me. I didn’t notice that Shane had parked dangerously close to the Reese household, which he’s usually careful not to do. Tim Reese is standing on the front lawn, raking up the last of the leaves from the fall.

  Tim. Damn.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  Tim arches an eyebrow at me as I look up at him. I am still not used to looking up at Tim. I’ve known him since we were both in diapers, when he went by Timmy and had a face full of freckles, like a freckle bomb had exploded in his face. He was always a couple of inches shorter than me, then he suddenly shot up about a year ago. I still can’t quite get used to it.

  “Are you meeting Shane at seven-thirty?” Tim presses me.

  I avert my eyes. Chelsea might be my best friend, but Tim knows me better than anybody in the world. “Maybe…”

  Tim’s blue eyes darken. “I can’t believe you’re still dating that jerk.”

  My parents hate Shane, but Tim hates him even more. He hates him with a strange passion that I don’t entirely understand. Tim isn’t the kind of guy who would judge somebody because they drive a third-hand car and live in an old farmhouse that’s one loose shingle away from being condemned. There are other reasons he hates Shane.

  “Tim,” I mutter, “stop it.”

  He rubs his chin. The freckles have mostly faded in the last few years, partially because he’s careful to stay out of the sun. But I miss Tim’s freckles. The freckles were adorable. Without them and now half a head taller than I am, he’s become handsome, but he’s not adorable anymore. Moreover, he seems like a different person. A different kid from the one I spent the summers with, running screaming through the sprinklers in his backyard.

  “Shane’s a jerk,” he declares.

  “Oh, come on…”

  “He is,” Tim snaps. “Him and all his football buddies are a bunch of bullies. I can’t believe you don’t see it, Brooke.”

  I shift between my feet in Tim’s yard, which is muddy from the moisture in the air. The air is heavy and damp, and I can feel my hair starting to curl. The forecast called for heavy rain and thunderstorms tonight, and Chelsea and I are intending to reach the farmhouse before it begins. So I should get a move on, but I hate the judgment on Tim’s face, and I’m desperate to prove him wrong. He doesn’t know Shane the way I do. I used to think Shane was a jerk, but he’s not. He’s a good guy, and I really like him. I lope him. Tim just can’t see it. I wish he could.

  “If you got to know Shane,” I say, “I bet you’d like him.”

  Tim snorts and shakes his head.

  “Listen,” I say, “you should come tonight.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Come where?”

  The words spill out before I can overthink them. “We’re meeting at Shane’s house tonight. His mom is going to be out of town. It’s going to be me and Shane and Chelsea and Brandon.” I raise an eyebrow hopefully. “And you?”

  “Sorry, I’m going to pass.”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun! Just tell your parents you went to Jordan’s house—they’ll never check. We’re all going to spend the night.”

  Tim tilts his head to the side, considering it. He used to make that same expression when we were little kids. It used to be so easy back then. I would go over to Tim’s house and there was no discussion about boyfriends or bullies or any of that. I would come over and we would play. And back then, I felt like it would always be that way. It felt like Tim and I would always be friends that way.

  Tim was the one who bought me the snowflake necklace I always wear. He got it for me for my tenth birthday, because one of our favorite things to do together was play in the snow—sledding, building snowmen, having snowball fights—whenever it snowed, the first thing I would do was tug on my boots and snowsuit and head over to Tim’s house. The necklace was the first genuine piece of jewelry anyone had ever gotten for me. Considering I’
ve had it on every day since then and it hasn’t turned my neck green, I suspect he must have spent a fortune on it. He was probably saving all year to buy it for me.

  “Fine,” he says. “Why not?”

  Vaguely, I’m aware of the fact that Tim never, ever says no to me. But I try not to think about it. There are certain aspects of my relationship with the boy next door that it’s better not to analyze too deeply.

  “That’s great!” I clap my hands together. “Chelsea is picking me up at a quarter after seven. We’ll swing by to get you after.”

  Tim could not possibly look less excited about this. “Fine.”

  Tim thinks the whole thing is a mistake, but he’s wrong. He’s going to have a great time tonight, and I’ll prove to him that Shane is a good guy. And I’ll tell Chelsea to bring along a girl for him as well. After all, may as well show him a good time.

  Chapter 5

  PRESENT DAY

  If it were socially acceptable, Josh would hide between my legs.

  But he’s ten years old, so instead, he is standing close to me, his fingers clinging to my shirt sleeve, still reluctant to join the crowd of kids who will be in his fifth-grade class. His teacher, Mrs. Conway, shoots me a sympathetic look. She seems nice enough—a seasoned teacher in her forties who looks like she’s skilled at keeping the class in line. She wasn’t around when I was a student at the school, but I suspect she must have started soon after.

  “He’ll be fine, Ms. Sullivan,” she assures me. “I promise I’ll keep a close eye on him.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  It doesn’t escape me that she called me Ms. Sullivan rather than Mrs. Sullivan. Does she know I’m a single parent? Does she know Josh doesn’t have a father in the picture? Does she know the whole sordid story? People do talk in towns like this, even though my parents did everything they could to conceal my pregnancy.

  And if she knows, then maybe all the other parents know. And then the kids will know. And then the name-calling will start all over again.

  No, I’m being paranoid. Josh will be fine.

  The excited buzz of children is interrupted by the shrill sound of a bell ringing through the air. The first day of school has officially begun. It takes all my self-restraint to keep from crushing Josh in an embarrassing bear hug. He’s a bit small for his age, just up to the level of my shoulder, and he still sometimes seems painfully young. Too young to face something scary like a classroom of strangers who all know each other from the last five years of school.

  “Good luck,” I whisper in his ear. “Remember—everyone likes the cool new kid.”

  Josh’s chin trembles slightly—he’s trying not to cry. When he was two, he used to unabashedly bawl his eyes out, but it’s even more painful to watch him as a big kid, struggling to hold back those tears. I plant a kiss on the top of his head and give his back a gentle push. He walks off to follow his classmates into the school like he’s being led to his execution.

  He’s going to be fine. The other children will love him, even if he was born out of wedlock. It was absolutely the right decision to move here.

  Keep telling yourself that, Brooke.

  I watch until Josh’s green backpack is no longer visible. I would love to plant myself outside his classroom so I could be available if he needs me during the day. But I couldn’t do that when he was in kindergarten, and it certainly is not acceptable now. I’m just going to trust that everything will be okay. He’ll get through this.

  “Brooke? Brooke Sullivan?”

  My jaw tightens at the sound of my name. The worst thing about moving back to the town where I grew up is that people occasionally recognize me. Thankfully, it’s a big enough town that it doesn’t happen too often, but I suppose I should expect it when I’m standing in front of the elementary school that I attended back when I was Josh’s age.

  I turn to greet the teacher who recognized me. But before I can say hello, my mouth falls open.

  “Tim?” I manage.

  It’s Tim. Tim Reese. Who lived down the block from me during my entire childhood. My best friend.

  Well, until I left town without saying a word to him about it.

  “Brooke!” His face lights up. “It’s really you!”

  As Tim sprints across the grass surrounding the school, I get a better look at him. And… well, wow. When we were little, Tim was a cute kid. Lots of freckles and a smile that made all the adults love him. And then near the end of high school, he shot up six inches practically overnight, and he became a little less cute and a little more handsome, but still too skinny and gangly. But now he’s filled in completely, gained the weight he needed and some muscle on top of that. The freckles are long gone.

  Tim Reese is hot.

  I self-consciously run a hand over my dark hair, which I pulled back into a messy ponytail before I left the house. I’m also wearing an oversized T-shirt and yoga pants. This is not what I would have liked to be wearing to run into Tim Reese for the first time in ten years. But it is what it is.

  “Hey,” he says when he gets closer to me. “This is so wild. I saw you across the lawn, and I was thinking to myself, ‘That can’t be Brooke Sullivan. I’m imagining things.’ But it’s you. It’s really you.”

  “It’s me,” I say stiffly.

  He grins. “I can see that.”

  And then we just stand there awkwardly. Well, I’m feeling awkward. Tim can’t seem to stop smiling. I don’t get what he’s so happy about, and it’s irking me.

  “So.” I scratch at my elbow. “Are you a teacher here or…?”

  He rakes a hand through his hair, which always reminded me of the color of a maple tree. “Well, actually, I’m the assistant principal.”

  “Oh!” I fix my lips into a smile. My lips feel like putty. “That’s awesome. Congratulations.”

  “Uh, thanks.” He rubs his chin, and I can’t help but notice there’s no ring on his left fourth finger. “How about you?”

  “Me? I’m a nurse practitioner.”

  His eyes light up. “You’re our new nurse?”

  “No, I’m not,” I say quickly. “I work… somewhere else.” I’m sure as hell not telling him I’ve got a job at the maximum-security prison forty-five minutes away from here.

  He frowns. “Oh.”

  It takes a second to figure out why he looks so confused. He doesn’t know why I’m here. I’m going to have to tell him.

  “I was just here dropping my son off,” I explain. “It’s his first day of school, so, you know, he’s pretty nervous.”

  “Oh!” He smiles again, but it looks slightly more forced this time. “Well, the first day of kindergarten is always scary for kids. I’m sure he’ll do great.”

  When I told him it was Josh’s first day of school, he assumed I meant he was starting kindergarten. He doesn’t realize my son is ten years old. He’s going to find out eventually, and I’m dreading it. I don’t want him to do the math.

  After all, he was there that night too. He has the scars to prove it.

  “I heard about your parents’ accident, Brooke. I’m so sorry. I was out of the country or else I would’ve come to the funeral.”

  “I’m okay,” I mumble. “We weren’t exactly close. They weren’t the best parents in the world.” I don’t mention that I hadn’t seen or spoken to my parents in five years. No need to get into the details.

  “It… it was a car accident, wasn’t it?”

  I nod. “They died together, which is ironic because I always felt like they couldn’t stand each other. My dad used to cheat on my mom all the time.”

  “Still.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “It must have been hard on you. Are you staying at their house?”

  “Yes. Easier than selling it in this market, you know?”

  “Oh, sure.” He bobs his head. “I’m staying at my parents’ old place too. They moved to Florida two years ago, so officially, I’m house-sitting. But I think at this point, I need to stop kidding myself and admit
that I live there.”

  “I always liked your old house.”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “It’s fine. It’s just big. You know, for just me.”

  As if I need another clue that he’s single. He’s making absolutely sure that I know.

  “So, um…” His eyes dart around the slowly emptying lawn around the school, which has been trampled by little footprints. “Does your husband have a job around here too?”

  “I’m not married.”

  “Really…”

  “That’s right.”

  We stare at each other for another few seconds, then Tim’s face breaks into a sheepish grin. “Pretty smooth how I found out you’re still single, huh? You impressed with those skills?”

  Despite everything, I have to laugh. Tim always knew how to make me smile. “Extremely impressive. You must be quite the player.”

  “All elementary school assistant principals are.”

  “I’d assume as much.”

  His smile widens. “Look, I have to get inside, but we really do need to catch up. Could we get coffee sometime?”

  The last thing I want is to catch up with someone from my old life—especially someone I was as close with as Tim. “I’m pretty busy.”

  “Well, coffee doesn’t take long, does it? Twenty minutes—tops.”

  This can’t lead to anything good. I don’t have any room in my life for whatever Tim wants. Plus, I have a feeling when he finds out the truth about Josh, he’s going to feel differently about me. But I want to end this conversation, so I’ve got to throw him a bone.

  “Maybe,” I finally say, “after I get settled in.”

  “Well…” His face is still glowing. God, I forgot how he used to look at me. “It was really great seeing you again, Brooke. Really great. And I’m going to hold you to that maybe.”

  There’s an extra skip in his step as he sprints back toward the elementary school. Tim Reese. Wow. I really never believed I’d see him again.