Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

Chapter 72: Hunter Biden’s Laptop

[Jason’s POV]

The final bell rings and the hallways erupt into chaos. Backpacks thump against lockers, sneakers squeak on linoleum, and a buzz of chatter fills the air. But today, there’s an undercurrent of tension that makes my skin prickle.

“Did you hear about Riley?” Justine whispers, falling into step beside me. Her eyes are wide, worry etched across her face.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “No, what happened?”

“She’s missing,” Justine says, her voice dropping even lower. “They found her car abandoned at some creepy old Friendly’s parking lot up in New Hampshire. It’s all over social media.”

My stomach does a nauseating flip. I know exactly what happened to Riley, and it’s so much worse than anyone could imagine. The image of Erica’s fierce blue eyes flashes through my mind, and I feel a confusing mix of terror and something else.

‘Stop being horny when you think about it. It’s a bad look!’

“That’s... that’s awful,” I manage to stammer out. “I hope she’s okay.”

As we push through the crowded hallway, snippets of conversation assault my ears:

“...probably just ran away...”

“...her parents must be freaking out...”

“…what if someone kidnapped her…”

“...I bet it was that creepy ice cream woman, the one that sells the sonic heads without the gumball eyes. God, what a fucking cunt...”

If they only knew the truth. My palms start to sweat, and I wipe them on my jeans. I need to get out of here before I lose it completely.

“You alright, Jason?” Justine asks, concern lacing her voice. “You look a little pale.”

I force a weak smile. “Yeah, just... worried about Riley, I guess. And, uh, tests are coming up and all that.”

Justine nodded understanding, her brow furrowed with concern. “Yeah, I get it. This whole thing with Riley is pretty heavy.”

Just then, I feel a presence behind me, and a shiver runs down my spine. Erica’s arms snake around my waist, pulling me close against her. Her touch sends electricity coursing through my body.

“Hey there, handsome,” Erica purrs in my ear, her breath hot against my skin. “Why’d you rush out of class so fast? I barely got to see that cute face of yours.”

I turn to face her, my heart pounding. Her blue eyes sparkle with mischief, a wicked smile playing at the corners of her lips. Despite everything, I feel myself relaxing into her embrace. There’s something intoxicating about her presence, like a drug I can’t resist.

I give her a meaningful look, silently pleading not to discuss anything here. “Sorry,” I mumble, loud enough for Justine to hear. “I guess all this stuff about Riley just has me nervous.”

Justine nods. “God, I know. It really is crazy. And you know what’s even weirder? This isn’t even the first girl to go missing recently.”

My blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”

Justine’s words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Yeah, that’s right,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Anita Scoops girl went missing too. You know, the one with that weird true crime podcast?”

My mind reels, struggling to process this new information. I remember the Anita Scoops girl vaguely. She used to pester us about Lindsey’s alleged suicide a few months ago. Her eyes would light up when she’d ask about it, but I stayed far away from her.

‘I didn’t know she went missing. Did Erica kill her too?’

Suddenly, Justine’s eyes go wide, and she gasps. “Oh my god, and the one-eyed Lyra too! How could I forget?”

My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure they can hear it. Memories of Lindsey and Lyra flood back. Lindsey’s cruel smile as she held me captive, the terror I felt, the desperate act that ended her life. I push the thoughts away, focusing on keeping my face neutral.

“Wait what if Lindsey didn’t kill herself….” Justine looks around nervously, lowering her voice even further. “Do you... do you think there’s a serial killer out there?”

I feel Erica’s arms tighten around me, her nails digging slightly into my skin. The pain grounds me, keeping me from spiraling into panic. I force myself to take a deep breath, trying to steady my voice.

“I... I don’t know,” I manage to stammer out. “That’s a pretty big leap, isn’t it? I mean, people go missing all the time for all sorts of reasons.”

But even as I say the words, I don’t really know how to explain myself. Four girls, all connected to our school, all have something incredibly suspect happen to them. And I know for certain what happened to three of them. The image of Riley’s terrified face flashes through my mind, and I have to suppress a shudder.

Erica’s voice cuts through my thoughts, smooth as silk but with an edge of steel underneath. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation,” she says, her tone dismissive. “No need to jump to conclusions about serial killers. You’ve been listening to too many of those true crime podcasts, Justine.”

I glance at Erica. Her expression is unreadable, a perfect mask of casual concern.

Justine doesn’t look convinced. Her eyes dart between Erica and me, a crease of worry forming between her brows. “Maybe you’re right,” she says slowly. “But it’s still pretty freaky, don’t you think? I mean, what are the odds?”

Erica pulls me close, her arm wrapping possessively around my waist. “Justine,” she says cooly, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “you’re scaring poor Jason. You know how easily boys can be spooked.” Her fingers trace lazy circles on my hip, a gesture both comforting and possessive. “We wouldn’t want him having nightmares, now would we?”

I feel my cheeks flush, caught between embarrassment at being treated like a child and a twisted pleasure at Erica’s protective display. Justine’s frown deepens, her eyes flicking between us with poorly concealed concern.

“Oh, I... I’m sorry, Jason,” Justine stammers, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything.”

“It’s fine,” I manage, forcing a weak smile. “No harm done.”

*****

As we walk out of the school, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the parking lot, my mind races. I know for a fact that Lyra ran away, her disappearance had nothing to do with Erica.

‘I think.’

But Anita... she’s a missing variable in this equation.

I’m about to turn to Erica to ask her point-blank if she had anything to do with Anita’s disappearance when a familiar figure steps into our path. Louis, his trademark cocky grin plastered across his face, blocks our way to Erica’s car.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, eyes gleaming with mischief. “If it isn’t the school’s hottest couple. Got a minute to chat?”

I glance around, suddenly aware that we’re alone in this secluded corner of the parking lot.

I feel a rush of relief at Louis’s appearance, his familiar grin a welcome sight amidst the swirling chaos of my thoughts. His green eyes sparkle with their usual mischief, and for a moment, I can almost pretend everything is normal.

“Hey, Louis,” I manage, my voice steadier than I expected. “What’s up?”

Louis leans against a nearby car, the picture of casual cool.

‘That’s not his car, what the fuck?’

“Oh, you know,” he drawls, “just checking in on my favorite lovebirds. How’d the whole ‘sending Riley back to her old world’ thing go? Smooth sailing, I hope?”

The question hits me like a punch to the gut. Memories of that day seem to be on repeat today. The flickering candlelight, the symbols on the walls, Riley’s terrified eyes. I feel my knees go weak, and for a moment, I’m afraid I might collapse right there in the parking lot.

Guilt washes over me in waves. We lied to him. We lied to everyone. And I didn’t even know it. We all bought it. Hook, line, and sinker.

I open my mouth, ready to stammer out some half-baked assurance that everything went fine. But before I can speak, Erica’s voice cuts through the air, smooth as silk and cold as ice.

“It went flawlessly,” she says, her arm tightening possessively around my waist. “Riley’s safely back where she belongs. No muss, no fuss.”

I glance at Erica, marveling at how easily the lies fall from her lips. Her face is a mask of calm assurance, not a flicker of guilt or uncertainty in her gorgeous blue eyes. For a moment, I’m almost convinced myself.

Louis’ eyebrows shoot up, clearly impressed. “Damn,” he chuckles, “you don’t mess around. I half expected some kind of magical mishap or demon summoning gone wrong.”

Erica laughs, the sound light and carefree. “Please,” she scoffs, “I’m not some amateur witch fumbling with her first spell. I know what I’m doing.”

Louis’ shoulders visibly relax, tension draining from his body. “Man, that’s a relief,” he sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. “You wouldn’t believe how torn up Skye’s been. She’s convinced Riley’s dead or something awful.”

My stomach churns at his words, guilt gnawing at my insides. I can picture Skye, her usually vibrant face drawn and pale with worry, eyes red-rimmed from crying.

“Poor thing,” Erica coos, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “It must be so hard, thinking your best friend is dead.”

‘This is fun for her.’

Louis nods solemnly. “Yeah, it’s been rough. But hey,” he adds, brightening, “at least we know the truth, right? Riley’s safe and sound, just... elsewhere.”

‘God damn it. I thought I was getting over the guilt the other day too.’ I sigh inwardly.

He fixes us with a meaningful look. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I won’t breathe a word to anyone, especially not Skye. She’d probably think I was nuts anyway.”

I nod, relief washing over me. “Thanks, Louis. We really appreciate it.”

“You’d better not say anything,” Erica says, her tone light but with a razor-sharp edge. “Wouldn’t want you getting mixed up in all this... disappearance business, would we?”

Louis’ eyes widen slightly, a flicker of fear crossing his face before his easy grin slides back into place. “No, no, not at all,” he says quickly. “My lips are sealed, I swear.”

He lets out another relieved sigh, shaking his head in wonder. “Man, I’m just glad there was a happy ending for Riley, you know? With all the crazy shit that goes down in this town, it’s nice to know at least one story turned out okay.”

I feel my whole body shudder at his words, nausea rising in my throat. “Yeah,” I choke out, “thank God.”

Erica pulls me closer, her warmth both comforting and suffocating. “Well, we should get going,” she says brightly. “Lots of homework to do, you know how it is.”

Louis nods, pushing off the car he’d been leaning against. “Right, right. You two lovebirds have fun... studying.” He winks exaggeratedly, and I force out a weak laugh.

As we walk away, Erica’s arm is still wrapped possessively around my waist, and I can feel Louis’s eyes on us. The weight of our lies, of the horrible truth we’re hiding, settles over me like a lead blanket. But beneath it all, there’s a sick thrill of excitement, a twisted pleasure in being the only ones who know what really happened.

The moment the doors click shut, sealing us in our own little world, I turn to Erica. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to ask.

“Erica,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, “did you kill Anita Scoops?”

For a moment, the only sound is the soft purr of the engine and the distant chatter of students in the parking lot. Erica’s brow furrows in confusion, her blue eyes clouding with what looks like genuine bewilderment.

“Anita Scoops?” she repeats, her tone puzzled. “Oh, right.” She shrugs, her shoulders rising and falling in a graceful motion that momentarily distracts me. “I honestly completely forgot she existed. I’ve never spent even a second thinking about her.”

I stare at her, searching her face for any sign of deception. “Really?” I press, unable to keep the skepticism from my voice.

In one fluid motion, Erica reaches out, her slender fingers grasping my chin. She turns my face towards hers, her touch both gentle and commanding. Her eyes, those strong blue orbs that have always held me captive, lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.

For a moment, I think she’s going to kiss me, to use her sultry charms to distract me from my questions. But as she studies my face, taking in my serious expression, something in her demeanor shifts.

“Jason,” she says, her voice low and earnest, “I swear on our relationship, I had nothing to do with Anita Scoops at all. Not a single thing.”

The weight of her words hangs in the air between us. Swearing on our relationship is no small thing for us. It’s the most important thing in our lives.

I feel a sigh of relief escape me, my body sagging as tension I didn’t even realize I was holding melts away. “Okay,” I breathe, nodding slowly. “Okay, I believe you.”

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