Although it was barely past noon, Sam was already pouring beers. After filling two glasses with Coors, she set them in front of the patron.
"Keep the tab open or close it now?" she said as she he handed her his card.
"Open," the older gentleman said, taking the glasses. "I'll be back for two more in a bit."
"No problem. Enjoy."
Sam sighed and turned to where Danny sat at the bar in front of her, an Arnold Palmer untouched on the coaster. She leaned on the bar and raised a brow. "Are you still mad?"
"You shouldn't be here," he said, stirring the ice cubes in the glass with his straw.
"I tried to call off, but nobody else would take my shift. Besides, I'm only here until nine."
"It's bullshit," Danny grumbled. "Someone is trying to kill you, and we don't even know who it is." He nodded at her. "How is your leg?"
Sam shrugged. "Fine."
"Baby, you're always fine. How is it really?"
Sam squirmed a little and rolled her shoulders. "Sore, but not bad. I've had worse." She took a sip of Danny's drink since he hadn't touched it. "At least here I'm in a public place."
Danny stared at her, head tilted. "In a place that almost exclusively holds the drunk and soon-to-be drunk."
Sam caressed his hand. "Danny, I know, but I can't exactly say that Ghostface is trying to kill me. None of my coworkers seem to know anything about Ghostface or the Woodsboro massacres."
"They're probably lying."
Sam gave him a flat stare. "Thanks."
He sighed. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean it like that. I just find it hard to believe since your name was all over the news last year that no one would know who you are or eventually find out."
"Well, I'd rather them lie to me than stare at me like I'm going to slice their throats instead of some oranges." Sam occupied herself with just such a task. She finished an orange and then moved on to a two lemons and some limes, wedging them for the rims of glasses. "I'm tired of it all. Maybe Gale was right. Maybe I should take my own advise and leave."
"Tara would never forgive you if you made her leave school."
Sam took a breath and then looked at Danny, placing the knife down. "So I go without her."
"Could you do that?"
"Yes. Maybe." Sam sighed and hung her head. "No, probably not. She's my sister. It's taken every ounce of trust and self-control in me just to let her go out that apartment door each day and go to Blackmore." She glanced up at Danny who watched her intently. "I trust her. I don't trust other people."
Danny took both of Sam's hands and squeezed them. "I understand, Sam. I do. If I had some psycho after my older sister, I'd feel the same way. It's also how I feel about you. I want to end anyone that touches you." He shot her that one-sided grin. "But I have to remember that you're a badass woman who doesn't always need my help or protection. So while you're willing to protect Tara, she also has to be willing to accept it."
Sam made a face. "I hate that you're right."
Danny's grin widened. "It happens once in a while."
"I know I told Tara that I can't keep running when I think there's danger, but that was before there was actually a threat. At this point, maybe leaving would draw Ghostface away."
"Or maybe it would just leave Tara, Chad, and Mindy vulnerable."
Sam closed her eyes to stop the tears. "Will this ever end? Will I have a target on my back—on my family's back—for the rest of my life? Is Tara fucked no matter what just because of who my father is?"
Danny took her hand in his and stared into her eyes. "You are not your father, Samantha."
She shook her head. "You don't know that. You didn't see what I did last year. What I did to Quinn and Bailey. What I did to Richie."
"You are not him. Not if you choose not to be. You don't become him unless you choose to go down that path." Danny stroked a thumb along the back of her hand. "Already you're different than him from the choices you've made. You killed because you had to. You saved your sister and your friends. You saved people, Samantha. You hear me?"
"But I killed—hold on." Sam smiled as an older woman came up to the bar. "Hi, what can I get you?"
The woman's gaze flitted from the door of the bar and back to Sam.
"Are you waiting for someone?" Sam asked, already prepping a glass.
The woman shook her head. "If I tell you some ingredients, are you able to make a drink for me?"
"Of course. As long as I have the ingredients, I can make anything you'd like," Sam said.
The woman nodded. "Vanilla vodka, coffee liqueur, crème de cacao, and chilled espresso."
Sam looked under the bar at the liqueurs they carried and picked up a bottle. "Is that usually made with Kahlua?"
The woman looked to the door again and then nodded. "Sure."
Sam tilted her head but continued. "Okay. I can get that started for you." When she turned, she shot a look at Danny.
"There you go," Sam said, sliding the drink across the bar. "I did three ounces of the vanilla vodka with one ounce of each of the others, so if it's not to your liking, I can remake it."
The woman handed her a ten dollar bill, glanced over her shoulder, and then left.
"Uh, ma'am?" Sam called after her, "your drink—" She looked at Danny. "What the hell was that?"
Danny opened his mouth, but Sam's phone rang. "Don't answer that."
But Sam had already pulled her phone from her back pocket. "What the fuck do you want?"
"Do you like the little gift I gave you last night, Samantha?"
She glanced down at her leg but pushed the burning out of her mind. "What do you want?"
"I want you to suffer." He paused, and when he spoke next, his voice held a hint of a smile. "Do you know the name of the drink you just made for that woman?" Sam picked up the cocktail, her mind already racing to put the pieces together. "It's called the Undertaker."
Sam's gaze shot up to Danny's.
"Fitting, since you'll soon be making arrangements for Tara's funeral once I gut her."
Her heart pounded and her adrenaline spiked. "If you touch her, that will be the last thing you ever fucking do."
"It's too bad you're blocks away at Chapel Bar and I'm already at the apartment."
No. There was no way he knew where they lived. They'd been so careful. Sam nodded at Danny, already reaching for her jacket. "We have to go. Right now."
"You don't know what loss is, Samantha," Ghostface continued. "But you will. You will lose everyone you love before the day is out. Then you'll know how it feels."
Sam and Danny were out of Chapel and sprinting down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians as they went by in a blur.
As they ran, Sam called Tara, and thankfully, she answered.
"Hey, Sam. What's up?"
"You're not safe!" she yelled as Danny pulled her out of the way of a dog leash. "Tara, do not leave the apartment! Do not leave!"
…
Tara hoisted the laundry basket higher onto her hip as Mindy opened the door to the second floor.
Mindy grinned. "After you, madam."
"Thank you," Tara replied, lifting her chin in a grin.
"Oh my God," Mindy sighed at her phone. "Chad is already yelling at us to get back."
"We're like two steps from the door."
"Well, then you can tell your boyfriend to lay off."
"He's your brother."
Mindy rolled her eyes and waved a hand. "Whatever."
To their left, a woman burst through the door, causing Tara and Mindy to jump.
"Mrs. Carmen," Tara said. "How are you?"
Mrs. Carmen looked up as she fumbled with her keys. "Oh, just fine, Tara. Running late."
"Is the office open on Saturday?"
"No, it's not," she said as she locked her door and struggled with a stack of papers and her briefcase, "but I'm behind on the project I'm working on, and I meant to be there half an hour ago to get started."
"Oh, well, we don't mean to keep you," Tara said. "Good luck."
"Thank you, hun," Mrs. Carmen nodded and hurried away, loose papers in hand.
With a flourish of energy, Mindy entered their apartment and yelled, "We're back, overbearing butthead!"
Chad stuck his head out from around the kitchen corner, spatula in hand, and glared at his sister. "My apologies for loving you."
"Lies."
"Oh, really dingus?"
He lunged for her, but Mindy dodged him, shrieking, "Get away!"
Chad waved the egg-splattered spatula over his head and chased her around the living room couch. "Accept my love, Mindy!"
"No!" A crash sounded followed by a loud, "Shit!"
Chad's voice sobered, though it sounded like he was trying to hold in a laugh. "I'm sorry."
Mindy pulled herself from the floor and punched Chad in the arm.
"I love you, mean it," Chad shrugged, brows raised.
"I hate you," she glared, but in a moment, her gaze softened and she mumbled, "Kind of mean it."
Chad attempted to give her a hug, but she shoved his face away and went to set the table for a late brunch.
Tara crossed the living room to begin folding the laundry, and from the coffee table, she had a clear view of Chad who had returned to his station manning eggs cooking on the stove top.
Although she started folding a pair of Sam's jeans, she got distracted studying him. She studied the way he stood, the tattoos on his arms, and the way he always wore t-shirts now to hide the scars littering his torso. She thought he had died. Had mourned him in the midst of her terror fighting for her own life.
"I won't disappear if you stop looking at me," Chad said with a smirk.
Tara shook her head. "Sorry." She abandoned the pile of clean laundry and sauntered into the kitchen.
"What's on your mind?" he said, pausing his steady stir of the scramble in the pan.
She took a breath, swallowing her fear and past memories. "I'm really glad you're here."
"Of course. I wouldn't be anywhere else."
"No, I mean here. With me." She closed the gap between them and took his hands. "Alive."
Chad shrugged. "I know. My plot armor is crazy."
Tara smacked him. "Stop it."
"Sorry." He glanced sidelong at her, his smile fading a bit. "I honestly don't know how I'm alive. At the hospital, the nurses said I had been stabbed fourteen times."
Tara's hand shifted to her sternum where Ethan had stabbed her after Sam dropped her from the balcony. Not to mention the other scars littering her torso from Amber. She turned her head. She had thought they were friends. Had thought they were becoming more than that, but—
Chad took Tara's hand, drawing her from her thoughts. "I was fine dying if that meant you would escape. That's all I could think about—Sam dragging you away from the danger and somewhere safer."
Tara touched his cheek, her thumb grazing over the scar on his chin. "I watched you die," she whispered. "We'd just kissed for the first time, and all I could think about was the fact that I wouldn't ever be able to do any more firsts with you. I'd watched you die—brutally—and it was over in seconds."
Chad wrapped his arms around Tara and pulled her close. "The last thing I remember is me telling you to run. I hoped you did."
"We did. And then we made the Bailey's sorry they ever fucked with us."
Chad peered down at Tara, lifting her chin up. "I won't leave you. No matter what, I'm staying by your side. Where you go, I go. We're coming out of this together."
Tara smiled softly and pushed up to kiss him. He cupped her neck, pulling her closer.
A dish towel hit Tara in the face.
"I'm sick of it," Mindy mumbled as she walked by.
Tara relinquished a hand from Chad's chest to flip her off.
A knock at the door interrupted Chad and Tara's kiss. "Don't answer that!" he yelled and then kissed her again.
"I'll look through the peep hole, Chad," Mindy huffed. "Anything to keep me from gagging watching you two make out."
….
Mindy opened the door and gaped at the figure before her. "Sloane?"
Sloane, dark hair pulled into a half-up bun, smiled. "Hi, Mindy."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Sloane tilted her head. "What do you mean? I texted you."
"No, you didn't. I never even gave you my number."
"Yeah, I know. I gave you mine." Sloane stuck her hands in her back pockets, leather jacket shifting to reveal more of her boygenius shirt.
"Really?" Mindy pulled her phone out and searched her contacts. She sucked her lips between her teeth at the name she'd put for Sloane: Fucking Cool Chick from OKB. She looked up and exhaled an embarrassed chuckle. "Yeah, you sure did." She shook her head. "But that's besides the point. What are you doing here? How did you know I'd be here? I don't even live here."
Sloane put a hand up. "Wait, if you don't remember me giving you my number, then how did you text me?"
"I texted you?"
Sloane nodded and handed Mindy her phone. "Yeah. I have to admit, I was pretty excited to hear from you." She grinned and her smile nearly made Mindy go weak.
Then Mindy actually read the texts between "her" and Sloane. She'd said how cool it was to hang with her at the party and wanted to know if she wanted to meet up for coffee or something.
Saturday at my place? the text read.
That would be great!
21 E 22nd St, apartment 212. How about around one o'clock?
I'll be there!
Mindy shook her head and said, "Sloane, I never sent these."
Sloane's face fell. "What?"
"No, no, that's—I'm glad you're here, but I didn't send these. I wouldn't have sent you this address. I live on campus at Blackmore. This is—" Mindy stopped mid-sentence, realization hitting her.
From the kitchen, Tara's phone rang and she said, "Hey, Sam. What's up?"
Mindy couldn't hear whatever Sam said, but Tara's eyes widened, fear filling them. She took two steps toward Mindy and yelled, "Get in here right now!"
Mindy reached for Sloane's shoulders to pull her inside, but a blur of black appeared from the side of the threshold, and in that split second, Sloane screamed, a knife slicing across her side.
She yanked Sloane through the door and kicked at Ghostface, but the blade made contact with Mindy's thigh, slicing across the muscle. "Shit," she gasped, pushing Sloane back. "Stay behind me!"
"Mindy, get inside!" Chad yelled, running toward her, bat in hand.
Mindy fought to get the door closed, but Ghostface was quick. He put his body between the door and tried to stab at Mindy around the edge of it.
Chad came around and jabbed Ghostface in the middle of his mask with the bat's end which snapped his head back and caused him to stumble. With Ghostface off balance, Chad kicked the door back at him, sending him flying back out into the hall.
He slammed the door shut and whipped around, pointing at the window with the bat. "Fire escape! Go!"
Mindy picked Sloane up, whose hand was around her blood-soaked waist. She took the older girl by the shoulders and guided her to the window on the other side of the apartment, limping from the gash in her leg. "Come on, Sloane," Mindy groaned. "You go first."
Sloane winced but looked sidelong at Mindy. "What about you?"
"I'll be right behind you," she said, "but you go first." She opened up the window and helped Sloane out onto the fire escape. "Chad!" she yelled over her shoulder. "Let's go!"
Chad took Tara by the hand and pulled her along. He pushed her ahead of him and she climbed out the window first. Tara had only started going down the stairs when a crack got all four's attention.
Ghostface stood in the threshold of the apartment, bloodies knife in hand, and the door handle splintered. He tilted his head and stalked toward them.
"Oh, fuck," Chad muttered.