Fooling someone online really was too easy.
A fake name, a fake picture, and lots of compliments: he could have gotten anyone to talk.
Dexter understood that the people at Rabbit in Red weren’t typically the coolest. They spent their days with noses in books or eyes on movies. Not really with a whole lot of other people.
You deserve better, he commented on someone’s Instagram post.
Before long, he had made a friend.
And that friend was inside Rabbit in Red and told Dexter everything he wanted to know.
He knew something was odd about Ricky, but he didn’t say that. That’s their mystery to solve.
Once people started dying, it all got very interesting very fast. Dexter would stare at his phone at night when he couldn’t sleep, hoping and waiting for such a text. How great would it be if he received a text that read, OMG, Bill’s head got cut off. Or, U won’t believe it—Jaime hung herself.
Dexter snorted. That would have been great.
But today—on this cold winter’s day in Seattle—Dexter felt happier than he had in over a year.
He replied to the text. What happened?
Then he waited. He hated waiting, but he had gotten so good at it.
We’re outside. RiR is on fire. Literally.
Dexter texted back: Is everyone okay? He bit his lower lip and hoped for the worst possible answer.
I don’t know.
He inhaled deeply through his nose. He needed to know if any of those assholes were suffering. First, I better play the game, he thought.
Are you okay?
Not hurt but my brain’s a mess. This is crazy.
Good, the bitch was okay. He still needed to know more.
Can I see? Call and put me on FaceTime. He’d love to see what was going on and see Rabbit in Red turn into ashes.
K.
Dexter sighed. He hated the fuckin’ K. Lazy.
Seconds later the phone rang. He answered, and the camera on the other ended pointed directly at the studios.
“See?”
“Jesus,” Dexter replied.
Through the phone, Dexter saw the old Rabbit in Red studios—a place the size of maybe ten city blocks—crumble with flames and smoke. He had to force back a laugh. That’s what JB deserves. Let his dreams burn to the ground. Let all their dreams burn to the ground!
“Rose! Rose is inside!” That was Wes’s voice Dexter heard. It made his smile grow.
There was commotion and panic. His little spy did a good job keeping the camera on all of those fucking rabbiteers.
A few moments later everyone drew their attention to someone walking up to the group. She came from the outside, not the inside. And where have you been, Jaime?
Then Dexter heard Bill ask, “Blood? Jaime, what happened?”
“It’s not my blood,” Jaime said back. This caused more of a commotion, and Dexter tried to focus on what he could see. It looked like Jaime had blood all over her body. But it wasn’t hers? That’s too bad, Dexter thought. Whose was it?
“I did what I had to do,” he heard Jaime say. “We’re safe now. Finally.”
“I have to go,” Dexter’s friend said.
“Wait. Who else is missing?”
“Looks like Rose and JB got trapped inside. Oh God, you think they’re dead?”
Dexter forced back his grin and shrugged. “Text me as soon as you know more.” His friend nodded and disconnected.
Leaning back on his computer chair, Dexter laughed out loud. He couldn’t stop it. The laughs morphed into a roar. His entire body convulsed.
“We’re safe now. Finally,” Jaime had said.
This made Dexter laugh even more.
The dumb bitch had no idea what was about to happen. All of the events today . . . fucking icing on the cake. Rabbit in Red burned to the ground. Looks like one of their good friends and the wizard behind the curtain are dead and out of the picture. Hell, it looked like Jaime must have gotten rid of Ricky—er, Sid—and in quite an interesting manner. He sure wished he could have seen that fight.
“As for you, Dexter, you and I will have a conversation in private.”
Dexter thought once again about his final conversation with JB.
Tears were now rolling down Dexter’s cheeks, and they sure weren’t tears of sorrow. He was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Oh, if only Jaime knew what JB had told Dexter back at Rabbit in Red.
“You’re not safe,” Dexter said out loud. “Not by a long shot.”
Dexter stood up and walked to his closet. He bent over, grabbed a duffel bag, and started to pack. Then he looked into the mirror. He had let his hair grow out a bit. It was dark like his eyes. He rubbed his chest. His muscles had grown, bigger than Daniel’s ever were, he thought. It made him smile.
It was time to pay a visit to his old friends. Maybe he’d get lucky and catch a funeral or two on the way.
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