Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “What are you going to do?” Jessica asks.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to frame him for Lake’s death, but a murder-suicide might be a good cover for us,” he muses. “I guess we shall see.”

  He leaves the room, leaving Jessica to continue tying me up.

  Good. He’s gone, and I’m left with psycho Barbie. There has to be some form of stupid that comes with crazy, and Jessica’s lack of knowing basic math is my potential proof. I have to play it cool. Well, not cool … more like, play it up. I think back to my drama teacher and how she tried to tell me I’m supposed to react as I speak my lines, not speak my lines and then react. I have to multitask.

  “W-why would you d-do this? F-Felicia was your best friend?” I try to sound breathless and slurred. I’m past slurring, but if I make her think I’m still incapacitated, then maybe I have a chance.

  “You really want to know why I helped kill Felicia?” She looks eager to tell. I know for a fact that she loves gossip, so it’s a win-win. “You know, I’ve wanted to talk about it for so long, but I couldn’t. I guess since you’ll be dead soon, there’s no harm in continuing story time.”

  I’ve heard plenty of stories. Too many in the last seventy-two hours. I’m tired of it. I just want people to shut their mouths.

  She wraps the rope tightly around my wrist and I wince.

  “I guess it all started when Felicia suggested I join Dorothy’s crew. I was nervous to become an escort, and thought it was dumb, but I did it anyway since I wanted some spare cash. My parents are divorcing, so my daddy cut me off.” She purses her lips. “Felicia was fucking him, you know. Like she was everyone’s daddy. Anyway, Dorothy contacted me about a special client who just happened to be VIP. It was the mayor. Felicia had no idea her dad was into this shit, but he was, and I wanted payback. Felicia was the reason my family was torn apart anyway. So, why not tear hers apart? Only, I fell in love with the mayor. He was the first guy to call me cute. Not sexy, but cute. And I … well, I have daddy issues.” No shit. She looks almost wistful for a moment before she pulls tightly on my bindings. I cry out, but that only makes her smile.

  She leans her face close to mine and continues. “Felicia had no idea. I had to keep it that way because I knew how greedy she was. She practically blackmailed everyone. She had started to hang out with Ryder, which pissed me off.” She flares her nostrils as though she just smelled a wet fart. If this is her holding back her rage, I don’t want to know what else she can do to me.

  “She always said she was never interested in him, but apparently she claimed she was banging him. I’ve always had a thing for Ryder, but he would only ever kiss me. I wanted her to pay. So, the day she died, I told her we needed to hang out at her place. I knew she’d catch her dad banging me.” Jessica looks all too pleased with herself. “But instead of freaking out, like I expected, she thought he was raping me.” She finishes tying up my wrist and makes her way to the other side of the bed. I’m too weak to fight her off as she grabs my other wrist and starts knotting the rope around it.

  “She flipped the fuck out. I didn’t understand, but she went on a rant about how she knew he raped Ryder’s mom and that he was Ryder’s father, and that he killed May Lewis. She was going to expose him. I was shocked when she said no money could buy her silence. I mean, this was a girl who blackmailed everyone and their uncle’s cousin Bobby.”

  As she ties an intricate knot around me, I realize Jessica’s actually good at something. “She laughed in her father’s face, telling him it was over, and she would destroy him. She said she’d be free of him, free to be whoever she wanted. He told her she’d never be free. She’d never get what she truly wanted, which was you. If anyone found out he was involved in your mom’s murder, you would hate her forever. I’d always figured she wasn’t really into Jaxon, and when he said that, it made sense she was in love with you.”

  She smiles all dreamily at me. It’s creepier than even Mr. Crane’s smirk. She really is enjoying seeing me in this state.

  “She got upset and slapped him. He slapped back, and they got into a bit of an altercation. But when she was barely breathing on the floor, he told me to tie up her neck. I don’t know what it is about someone crying in pain that gets me hot, but I thought about screwing her. Though, I doubt she’d enjoy it. Not like it was you.”

  “You’re sick,” I spit.

  She shrugs as she pulls on my bindings again. I cry out. She beams. “You know, her last words before he told me to strangle her were, ‘she’ll get you.’ My guess is she assumed you’d be smart enough to stop him. Sucks for you. It kind of enraged him and he took a knife and slit her wrist, said it would look like suicide. Then, he started crying like a baby. It was sad, you know?”

  When she’s done tying my arms, she starts at my feet. As she unties them, she begins to hum. My body stops feeling like it’s been thrust onto a pile of thorns, and instead I can feel everything. It’s painful, but I bite down on the inside of my cheek to bear it.

  She removes the rope restraining my legs, and I don’t waste another second. I conjure up all my strength and kick her right in her fake nose. She cries out and does a Marcia Brady by actually saying, “Oh, my nose!” I let out my own shriek from the stinging pain in my foot.

  She stumbles back and falls on her ass.

  “You bitch,” she seethes as she touches her hand to her nose, probably making sure it isn’t bleeding, which it is… a lot.

  She pulls herself to her feet, stumbling a bit.

  “I may be a bitch, but at least my future doesn’t consist of low-budget pornos to pay off defense attorney fees!”

  Her nose oozes with blood, but she doesn’t touch it again. Instead, she lets it soak her cheer uniform. Gross. She’s actually wearing it. I didn’t realize this before due to the damn woozy drugs coursing through my veins. She rushes to the bedside table and pulls open the drawer while I struggle with my binding.

  “Stop moving!” she seethes. I turn to look at her, but my eyes don’t land on her. They zero in on the gun in her hand. Oh, fuck-ramen.

  Instead of shooting me like I expect, she pistol-whips me. I scream in pain. It doesn’t knock me out completely, like I’ve seen in movies. Instead, the blinding pain causes my vision to fill with spots, and the tears in my eyes feel like I’m being stabbed with daggers as they drip down my face. I don’t let it deter me and continue to yank at my bindings. I hear her cock the gun and see the barrel in my face. I’m going to die.

  “If you try to move again, I’ll shoot you.”

  I stop moving and stay very still. Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.

  My vision isn’t as blurry as I thought. Standing in the doorway is a figure much like the mayor’s. My heart sputters before I realize it’s Ryder. He puts his finger to his lips, and I look away fast before Jessica notices. He came for me. Ryder came to save me. He didn’t abandon me like I thought he did.

  “Good, now stay still,” Jessica says, her gun still trained on me.

  “Jessica.” Ryder’s voice causes her to flip around. Her gun is still pointed at me.

  “Ryder.” She coos his name.

  “Drop the gun,” Ryder says. From what I can make out, he looks like an experienced cop, holding his own gun like a pro.

  “Oh, this little thing? I’m sorry, baby. I can’t do that.” She sounds put out. “It’ll ruin all my fun.”

  “I’m not your baby,” he states. “Drop the gun, and I won’t shoot.”

  “You’d really shoot me?” She sounds amused.

  “The mayor is downstairs, and he’s out cold. The cops are on their way. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  She looks shocked for a brief moment but then grits her teeth. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe it,” he bites out.

  She giggles like the sociopathic bitch she is. “If you choose me, I w
on’t shoot her.”

  “Sorry, I can’t do that. She’s my girlfriend.”

  I can’t see the smirk on her face, but I know it’s there. “Try and shoot me, and she dies.”

  A gunshot rings in my ears and Jessica screams, then falls to the floor. The gun flies out of her hand and skids right to Ryder’s feet. He picks it up as she cries. He quickly opens it and removes the bullets, putting them in his pocket, then drops the gun on the floor. He moves to me. As she cries, he unties my arms.

  “I thought you didn’t follow me.” My vision is becoming clearer with each passing moment, and I can finally focus on him completely. For the first time, I’m able to breathe.

  “I will always follow you,” he says, pulling me into a sitting position.

  “Stalker. That has to be the most cliché thing I’ve heard all night.”

  His eyes smile at me as he says, “I’ve got more where that came from. For instance, I can totally princess carry you down the stairs that lead us to our freedom.”

  “I’m sick of being a damsel,” I state as I perch myself on the edge of the bed. Jessica’s still wailing while she holds her leg. “I’d prefer to get the bad guy to beg for mercy.” The second my feet hit the floor, I stumble into Ryder’s arms. “This really sucks.”

  “I know, but we have to move.” He grabs my hand and helps me walk to the doorway.

  “I’ll get you,” Jessica snaps.

  I stop and look at her.

  “What?” Ryder asks.

  “I’m waiting for her to complete that sentence with ‘and your little dog, too,’” I say.

  “What did they drug you with?” Ryder tries not to laugh.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not one hundred percent here,” I admit.

  Hand in hand, we storm down the hallway toward the stairs. My legs wobble, and I have to lean against Ryder for support. When we get to the base of the stairway, Ryder halts.

  “Damn it,” he mutters.

  “What?”

  He points to the bottom of the staircase. “He’s gone.”

  “Who?” I look to where Ryder’s eyes are trained. At the bottom of the stairs, there’s a few droplets of blood. My guess is that’s where the mayor was before Ryder got upstairs. “I beat him with the gun until he passed out. Or, at least I thought …”

  I look at our entwined hands, and so does he.

  “This is bad,” he says.

  “No shit.”

  A chuckle echoes from below. We both look down to find the mayor at the foot of the stairs with a gun in his hands. What the hell is with all these damn guns? We’re a town that promotes gun control, for fuck’s sake! It’s what helped this prick-hole mayor get elected.

  “Is it me, or is this escalating quickly,” I utter, gazing at the mayor’s gun.

  Ryder ignores me as his true father points a gun at us. Ryder cocks his own gun at the man. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot.”

  “Shoot your own father? I highly doubt that,” the mayor says with full confidence.

  Ryder narrows his eyes. “You raped my mother. That doesn’t make you my father.”

  “Yet, you consider the sheriff your father?” The mayor looks amused.

  Ryder stays silent, gun still trained on him.

  “I bet he didn’t even follow you. Too busy taking care of that nutty mother of yours to see if his son was all right.”

  “Screw you.” Ryder’s voice is deathly quiet.

  “No, screw you. You little bastard,” the mayor snaps.

  “You’re not even half the father he is,” Ryder hisses.

  Before Ryder can hold his gun up, the mayor shoots. I shriek as Ryder roars with pain and collapses against me. I nearly fall with him. Ryder falls completely to the floor, sprawled at the top of the staircase, gripping his calf. “You shot my leg. You fucktard! You shot my leg.”

  I drop down to Ryder and eye his leg, not caring if the mayor shoots me. Ryder’s wearing tight jeans that are now splattered with dark red blood. There are two gaping holes through them: one where the bullet went in and the other where the bullet went out. I turn back to the mayor and shout. “You monster! You shot your own son!”

  “I wouldn’t be so shocked. He did kill his own daughter,” Ryder moans.

  My eyes fall on the gun that’s slipped from Ryder’s hand and is inches from my own. I glance back at the mayor, but he doesn’t seem to notice the gun at all. His eyes are trained on Ryder.

  “I brought him into this world. Might as well take him out,” the mayor says. “It would’ve been better if he were never born anyway.”

  “No.” There’s a deadly edge to my voice. I put my hand behind my back and slowly pick up the gun. Ryder is grabbing his leg, biting his lip hard like I did before, trying to focus the pain there.

  “You’re the piece of shit,” I snap, gripping the gun. Thankfully, Ryder doesn’t notice, either. God only knows what he’d do if he saw this. “You raped Ryder’s mother. You killed my mother and your own daughter. If anyone shouldn’t have been born, it’s you.”

  I stand up, gun tucked behind me so he can’t see. “Tell me, Mayor Craig, how do you see this all panning out? The sheriff’s son and some teenage girl shot in your house. Neither dead. They could turn you in.”

  “Jessica was shot?” He doesn’t look as concerned as Jessica did at the thought of the mayor being harmed. “I wondered who let off that bullet. It’s all an easy fix. I’ll just finish Ryder and Jessica off … then I’ll blame you.”

  “My dad isn’t that stupid.” Ryder’s voice sounds so far away, though he’s right here.

  “Lake has motive to kill Felicia. She has motive to harm you for lying to her, and Jessica for bullying her. It all makes sense.”

  My eyes widen and I look past the mayor. “I think it’s too late for that.” My face relaxes, as though relief washes over me.

  “What are you—”

  The mayor turns to look at what’s caught my eye and lowers his gun ever so slightly. I point the gun at the mayor, who turns back to me, saying, “What—”

  Fuck you, C- in drama. When his eyes land on my gun, they bulge. It’s the first time I’ve seen him legitimately surprised throughout this whole ordeal. “You’re a good actor,” the mayor snarls.

  “And you’re not getting away with any of this, ass-munch.”

  “You’re too sweet, too good to kill someone.” There’s an edge to his voice, like he doesn’t believe a word he’s saying.

  “Drop your gun,” I snap, cocking my gun.

  He doesn’t. “Felicia thought you were too kind and soft. Probably why she loved you so much. And even though you think you’re smart, you’re not smart enough.”

  “Insulting the person who is about to shoot you isn’t really that smart. Now drop your weapon.”

  “Let’s talk about this,” the mayor says. The pistol in his hand twitches, as though he’s preparing to lift it at any moment.

  “You know, I don’t really like you. I won’t be sorry to see you go, and not just out of office. Want to know a fun fact? After my mom died, my father wanted to make sure that if anyone ever held a gun to me, I knew how to use one.”

  “What are you talking about?” The mayor begins to raise his hand.

  Before he can do anything, I say, “Bye, Bitch.” Then, I shoot at his chest. The bullet doesn’t land at my intended target. Instead, it hits his knee. He falls to the ground, and his gun skids across the floor. I don’t mention that Dad only let me practice with a nerf gun, or that I never won.

  I run down the stairs where his gun lies merely ten feet from him, and grab it. He curses me over and over again, but I don’t think twice. I rush into the living room, where Rochelle is still knocked out, and grab the house phone, calling 911. After I tell them there’s been a shooting, they tell me they already know and
that officers are on their way. I drop the phone and run back to Ryder.

  “Ryder!” I gasp for breath. It’s all wearing on me. He’s gripping his leg, his face sweaty. “Ryder, it’s okay. The cops and ambulance are coming.”

  “I-I know, I already c-called them.” His voice quivers. “Believe me, I-I’m just in pain. The bullet went s-straight through.” He’s losing a lot of blood. “He-help me up.”

  “You should stay down.” I try to keep my voice calm.

  “P-please,” he begs. I do what he asks. I stand, let him grab my arm, and heave him up. He’s heavy and I’m weak enough as it is, but I try to hold my ground. He cringes at first, but then throws his arms around my waist and pulls me close.

  “P-promise me you’ll never go off like that again.”

  He holds me close, his skin hot and clammy. “I promise.”

  He kisses the top of my forehead.

  Then, madness surrounds us. A mix of sirens, the mayor’s whines, and Rochelle’s slurred “holy shit” become the background noise to our lives. None of it matters, though, as Ryder leans down and kisses me.

  Chapter 19

  When the cops come to the Craig residence, Ryder’s whisked away into an ambulance, where he’ll get the proper medical attention he needs. Also taken by ambulance are the mayor and Jessica. The latter is a little too excited by the police escort. I only allow the paramedics to wrap up my wrists and ankles before I refuse any more medical assistance.

  The sheriff came rushing into the house in a SWAT uniform, something I definitely didn’t expect. Apparently, they had important police business before coming to see us. However, when he saw Ryder, the sheriff turned sheet white and looked like he was going to rip whoever harmed his son’s head off. He almost forced his way into the ambulance with him, but Mike convinced him to stay. Sadly, the next person he focused his attention on was me. His expression was full of displeasure when his eyes fell on me, and I knew it would be a long night.

  I’m taken to the station by the sheriff himself. The car ride’s quiet, but he looks frazzled, and I know he’s worried about his son.