Page 44 of The Mist of Stars
“I’m not a murderer,” I insist defensively. “I could never do that.”
“Hey, we know,” Alex assures me in a gentler tone than I thought he was capable. He has his body angled toward me and places a hand on my arm. “Someone is trying to set you up. That’s why Laylen and I took the note and cleaned up the mess.”
My eyes go huge. “You got rid of the body?”
Alex swiftly shakes his head. “No, but we took the note. Now we need to get a hold of the security footage so we can not only see who was there but also erase that Laylen and I ever were.”
“Okay.” I release a shaky breath, way too anxious to be bothered by Alex’s hand on my arm. “If we can get a hold of that, then we can find out who killed him … How do you know he was murdered, though?”
“How else would he get stabbed in the chest?” Alex questions with a cock of his brow.
“Right.” I shake my head at myself. “My brain’s just spinning as to why someone would try to frame me.”
A crease etches between Alex’s brows. “I feel like this is all connected—the visions, the death walkers.”
“And what’s in your father’s basement,” I say as an afterthought.
Alex tilts his head to the side. “Wait—what?”
Aislin gapes at Alex. “You don’t know about his machine?”
Alex shakes his head as his gaze flits between Aislin and me. Laylen shares the puzzlement, looking at Aislin for an explanation. Her mouth opens, but then her lips clamp together as the waitress arrives with our food.
She sets the tray down on the table. “Here’s your food.” She smiles at us then fixes an extra dazzling smile on Alex.
Alex can be a flirt, but right now, he looks so over it. “Can we get this to go?”
The sparkle in her eyes dims a drop, and I feel kind of bad for her. But I’m also involved in a murder, so I have bigger things to worry about than Alex being a dick.
“Sure. I’ll get some boxes.” She’s flustered as she heads back to the register area.
“You could’ve at least smiled at her,” I mutter with a heavy sigh.
“Why?” Alex wonders. “I don’t need to string her along just because I think being polite is nicer than being honest.”
I give him a blank stare. “I don’t even think you know how to be nice.”
“Really?” He angles toward me and brings his leg onto the booth. “Because I’m pretty sure I was extra nice to you.”
I snort a humorless laugh. “Why? Because you kissed me? Yeah, that was so nice of you. Gag me, bro.”
“What? That’s not what I meant.” He tries to recover, but I don’t allow him the opportunity.
I refuse to meet his gaze as the waitress walks back to our table. “There’s our waitress with the boxes.”
She places the boxes down on the table.
“Thanks.” I grab a box and begin piling my fries in it.
“Yeah, thanks,” Alex echoes me in an attempt to be polite.
She plasters on a smile, but it’s more zirconium than diamonds, then she spins around and leaves, winding around tables and booths.
Alex blows out an exasperated sigh. “Look,” he says to me as he shoves the sleeves of his shirt up, “I didn’t mean to be a jerk to her. My head’s just stuck on other things, and sometimes, if I don’t focus, I turn into an asshole.”
Deep down, I’m aware I should give him a break, but I keep replaying what he said about our kiss. So, I shrug.
“Whatever.” I stuff my burger into the box then fold the lid close.