by Kylie Parker
“How dare you?” she snaps and goes to slap at me, but I’m not putting up with her shit right now.
I grab her wrist in mid slap, and I squeeze the shit out of it until I hear her wrist pop. “Fuck off!” I shout, but I don’t let go of her. “And you know what else? You were there! You were alone in the room with Eddie before he died! Oh my God! You poisoned him, didn’t you?”
“James, you’re hurting me!” Éclair shrieks, and she avoids responding to what I had just said.
I don’t let go of her –if anything I squeeze her wrist even tighter. “It makes sense! I don’t know what I kept denying it. You’re a damn bitch, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison for this.”
“Let go!” Éclair yanks back, and I release her wrist and shove her. She falls, landing on her side against the tile floors. I didn’t exactly mean to knock her down onto the ground, but damn it I don’t really give a shit right now.
“I could strangle you!” I shout, but just stand there staring down at her as she struggles back onto her feet.
She grips her wrist as she stands a safe distance from me, staring at me with these hurt eyes. “You’re such an asshole, James. You really think I would do all that to you? To Eddie?”
“Yeah, Éclair, I really do. You’re a conniving, manipulative bitch. You’re always doing everything you can to manipulate me. That’s why I came over here in the first place –to tell you to fuck off. To tell you that I am done with you because I want to be with Sylvia. I was going to try to part on good terms, but fuck it! I don’t care. Not anymore. I’m leaving, Éclair, and you better believe the police are going to hear all about this. I hope you rot in prison,” I go to leave, but she stops me.
“James, I swear, I have nothing to do with any of this! James, don’t go!” she has a hold of my sleeve, but I yank away. “You’re a jackass!” she roars, and I see that there are tears falling down her cheeks. “I was going to tell you I loved you too! I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
I dart out the front door, slamming it behind me and leaving her standing alone in her den. Her sister’s name is Suzette –the same name of the woman who filed the original lawsuit. It makes so much sense. Éclair has always tried to get me to sell the company. Since I wouldn’t sell, she sabotaged me. Eddie must have caught on, so she had him killed. She was alone with him at the hospital –she could have been the one to put the poison into his IV. I think I’m going to be sick. I need someone to help me process all of this before going to the police, so I head towards Sylvia’s apartment in the city.
Chapter Seventy
I head up to Sylvia’s apartment, quite eager to talk to her about what I have discovered. I don’t bother calling her because I’m fairly certain she’s home. When I knock on her apartment door and no one answers, I grab the key off of the top of the door hinge where I’ve seen her grab one before. I’ve told her she doesn’t need to keep a key there before because someone could break in, but right now I’m glad she does. I figure that I will just wait until she gets home because I know she’s not working today, so she will be here eventually.
After letting myself in, I head to the bathroom. Mother fucker… pink and silver everywhere! It’s like Éclair’s is her evil twin sometimes, I swear. Her bathroom is done up in the familiar pink and silver décor. I remind myself that Sylvia once modelled for Éclair’s company, so she probably got the design idea from being at the woman’s office headquarters a few times. Something about it irks me, so I leave the bathroom, unable to actually use it. It reminds me too much of Éclair. On the counter I spot some contact solution, and I start prying. I locate her contacts in the top drawer to the right of her sink, and I smile at the discovery. Colored contacts –I fucking knew it! She totally wears colored contacts! Those blue eyes were just too perfect. I have always said that she was just too perfect –her body had to have some sort of secret flaw I just had not found yet, so I’m now picturing Sylvia with two different colored eyes that she hides under colored contacts. Well, this is sort of fun –snooping around to learn more about my girlfriend… girlfriend, wow. Never thought I would say that word.
I’ve actually never been in Sylvia’s apartment before with the exception of a few quick drop in’s to pick her up kind of thing, so after waiting around for several minutes I start to get nosey. An idea strikes me to sneak into Sylvia’s bedroom and surprise her. I grin thinking about her coming home to me spread out on her bed. Geeze, I swear, sex is never too far from the forefront of my mind no matter what sort of emotional trauma I’m having.
I slip into her back bedroom. It’s a cozy little room –nothing too special. She has a few small weights scattered about and her laptop is sitting open up on her bed. I can’t believe we haven’t had sex back here yet. I smile and slip out of shoes and start to undo my tie. I go to jump on her bed like a dumbass and stub my toe on something. “Fuck!” I shout. That’s what I get for trying to act like a tool. I look down and see a small wooden box poking out from under her bed.
I tell myself not to snoop –that I shouldn’t go digging around through her things without her consent –but I am unable to resist the temptation. I pick up the little jewelry box, thinking that it is a weird place to put a jewelry box, and I open it up. Cute. There’s a bunch of childish things inside –old friendship bracelets, grade school drawings, and a small stack of pictures of a little blonde girl with missing teeth –a little Sylvia, cute! I smile, blushing slightly to see a picture of my girl from her childhood years. We would make cute kids… whoa, easy, big guy.
I shake the thought away and then I come across a picture of two little blonde girls with their arms over each other’s shoulders, smiling big at the camera. Both young girls’ have their eyes opened wide –their big, purple eyes. My heart jumps up into my throat. One is obviously a twelve-year-old Sylvia. The other one, and it’s quite undeniable, is a younger Éclair.
What the hell am I looking at? I rub my eyes and then stare at the picture again… colored contacts… Sylvia wears colored contacts….
My throat suddenly becomes dry. Something just tells me to look at her laptop. I click the mousepad, and I see her email is opened…. [email protected]
What. The. Fuck.
In a panic, I scramble to put the pictures back into the box and push it up underneath the bed. I frantically search for my shoes and my tie that I had thrown off, not bothering to actually put the tie back on before darting out of her bedroom. I don’t know how I missed it on my way in, but I spot her treadmill in the den area. As Sylvia had told me a thousand times before, the poster advertising my company Shattered INC. is in front of the treadmill. She had always told me that the poster was there for inspirational purposes during her workout, but there are fucking darts piercing the photograph of my chest. Holy shit! I feel like I’ve stepped into a damned war zone.
Sylvia? Sylvia is Suzette? That’s what my head is telling me at least. I got to get out of here. I dart out the door, not even thinking to lock it behind me, and I get out of her apartment building as fast as I can. I jump into my car and speed back to my penthouse to give myself a moment to process what has just happened.
I enter into my home and just take a few calming breaths. What is happening? I’m not even 100% sure, but I feel like half of the reason why I haven’t pieced it together entirely is because I’m in complete denial that Sylvia would ever do anything to hurt me. I have to call the police. I get out my cell phone to call Kathy, the police chief. The phone rings several times, but just as I hear the woman on the other line say, “Hello?” a blunt object makes contact with the back of my head.
“Sorry, wrong number,” I hear a familiar voice say into my phone and hang up.
I look up to see Sylvia staring down at me, a bloodied, wooden baseball bat rested on her shoulders as she tosses my cell phone to the side. The room is spinning. I can’t move. I just groan and stare up at Sylvia as she shakes her finger back and forth. “James, you really should
ask someone before you go snooping through their belongings. And if you don’t want to get caught, next time, make sure you put all of the pictures back in the box. You left one on the floor.”
Shit. “Sylvia-” I start to speak.
“Goodnight,” she says and knocked me between the eyes with the handle of the bat, knocking me out cold.
Chapter Seventy-One
I blink my eyes open, and I find myself sitting in a chair in the middle of my apartment –my wrists zip-tied to the chair behind me. My head is throbbing, and a bit of blood drips down into my lap. Holy hell –what happened? Oh yeah, that’s right, I just found out my girlfriend is just a diagnosis away from being clinically insane.
I hear a clicking sound, and I glance over to see Sylvia typing away on my laptop –seated not too far from me on my couch. She glances up, chuckled slightly, and continues typing. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” she says, and I spot the bloody baseball bat lying on the floor under her feet. The bat has old blood stains that I know must belong to someone other than me –Eddie, perhaps?
“What happened?” I ask, my head bobbing slightly as I am coming to.
“You got caught, that’s what,” Sylvia’s demeanor is entirely different than what I am used to. I don’t know what to think.
“You’re real name?” I ask.
“I think you know,” she does not look up from my laptop.
“Suzette,” I say, and she nods along –clearly amused by my confusion. “You’re Éclair’s little sister?”
“Yup,” she says nonchalantly as though we are just having a casual conversation.
“And you and Éclair have been in on all of this together, haven’t you?” I grit my teeth at the thought.
“Oh, please,” Sylvia looks up briefly from her work. “Éclair is a moron. When I ran into her at the hospital she actually believed this bullshit story I spun her about taking physical therapy there. I haven’t seen her since I did that little modelling gig at her company almost two years ago. Éclair has no idea.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, “What do you have to gain from all of this if you weren’t trying to help your sister buy out my company?”
She turns the laptop around, revealing that she has my bank account pulled up. Shit. How did she get all of that? “I’m about to make a pretty impressive wire transfer to myself to an offshore account,” she says happily. “I knew if I stuck around long enough I’d get what information I needed. The plan was for me to buy out your company once the shit really hit the fan –and I was going to buy it out with your own money. The plan was to get you to trust me enough to start to do a takeover and we run it together with everything in my name until I could butt you out, but now I don’t see that happening, do you?”
“But why would you want my company in the first place?” I snap.
“Besides’ the fact that your company is worth billions? I suppose hearing about you from Éclair hit home. She told me about this sad little rich guy who couldn’t get along with big-brother after his brother got screwed out of his inheritance. I think Éclair missed the irony of telling me that story. Big sister got everything, and I got stuck doing grunge work for her just like Eddie. It’s too bad that Eddie caught me putting in a second round of rat poisoning into your supplements. I have to say, I relate to him a lot better than you. After I got a hold of your company, I might would have even considered keeping some of it in the Mont name –well, the Smith name, or whatever Eddie’s name is.” She turned the laptop back around and proceeding playing around on the laptop.
“So you’ve just been stringing me around and driving a wedge between Éclair and I, what, because you wanted to run your own company so that you could compete with your sister?” I shake my head in disbelief at this woman’s absurdity. I grit my teeth at her, “You know all that shit is password protected. There is no way my bank is going to let you transfer the amount of money you need to-”
“Let’s see, password protected,” Sylvia, err, Suzette, sings, “Password hint: first pet. Let’s see…. You told me that one! Bagel –your dad’s stupid dog that you just loved, right? Let’s see if that works… what do you know!” she smiles up at me. “You think I haven’t already slipped all of these password hints into our conversations? Lookie there, it’s asking for another one. Password hint: childhood best friend. Rodney, right? The guy you told me about that Eddie couldn’t’ stand? Awe –look that one worked too.”
Conniving little bitch. “Well your plan is not going to work,” I say, “my company is not for sale, so even if you have the money-”
“Well, when the owner of Shattered turns up dead like his big brother, someone is going to have to take over,” she puts the laptop aside, the transaction having already been made. She reaches down for the baseball bat and comes over to me.
“Sylvia-” I say longingly, hoping that she senses the desperation in my tone.
“Suzette,” she says and then starts swaying the bat at her side, “Do you have any idea how hard it was playing the part of your perfect little angel? It took months of following you around to prepare me for the role –to figure out what you liked. It sure did help that you had been crushing on my modelling job for so long.” She rubs her eyes, “Damn these things!” she removes her contacts, revealing big purple eyes just like Éclair’s. They look creepy on her.
I pull at the zip-ties, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to break free. “Suzette,” I say, correcting myself, “You’re telling me that all of this was fake? Nothing about what we had was real?”
She just laughs at me. “You really thought this was a match made in heaven, didn’t you? News flash, James, relationships are not ever that easy.”
I feel as though my stomach and chest have swapped place –if that makes sense. I just feel out of whack. Betrayed. Disappointed. And a little heart broken. Oh, God, Éclair! If what Suzette is saying is true and Éclair had nothing to do with this, she’s never going to forgive me. “So what’s your plan now?” I ask.
“I’m going to beat the shit out of you like I did to Eddie, but this time I’m going to make sure you stay dead the first time around,” before I have time to doubt that this tiny woman could have possibly have taken down my older brother, she swings the bad into my shoulder, and I swear my arm is broken.
“Mother fucker!” I shout and attempt to bounce out of the chair, but all I do is knocked myself and the chair over onto my side which hurts like hell with my arms wrapped around the back and tied. I suppose I just always assumed some big guy had taken down Eddie, but one would have thought being surrounded by extremely athletic women like Éclair and Suzette I would have not jumped the gun on that one. Nope, I just assumed a woman wouldn’t get her hands dirty like this. She had probably come up on Eddie and knocked him in the head like she had done me –except she had probably not waited around for him to wake up to finish the job.
I’m not really sure what hurts worse –finding out that this woman I had completely fallen for didn’t exist and is really just some psychopath out to one-up her sister or the beating I’m taking from said psychopath. The bat makes contact with my sides, hands, legs, and my skull. I am spitting up blood, still trying to pull at my restraints. I can feel the plastic ties bending, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to break them before she kills me.
The private elevator door opens. There are only three people who have access to my elevator. Eddie had been one. Suzette was the second.
Éclair enters into my apartment with this pissed off look on her face. Thank God! I’ve never been so relieved to see her in my life even with that sour look. When she spots me and Suzette her mind takes a moment to register what is happening. “What the fuck!” she shouts and looks directly at her sister. “You’re insane! Put that down!” she lunges at Suzette, but Suzette swings the bat in her sisters direction –so Éclair jumps back and holds up both hands, dropping her Gucci purse in the process.
“Are you kidding me?” Suzette hi
sses as she sways her bat around, “James, I thought you said I was the only one who had access to that elevator.”
I can only mumble my response as I spit up blood and, awe fuck –is that a tooth? She knocked one of my teeth out! “Why would he give you access to his elevator?” Éclair asks and then shakes her head, realizing that that is not at all important right now. “Suzette, what the hell are you doing?”
“I really wish you hadn’t come up here,” Suzette says, “I mean, really, Éclair. I really wish you didn’t see this. I mean, I can’t stand you, but I never would have gone out of my way to hurt you physically. But now you’ve seen this, so I don’t think you’re leaving me much of a choice.”
Éclair takes another step back. “Why are you hurting James?”
“She’s Sylvia,” I manage to spit out weakly, and I can see the gears turning in Éclair’s head as she pieces together the extravagant and mentally unstable plan Suzette had created.
“Oh my God, ewe!” Éclair snaps, “You’re sleeping with my sister!”
Not the part I want her concentrating on right now. The two of them start yelling at one another in French, and I am almost afraid to know what they are saying. Suzette lunges towards Éclair, her bat at her side. “Leave her alone!” I shout from the ground, pulling at my restraint with what little strength I can muster as Éclair makes a run for my kitchen to get away from her crazy sister. I hear crashing noises as Éclair dodges the bat and Suzette knocks a bunch of shit off my kitchen counter.
I look up to see Éclair diving out from around my kitchen island just as Suzette catches up to her, beaming her square in the back with the bat and knocking her to the ground. Suzette comes at her with the bat, and the zip-ties finally snap. I suddenly don’t feel my injuries as adrenaline flushes throughout my body, and I dive right into Suzette –tackling her like a damn football player. We go crashing back, and I’m fairly certain I’ve knocked her out after that impact. I stand up slowly, hardly able to hobble over to Éclair who is lying flat on her stomach moaning something terrible. I hope Suzette didn’t break her spine with that hit.