Vigilante

  I was going to do all I could to make sure I stayed infection free.

  “Give me the knife,” Chris said, holding out his hand. “I know you have it.” There were traces of powder on his fingers from the latex gloves he’d worn when he stitched me up.

  I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out the knife. I handed it over like a kid being caught with stolen candy.

  “I’ll dispose of it,” he said, and I believed him.

  He gave me a T-shirt to wear home. It was just a plain black one, but it looked new. “Keep it,” he said. “Think of it as a souvenir.” Then he handed me a plastic bag with my coat, shirt and mask in it. I thanked him.

  “You be careful.” And then he hugged me, wrapping his muscular arms around my shoulders, so as not to hurt me.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Gabe told him. They shook hands. I patted the dog on her silky head. Her tail whacked hard against the floor.

  “He was nice,” I said in the car on the way back to Gabe’s. I’d told my mom I didn’t know what time I would be home, and that I might stay at a friend’s house, so she wouldn’t worry.

  “Chris is a good guy. How you feeling?”

  “Sore. Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “I was so fucking scared.”

  “I know.”

  “No, you don’t.” He glanced at me. “You really don’t.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. My cell phone chirped. I had a new text. It was from Zoe. Where are you? Cops are here. Adam got jumped.

  I remembered how the blade had felt cutting through his forehead and my stomach churned. I was going to have to live with that for the rest of my life. Maybe someday I would be able to think of it without wanting to throw up, or being horrified.

  I loved Zoe for pretending that I wouldn’t know. I texted her back that I was with Gabe and we had snuck off for a little time alone. I apologized and told her I would call her later. At least I would have something of an alibi if the cops questioned me. I would be more surprised if they didn’t. I mean, really. I was the obvious choice. I should have been smarter. I should’ve planned things better.

  All I could do now was hope they didn’t catch me before I got to Drew. Because despite all I’d been through that evening, and despite what I’d done, if I didn’t make him pay, then none of it mattered.

  CHAPTER 19

  Gabriel washed my clothes as soon as we got back to his place. My shirt was ruined, my jeans blood- and dirt-stained. He didn’t seem so mad at me now that we knew I wasn’t seriously injured.

  “The cops are going to question you,” he told me, as he closed the lid of the washing machine. “You know that, right?”

  I nodded. I was wearing Chris’s T-shirt and a pair of Gabe’s sweatpants. “I know. They’d be stupid not to. I’m the most logical suspect.”

  “What are you going to tell them?”

  I shrugged. “If I have to, I’ll tell them the truth.”

  “You’ll go to jail.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “You think I’m okay with that? Do you think my sister would be okay with that?”

  I froze. I’d been wrong—he was still plenty angry. “Probably not. Then again, I wasn’t okay with her killing herself. Neither were you. That didn’t stop her.”

  His fingers curled into fists. “What Magda did had nothing to do with us. You’re the one who made it all about you, blaming yourself for something you couldn’t have known would happen.”

  “Of course it was all about us!” My voice shook with anger. “We’re the ones she fucking left behind! I’m the one she said she yelled for but never came.”

  One of Gabe’s eyebrows rose. “She what?”

  My shoulders slumped as I sighed. I ran a hand through the tangle of my hair. I’d never get the knots out. “She yelled for me, called out my name. A couple of people said they heard it. I didn’t, because I was off having spiteful sex, leaving my best friend to be gang-raped.”

  “Did you tell them to rape her?”

  I scowled. “Don’t be stupid. Of course not.”

  “Did you tell the people who did hear her not to help her?”

  “No.”

  “Then how in the fuck was it your fault?” He threw his hands in the air in frustration. “Jesus, Hadley, you keep making this about you! You weren’t there. You said something stupid. You should have done more. You get to carry around the most guilt, is that it? You want to be the poor, tragic best friend who let Magda down? How about being her older brother who couldn’t even avenge her honor? I had to see her fade away, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do because those bastards had restraining orders against me.” His dark eyes glittered with anger. “My mother still cries at night because she feels like she let Magda down. She thinks she must have done something wrong. You’re not the only person hurt by Magda’s death, but don’t pretend this whole revenge thing is for her. It’s for you, and we both know it. Magda doesn’t care anymore.”

  His words hit like punches right to my sternum. “You’re right. It is for me—because I couldn’t stand by any longer and watch the four of them get to live while she’s in a box in the ground.” I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to tell him that if he’d been a better brother, or more of a man, he would have avenged her instead of me, but my mouth refused to say the words—mostly because I knew they weren’t true. I only wanted him to hurt as much as I did, but looking at him, I began to realize that my pain was a dull shadow of his.

  “I couldn’t—” My breath caught. I forced myself to look him in the eye. “I was beginning to think I died with her. I haven’t felt anything since she killed herself. And then, I took that photo of Jason and I began to feel something. And then there was you, and I felt even more.”

  He came to me just as a tear slid down my cheek. He wrapped his arms around me and gathered me close—careful not to put pressure on my injured side.

  “I felt the same way,” he whispered against my ear. “Until I kissed you.”

  I shivered at his words and lifted my face so he could kiss me again. Then he took me by the hand and led me upstairs. We sat on the couch in the living room, me snuggled into his side.

  “Should we check the news?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Better to be prepared.” An hour ago I’d been prepared to take whatever punishment I had coming, like jail was no big deal, but at that moment, a sharp surge of fear washed over me. I didn’t want to go to jail.

  We had to watch the last few moments of Jaws, which was on right before the late news. When the anchorwoman’s face came on, with footage of police lights in the dark behind her, I knew I was the night’s headline.

  “A brutal attack at a party held by local teens. Police say the Pink Vigilante has struck again, and this time she’s gone too far. That’s tonight’s top story. But first...”

  “Too far?” Gabe turned to me with a worried gaze. “What’s ‘too far’?”

  “After Adam stabbed me, I may have knocked him out and used the knife on him.”

  His eyes closed. I could almost see him struggle to remain calm. “Yeah, you said you cut him. What did you do?”

  “I carved a V into his forehead.”

  Gabe made a choking sound. For a moment I thought he was crying, but then he threw his head back, laughing so loud and so hard, I thought he might wake the neighbors.

  “It’s not funny,” I insisted. “I want to puke every time I think about it.”

  Gabe shook his head. “I was afraid you’d cut something off, or maimed him for life.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t even thought of that, but I could understand why he would go there. Cutting Adam’s dick off would be the kind of thing a guy would think of. “No. I couldn’t do t
hat.”

  He was serious again. “No, and I’m glad. He’ll probably have surgery tomorrow, if his father knows a good plastic surgeon.”

  “Have you seen Mrs. Weeks?” I asked dryly. “He knows a good plastic surgeon. That woman still looks like she’s twenty-nine.” Still, it didn’t excuse what I’d done.

  When the news returned to the Vigilante story, we stopped talking and watched. On the screen, we saw Adam led through the red and blue illuminated night by two police officers. Blood trickled down his face from beneath the cloth he held to his forehead. Shit. Was no one going to see it?

  “The young man claims to have been attacked by a young woman in a pink ski mask, who rendered him unconscious before cutting the letter V into his forehead. He says he thinks he might have stabbed her, but police haven’t found a knife, or any evidence that there was even another person with the young man.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, he carved himself up with his fingernails.” Gabe squeezed my shoulders.

  The news cut to two girls—Megan and Holly from self-defense class. The reporter asked them what they thought of what had happened. My mouth fell open when the two of them suddenly yanked pink ski masks over their heads and yelled, “Rapists are gonna get pinked!”

  “Jesus Christ,” Gabe whispered. “You’ve got fans.”

  Drew’s face appeared on screen next. He was flushed, his eyes wild. “The bleeping pink bitch is going to pay for this. She’s going to get what’s coming to her.”

  “His father won’t be impressed that he swore on TV,” I muttered.

  “He just threatened you, and you’re worried about what his father is going to do to him? You should be more worried about yourself—and not just where the Carsons are concerned.”

  “I know.” I also remembered some of the things Mr. Carson said to Mrs. Torres when Magda tried to press charges. He was a disgusting excuse for a human being. I wasn’t afraid of him, though. But I was afraid for my mother. Two more faces came on the screen. It was Zoe and Paul. The reporter asked them what they thought of the recent vigilante attacks.

  “The Vigilante isn’t attacking anyone who doesn’t deserve it,” Zoe argued. “She’s out there, risking her own safety to protect other girls. Tonight is just another example of her trying to get justice where the system failed.”

  “Not all guys are rapists,” Paul said into the microphone. “But those of us who aren’t need to step up and start doing something about the guys who are out there taking advantage of girls. It’s not cool. I think the Vigilante is stupid brave, and the next time I see something going down, I’m going to stop it.”

  The reporter faced the camera now. “There you have it, Joan. Is the Pink Vigilante a menace, or is she only making up for a flawed justice system? While many people believe the former, it seems even more believe the latter. Back to you.”

  The visual cut once more to the anchor desk. “Thank you, Kimberley. I’ve just been told that there have been three more Vigilante-style attacks since police broke up that party. Two girls in pink ski masks confronted a man who swore at his girlfriend and demeaned her outside a restaurant. The man sustained minor injuries. Another girl, also in a mask, was seen helping a very drunk young woman into a cab after a stranger tried to force her to leave a club with him. The man got a bloody nose and some bruised private parts, and was restrained at the scene until the police showed up. By then, the pink-masked culprit had made her escape. And finally, a man who violated a restraining order set against him by his ex-fiancée was knocked unconscious by at least three young women who left him tied up on his former fiancée’s lawn, with a large V on his forehead, written in pink lipstick—a much more temporary punishment than what we heard about earlier. Police chief Warren Keith issued a statement urging women not to take the law into their own hands and to call the police if they witness an altercation, or see someone in danger, but Colleen Madison, the woman whose estranged fiancé broke the restraining order, had something to say about that.”

  A pretty young woman with brown hair and glasses appeared. Obviously, they’d caught up with her at her house. She looked pale, but otherwise unhurt. “This is the second time he’s violated the order. Last time the police told me they’d take care of it. They told me he wouldn’t be back. Well, he came back, and the police didn’t show up until after those girls subdued him. If they hadn’t come along, he probably would have killed me before the police got here. I don’t know who those girls were, but I want to thank them for saving my life, and possibly the life of my little boy. What does Chief Keith have to say about that?”

  Back to the anchor. “We asked the chief that same question by phone just a few minutes ago. He said what happened to Miss Madison is unfortunate, and promised that this time her fiancé will be jailed for violating the order. How nice of those girls to restrain the man so the police didn’t have to go looking for him. Tonight, women across town are putting their faith not in the boys in blue to keep them safe, but rather the girls in pink.”

  Gabe and I turned our heads to stare at each other. He looked as stunned as I felt. “My God,” I said. “What the hell have I started?”

  The Girls in Pink

  It was amazing and stupid at the same time. I mean, it was awesome that we girls were thought of as a cohesive unit, but why did they have to call us anything? And even though I had chosen the pink ski mask for myself, calling us the girls in pink seemed to somehow negate what it was all about.

  What had I started? Whatever it was, it wasn’t just mine anymore. Getting a little payback on Jason had been a lucky accident, but after that each incident had been premeditated. Cutting that V in Adam’s forehead had been too much. I’d lost myself in that moment. It didn’t matter that he could probably have it fixed. What mattered was that I had done that to him.

  I was no better than he was.

  Part of me wanted to walk away from it—what if Adam’s knife had punctured something vital? He could’ve killed me, and here I was wondering how I was going to get at Drew. What was I doing? What would Magda say if she could see me? She would probably tell me to stop taking chances, and to stop putting myself at risk.

  Like I kept saying, though, Magda was dead. So what did I care what she would want?

  Here was the thing; I felt better on some level. I’d marked her attackers publicly. Even if they were still walking around free, I’d changed public perception of them. What pissed me off was that there were people who saw them as victims—who saw all of these men who were getting their asses kicked by girls across town as victims. That wasn’t right. Maybe what I was doing was wrong, but I’d stopped some women from getting hurt, and so had my friends in pink. That had to be worth something.

  It was just after noon when Zoe arrived at my house with Anna and Caitlin the next day. They hadn’t called first, or even texted, so opening the door and seeing the three of them was a complete surprise.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Zoe smiled. “Can we come in?”

  I stepped back to let them enter. They followed me into the kitchen. I introduce them to Mom, who looked so happy at the fact that I had made new friends, before leading them upstairs to my room. I shut the door so we could talk privately.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Okay, out with it.”

  “The police are questioning everybody who was at the pit party,” Caitlin told me.

  My heart skipped a beat. I knew this was going to happen, so there was no use getting anxious over it. “Have they talked to any of you yet?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Zoe explained. “We wanted to tell you that we took the idea you suggested and ran with it.”

  The idea I’d suggested? Had no idea what the hell she was talking about. I couldn’t remember suggesting anything. “Okaaay.”

  She turned to the other two girls. “Show her.”

>   In unison the three of them lifted the hems of their shirts up to the ribs. Caitlin and Anna had bandages on their left sides, while Zoe had one on her right.

  “We passed the word around,” Anna added, dropping her shirt. “It was smart of you to think of a way to protect her if the police found her.”

  It took me a moment to realize that Anna was talking about the Vigilante. She didn’t know it was me. Zoe hadn’t told her. Part of me wondered if Anna was just naive, or if I was really that good at hiding.

  And I was beginning to wonder if Magda had sent Zoe to me.

  “So, you and a bunch of other girls have all cut yourselves?” What was I asking for? Duh, I’d just seen the bandages.

  “Yeah,” Zoe replied. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Uh...I got the idea when I saw the two girls on the news wearing pink ski masks. They can’t arrest everybody, so if a bunch of us are wounded, they won’t know who the real Vigilante is.”

  “So show us yours.” Caitlin was as eager as a twelve-year-old boy about to see his first flash of cleavage.

  I pulled up my T-shirt so they could see the bandage on my side. I looked at Zoe. She was a little pale, but her gaze was serious as it met mine.

  “It’s Detective Davies doing the questioning,” she told me. That was something I could’ve stood to hear up front. Although, I have to admit that I wasn’t terribly surprised. What did surprise me was the fact that no one seemed to have blamed her yet. She was the one teaching us how to beat the crap out of somebody. Was she disappointed in us? Or was she secretly impressed?

  “She hasn’t come by to see me yet.”

  “She probably will,” Anna said. “We told her you had already left by the time Adam got hurt.”

  “Yeah,” Caitlin added. “We didn’t tell her about Gabe being with you. We didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

  Didn’t want to get me in trouble. She was the sweetest girl. If she had any idea of the trouble I’d been chasing, she’d probably lose her shit. Then again, she had cut herself to protect me, even if she didn’t know it was me she was protecting.