Seven, eight ... Gonna stay up late (Rebekka Franck #4) by Willow Rose

selfish,
always so egocentric. She was probably with someone else, someone she had just
met, maybe even a guy and never thought to contact Camilla. She never cared
about her emotions, about how she felt.
    Camilla sighed deeply feeling the tears press on
from behind. Camilla loved Amalie. She loved her more than you love a friend.
She was in love with her. She had
been for many years, almost as long as Camilla could remember. Amalie of course
didn't know. The very first time Camilla kissed her at a party at a friend’s
house, she had laughed and kissed her back, whispering Great idea, let's stir things up a little, let's give
them something to talk about. Thinking Camilla had only done it
because she was bored and wanted to shock the dull rich kids at the party,
Amalie grabbed her face and kissed her passionately. Camilla enjoyed it more
than anything in her entire life and to this very day she still remembered the
way the kiss had tasted. The second time Camilla kissed her, Amalie hadn't
taken it nearly as nicely. They were at Amalie's house watching a movie in the
living room, when suddenly Camilla couldn't resist her lips any longer and had
to taste them once again.
    "What the hell?" Amalie had screamed.
    Camilla had blushed, then pulled away not
knowing what to say. Her desire to kiss her again and hold her tight, their
naked bodies pulsating against each other, was overwhelming, almost
overpowering.
    "Why did you do that?" Amalie had
asked.  "Are you a fucking dyke?"
    At that instant Camilla wanted to hit Amalie.
Knock her down for not wanting her as badly as she wanted Amalie. For not
loving her in the same way she loved her.
    "No," she said, instead insinuating
with her tone that a dyke had to be the worst thing in the world to be. "Are
you?"
    "Hell no," Amalie said while wiping
her mouth with her sleeve.
    "Just checking," Camilla had said.
    Amalie stared at her for a long time. Then her
facial expression changed. Then they both burst into laughter. Camilla had
forced it through the feeling of her heart being ripped open. Since then she
never tried to kiss Amalie again.
    While standing in the tent listening to this
infernal music, staring at the entrance like it was some sort of secret gateway
to a magic place where they kept beautiful women who mysteriously vanished,
Camilla slowly lost hope of ever seeing her beloved friend again. She tried
hard to remember that soft kiss they once shared at the party, the salty taste
of her red lips. Staring at the entrance she felt the tears beginning to run
down her cheeks when her eyes suddenly met those of someone who had just
entered the tent. He was wearing shiny shoes and expensive pants and a white
shirt. That alone made him stand out. But that wasn't what caught Camilla's eye
and made her keep staring at him. It wasn't his good looks either. It was what
he was holding in his right hand. She immediately recognized the five thousand
dollars cover with its twenty-two VVS1 diamonds, a total of three and a half
carats.
    It was Amalie's phone.

Chapter 14
    Allan loved the band. The music was intoxicating as were the lyrics to their songs, he thought
as he entered the tent and walked directly towards the stage. This was
wonderful, he thought. The perfect setting. He couldn't have chosen it better
himself.
    He marched right up to the stage and pushed
aside some drunk longhaired dancing fans, just a small push was enough to make
room for himself. He had come for Camilla, yes. But there was time enough to
enjoy the music as well, he figured. Everything in its proper time. It was
after all one of his favorite moments to it all, finding the girl and figuring
the proper way to snatch her without anyone seeing it. Just like everything
else about killing, it was an art form, really. Unfortunately not very many
like him were very good at it. It aggravated him how loosely some would take
this part of the killing. Like it wasn't of importance. They didn't understand
that if you were ever to