and inject him with poison.
Blair shrugged.
Garrett shrugged back. He was going to have the last shrug if it killed him. He knew now that he had to stand up to Blair. He had a little bit of leverage with his relationship with Ramona, and he had to use it.
"I might," said Blair. "I might go to the police. I might tell them what happened. I might get you sent to jail."
Garrett was confused. He'd thought that when Blair had said what she'd said she was threatening him with...with what? What had he thought? Had he really thought she was a clone or a ghost or a monster? Maybe Blair was right. Maybe he was crazy, and he'd blocked out the events of that night. He'd replaced them with something strange and otherworldly when all that had really happened was that he'd— No. He hadn't raped Blair. He could never do anything like that. He wasn't that kind of guy.
Carrie's face flashed in front of him, her eyes full of terror. She was in the corner in their apartment in Austin. He was screaming at her. His hands were clenched in fists and...
He could never do anything like that. Could he?
"Fuck you," Garrett whispered. "Why are you screwing with me like this?"
Blair laughed. It sounded like wind chimes. "Just leave town, Garrett. Leave town, and I'll leave you alone."
"Why?" he said. "What do you care?"
"The sight of you makes me ill," she said, but she smiled when she said it.
If he actually had raped her, wouldn't she be frightened of him? And how could it have happened? How would he have done it? Why would he have...? He shook his head furiously. "I didn't rape you," he said.
"Sure of that?" teased Blair.
He wasn’t. Sickeningly enough, he wasn't entirely sure of anything anymore. He used to think of himself as an okay guy. A nice guy. A solid guy. Someone that people could depend on. Sure, he wasn't the smartest guy in the world, and he wasn't the most talented, but he wasn't an asshole. But after his relationship with Carrie, he didn't feel like such a great guy anymore. He felt like a lit fuse or a time bomb. He was always half-waiting for himself to explode and go crazy.
That was why, even though he liked Ramona, he hadn't allowed himself to wake up next to her. He liked Ramona. He liked her a lot. And she deserved a better guy than he was. He knew what would happen if they got involved. He wouldn't mean it to happen, but it would. He'd only want to keep her from getting away. Want to keep her safe. Want to be with her. But he'd get fixated on it. And he'd intend...but soon it wouldn't entirely be about safety or caring about her or anything like that. It would just be about controlling her. Because it would be too scary if something so important to his life as his relationship would be out of control. He wasn't good for Ramona. He needed to stay away from her.
And hell, maybe he could have raped Blair. Maybe if he'd gotten drunk. He'd been so angry that night about that stupid job. He'd felt like punching in a wall or bashing his boss' skull in. The anger had been like a fog. It had been hard to see through it. Maybe he wasn't sure of what he'd done. Maybe he'd made up all this stuff about monsters because he couldn’t deal with his guilty conscience. Maybe there was nothing here. No conspiracy theories, no dead girls, no ghosts.
"You aren't sure aren't you?" said Blair. "You don't remember doing it, but you think you could have. Maybe you don't remember other things, Garrett."
He shook his head dully. Everything in the library seemed to be getting dimmer and Blair's voice seemed to be getting brighter. It echoed in his head. It tore a path between his eyes and into his brain. It lodged there and reverberated throughout his bones.
"Like Angelica. You remember you met Angelica right before she died? Do you remember that?"
Garrett nodded. Angelica. Pretty hippie chick. Scared off by Owen. Then found in a shallow grave a few nights later. He remembered.
"Do you remember when you killed her?"
Garrett furrowed
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