I Heard My Best Friend's Murder Plot

Harlow clung to me, sobbing over her breakup for three days straight. I grabbed a fresh pair of pajamas for her, my chest aching for my best friend.

Then, a voice detonated inside my skull. Once this clueless bitch falls asleep, I’ll unlock the front door. Let her psycho exhusband in to finish her off.

My eyes locked onto her tearstreaked, pitiful face. A violent tremor shot down my arms. Oh. You want to play?

I spun around, pulled the door shut without a sound, and dialed 911. "I need police immediately.

There's about to be a home invasion." While I was at it, I sent a message to my exhusband. The same man she framed.

The lunatic who just spent three years rotting in a prison cell for a crime he didn't commit. Tonight, nobody escapes. Chapter 1 My stomach twisted with worry.

I booked her flights, planned getaways, and moved her straight into my guest room. She said she needed a shower and asked for her pajamas.

I pushed her bedroom door open, only to hear a sharp voice echo in my head. She’s so clueless. I'm playing her like a fiddle and she’s still thanking me. Wait till she falls asleep.

I’ll open the door for that psycho ex of hers to come wreck her. My feet glued to the hardwood. A sickening tremor vibrated through my hands.

I spun around, pulled the door shut without a sound, and dialed 911. "I need police immediately. There's about to be a home invasion." And then, I sent a message to Knox.

The man she framed for domestic violence.

The man who just spent three years in hell because of her. Harlow buried her face in my shoulder, wiping snot and tears all over my brandnew silk pajamas. "Sloane, you’re all I have left.

Why would Blake do this to me?" Her body heaved with heavy sobs. She looked utterly broken. I let out a soft breath and rubbed her back. "Stop crying.

He’s a walking red flag and not worth your tears. Stay here as long as you need." "Really? I won't be a burden?" She tilted her head up.

Her swollen, puffy eyes stared at me, wet and pleading. "Don't be stupid. We’re best friends.

Who else is going to have your back?" I pushed off the couch to pour her a glass of warm water, mentally planning a trip to Cabo to get her mind off things.

The second I turned my back, a sharp, venomous voice spiked through my brain. Stay as long as I need? Ha. I'll stay until you die at that psycho's hands. My heel slipped.

Water sloshed over the rim of the glass and hit the floor. Who the hell said that? I whipped around. The living room was empty. Just Harlow sitting on the sofa.

She sniffled, pulling a tissue from the box. Catching my stare, she instantly shifted her features back into a mask of pure vulnerability. "Sloane?

What's wrong?" I gave a tight shake of my head, blaming it on my own exhaustion. "Nothing. The water's just hot." I crossed the room and handed her the glass.

The absolute millisecond my fingers brushed her skin, the voice exploded in my skull again. Drop the saint act. Your holierthanthou vibe makes me sick.

If I didn't need to lure Knox here, I wouldn't waste my time playing pretend with you. Once that psycho cripples you, let's see you try to flaunt this massive house in my face.

Ice flooded my veins. I stared dead at Harlow. Her lips hadn't moved a fraction of an inch. She even flashed me a weak, grateful smile. "You’re so good to me, Sloane.

If Knox had been even half as considerate, I wouldn't be in this mess." The air vanished from my lungs. Knox. My exhusband.

Three years ago, Harlow provided the evidence that convicted Knox of domestic abuse and threw him behind bars. I had cried tears of genuine gratitude back then.

I thought my best friend had pulled me out of hell. But now? I was hearing her actual thoughts. God, my eyes are burning. These eye drops are vicious. Knox gets out tomorrow.

That psycho has been rotting in a cell for three years. He definitely wants Sloane dead. All I have to do is tell him Sloane forced me to fake that evidence.

He'll tear that bitch apart. A freezing numbness swallowed my fingertips. The glass in my hand shook hard against my palm. The domestic abuse case. It was all a lie.

Chapter 2 "Sloane, you're looking a little pale. Are you okay?" Harlow leaned into my space, her hand lifting to check my forehead, her face twisted in a mask of deep concern.

I flinched, stepping back before her skin could graze mine. "Just haven't slept much lately.

I need to splash some water on my face." I stumbled into the bathroom, the heavy wooden door clicking shut as I threw the deadbolt.

My reflection stared back at me—a ghost with hollow, terrified eyes. Harlow knocked lightly on the wood, her voice dripping with artificial honey. "Get some rest, Sloane.

I'm going to jump in the shower. Could you grab me some pajamas in a bit?" I stared at the mirror. The raw panic in my eyes hardened into freezing ice. Sure. Of course.

I'd get her some pajamas. A set she would never, ever forget. If Harlow wanted to play games, we were going to play for keeps.

I unlocked my phone, pulling up a contact that had been buried for three long years. "Is this Knox's defense attorney?

I need to see him." Through the bathroom door, Harlow’s thoughts shrieked in my mind. Open the door, Knox. I'm dying to watch you choke the life out of her.

A cold scoff tore from my throat. I cranked the faucet. The rushing water drowned out the sound of my shattering reality. It drowned out the murderous rage boiling in my veins.

First thing the next morning, I booked Harlow a firstclass ticket to Cabo. "You can't just stay cooped up in here. Go to the beach, clear your head.

It's all on me." I forwarded the itinerary to her phone, pasting on a warm, generous smile. Harlow froze. A flash of sheer panic shortcircuited her expression. Cabo?

No fucking way! Knox gets out this afternoon. Who's going to unlock the door for him if I'm not here?

She immediately clutched her stomach, her brows snapping together in an Oscarworthy display of agony. "Sloane, I… I think I ate something bad. It's killing me.

Can we do this another day?" I sneered internally, but forced my expression into a picture of perfect sympathy. "Are you okay?

Do we need to hit the ER?" "No, no, I'll be fine if I just lie down.

Must have caught a chill last night." She waved her hands frantically, terrified I might actually drag her out of the house.

I nodded smoothly, hooking an arm under hers to help her back to the guest room. "Get some rest, then. I have a crucial meeting at the office. I need to head out." Leave.

Just leave so I can call Knox. Sloane is such a dumbass. She actually thinks I have her back. I walked out the front door, slid into my car, and left the engine dead.

Pulling up my home security feed on my phone, I watched Harlow spring off the mattress the absolute second she thought I was gone.

She ripped open my drawers, tearing through my things with practiced precision. Seconds later, her fingers curled around a spare house key. She shoved it deep into her pocket.

With this, Knox can walk right in without making a sound. I'll just say I was in the shower and didn't hear a thing. Once he finishes her off, this house is mine.

My grip crushed the steering wheel. Thick blue veins popped along the back of my hands. She didn't just want me dead. She wanted everything I owned. Harlow. My absolute best friend.

I hit dial. "Grant, I need you to pull every single piece of original evidence from Knox's domestic abuse case. Especially the videos Harlow submitted." "Sloane?

I thought you never wanted to revisit that trauma." "Do it.

I need to know exactly where those bruises came from." Chapter 3 I ended the call and slammed the gas pedal, heading straight for the penitentiary.

At three o'clock sharp, the heavy steel gates groaned open. A gaunt, hollowedout man stepped into the daylight. Knox.

Three years in a concrete box had stripped him down to raw, feral aggression. He moved like a starved wolf, coiled and ready to snap.

He flinched under the blinding afternoon sun, his dark eyes narrowing. I shoved my car door open and closed the distance between us.

Knox’s pupils contracted to pinpricks the second he registered my face. A suffocating, violent energy radiated off him. "Sloane. You actually have a death wish." He lunged.

His calloused fingers clamped around my throat, squeezing hard enough to crush my windpipe. "Three years in a cage because of you, you lying bitch!" I didn't claw at his hands.

I just stared dead into his psychotic eyes. "What if I told you Harlow faked every single piece of that evidence? Would you believe me?" Knox’s muscles locked up.

His lethal grip loosened a fraction as utter, deranged confusion crashed over his features. "What the fuck did you just say?" "She’s at my place right now.

She pocketed my spare key, and she's waiting for you to walk in and slaughter me." I slapped his heavy hand off my neck, smoothing the collar of my silk blouse. "You want the truth, Knox?

Get in the car." He glared down at me for three agonizing seconds, letting out a dark, guttural scoff before shoving his way into the passenger seat. "If you're playing me, Sloane, I'll snap your neck before the sun goes down." I slammed my foot on the gas, locking my eyes on the road. "Don't worry.

I'm not the one dying tonight." Dusk had already swallowed the neighborhood by the time we pulled into my gated community.

I led Knox straight into the vacant property next door, positioning him perfectly by a massive bay window that overlooked my entire living room. "Stay here.

Keep your mouth shut." I tossed him a tablet synced to my interior security cameras and marched back to my own front door.

The heavy, intoxicating scent of expensive Cabernet slammed into me the second I pushed the door open.

Harlow was practically dancing across the living room rug, wearing my twothousanddollar La Perla silk slip, swirling an oversized wine glass. Where the hell is Knox?

I need a frontrow seat to this bloodbath. And where is that stupid bitch Sloane? Did she drive off a cliff? The lock clicked.

In a fraction of a second, Harlow collapsed onto the edge of the sectional, curling her knees to her chest like a terrified child. "Sloane! Thank god you're back.

I've been freaking out all alone in this massive house." I kicked off my heels, sank onto the cushions beside her, and wrapped a comforting arm around her trembling shoulders. "What are you so scared of?

I've got you." Got me? You're a walking curse. I can literally smell the pathetic desperation radiating off you.

Harlow buried her face in my shoulder, her voice shaking violently. "Sloane, I swear someone is watching the house.

Do you think… do you think Knox is coming back for me?" A dark, vicious sneer clawed at my chest. She deserved an Oscar for this garbage. "Let him try!

If that psycho steps foot on my property, I’ll throw him right back in a cell." I projected my voice, making damn sure the audio picked up loud and clear for the tablet next door.

I imagined Knox staring at the screen, his jaw locking, his knuckles cracking under the sheer pressure of his own rage. "Go take a hot shower and unwind, Harlow.

I'll lay out some fresh pajamas for you." I patted her back, my tone sickeningly sweet. "Okay.

I really need to wash this day off." Harlow pushed off the couch, heading down the hallway. Knox has to be close. I need to leave the deadbolt unlocked.

I tracked her movements out of the corner of my eye.

She paused by the front door, flicking the heavy deadbolt completely open before disappearing into the master bath with a satisfied smirk.

Chapter 4 I walked to the bathroom door and rapped my knuckles against the wood. "Harlow, I left some clothes on your bed.

Grab them whenever." "Got it, Sloane!" I pivoted, marched straight into the study, and slammed the deadbolt shut. I dialed 911. "Dispatch, I'm at 18 Azure Estate.

I have an armed intruder in my house. He's in the living room right now." I ended the call.

Leaning closer to the security monitor, I stared right at Knox's live feed and mouthed two words. Your turn. Knox exploded from the vacant house like a rabid animal.

He jammed the spare key into my front door and shoved it open. He gripped a heavy steel pipe—god knows where he had found it. The muscles in his jaw violently twitched. "Harlow!

Get your ass out here!" Knox’s roar shook the crystal chandelier above the foyer. The shower cut off instantly.

Harlow bolted into the hallway, clutching a damp towel around her chest. The second her eyes locked onto Knox, a flash of sick euphoria lit up her features.

It vanished in a microsecond. Rehearsed terror swallowed her expression. A bloodcurdling scream ripped from her throat. "Oh my god! Knox! How did you get in here? Sloane!

Help me!" She shrieked, sprinting directly toward my study. A desperate, calculated move to drag the crosshairs onto me. Knox lunged.

His heavy fist twisted into her wet hair, viciously yanking her backward. "Help you? Didn't you swear Sloane forced you to fake that evidence?

Why the hell are you begging her for help now?" Harlow crashed hard onto the hardwood. The color completely drained from her face. "Knox, what are you talking about?

I don't understand—it was Sloane! Sloane made me do it!" What the fuck? How does he know? Did that bitch Sloane tell him? Whatever. I need him to kill Sloane right now.

She pointed a shaking finger at the heavy oak doors of the study, screaming hysterically. "Sloane is in there! She has all the money!

Make her pay!" I stared at the glowing monitor in the dark study. A cold, venomous smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. Harlow.

Did you really think Knox was still the same clueless idiot you gaslighted and manipulated three years ago? A sickening crack echoed through the house.

Knox’s palm slammed across Harlow’s cheek. "You lying bitch!

You're still trying to play me!" He towered over her, his chest heaving. "You stole Sloane's jewelry to pay off your gambling debts. You framed me so you wouldn't take the fall.

You think I didn't figure that out?" Three years in a concrete box gave a man plenty of time to put the pieces together