by Stacy Green
Isn’t it funny how far we will go for our own survival? Whether or not we actually deserve to live is irrelevant. Survival is a basic primal instinct, and the species who still walk this earth do so because they were willing to do whatever it took to stay alive. Less than two days ago, I thought I’d been ready to hand myself to the police, sign my life away. More lies to myself. I saw that now. Admitting defeat and turning myself in would have made me feel like a martyr, alleviating the guilt of Todd and Justin and even Chris’s involvement. Stuck in a prison cell and then probably death row, I would have consoled myself with my personal sacrifice.
I started to laugh. I’d fooled myself quite well. Which meant it shouldn’t be too difficult to trick the weakest link in this duo.
Stupid little girl. I’d kill her first.
Escaping the zip ties around my wrists and ankles was impossible. Riley would have to cut me free, or I’d have to bank on them cutting them off during the transport to the buyer. Too risky. Playing Riley was easier.
I started to scream.
As expected, she slammed out of the door that connected to the house. She stunk of sex, and her sweater was gone, leaving her in a skimpy tank top that showed off her perky breasts. “What do you want?”
“Where’s Jake?”
“He’s taking a nap.” She smiled, and I wondered why I’d ever thought she was pretty. “He’s taking you to the buyer himself, and it’s a long drive. He needs his rest.”
“After you serviced him.”
No response.
“Why are doing this?”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how you got involved in this, but it’s not too late for you. Let me go, and we’ll turn Jake in.”
Riley snorted, making her even uglier. “Please. I have no skills. I’m a prostitute. Even if I didn’t get charged because I helped, where do I go after this? Not to my parents. Right back to the streets giving blowjobs to dirty old men who think ten bucks is a fair price. No thanks. Jake’s making real money, and I’m not walking away from him.”
“You don’t love him.”
“What’s love, anyway? I’m happy and fed, and he doesn’t make me do shit I don’t want to do. That’s good enough for me.”
Old Lucy would have felt sorry for this poor girl who’d been so used and abused she’d lost all self-worth and hope. New Lucy saw nothing but an obstacle and a waste of space.
“You’re not going to change your mind.”
She shook her head.
I let my chin fall to my chest, summoning my worst memory-the one I’d stored in the vault decades ago. Not finding my sister dead or hearing my mother call Lily a liar. The memory occurred two nights earlier, when my mother went out with friends, and her boyfriend slipped into bed with Lily in the next room. Usually he waited until I was asleep, until the middle of the night, she’d said later. But that night he was drinking and feeling brave. He stole into her room and made her scream so badly I wet the bed. I thought of that scream now, of her begging him to stop, of her pleading with him not to make her do that. He sodomized her and left her bleeding into the toilet while he passed out in the bed he shared with our mother.
Ashamed that I’d been too terrified to get up and do something to stop it, my underwear soaked with my own urine, I went to the bathroom and cleaned both of us up. That’s when she told me how long it had been going on, and I convinced her to tell Mom. I truly believed she would listen and make him go away. But Mom didn’t, and Lily killed herself.
I wondered about the role I played in her death. What if I’d kept my mouth shut, and Lily had simply endured until she outgrew his interest? He might have moved on to me, but she might be alive. Our mother’s disbelief is what made Lily take her own life.
When I tasted the hot, salty tears, I raised my head and looked at Riley. She stood with her skinny hip cocked to the side, arms folded over her chest. Smug little shit.
“What’s wrong, Lucy? Finally realizing you’re not calling the shots?”
A perfectly round tear rolled down my cheek and dripped onto the floor. “Who’s buying me?”
“Some big, sweaty guy in Jersey and his new wife.” Her laugh sounded like a braying horse. “They can’t wait to get you.”
“So Jake’s been planning this?”
“Ever since the wife contacted him, yeah. She asked for you by name.”
Through my tears and the bad light, I stared at the babbling brat. Everything in the garage became crystal clear, as though I’d just managed to focus a microscope after fiddling with the lens. “Why would a woman contact Jake about me specifically?”
“She bought a girl from us before, so she knew Jake had good product. Said she was looking for you. Jake couldn’t believe the timing because you’d become a big problem.” Another braying laugh. I liked her better when she was distrusting and quiet. “Talk about luck.”
“Her name is Mary?”
“Very good.” Riley clapped her hands and danced on her toes. “You must have really pissed her off. Did you kill someone she loved?”
“No.”
Mary was looking for me, not her sons. How did she know of my connection to Chris and Justin? When the news first broke about Mary Weston being Martha Beckett, Chris’s personal history had been dragged through the papers. Had I been mentioned in those articles? I couldn’t remember.
Riley picked at her fingernails. “And just so you know, I recognized you from the street right away. Your face is pretty memorable, even with the wig and nerdy glasses. I hoped you’d find Preacher. How did you kill him? Tell me, please? I’m sure he deserved it.”
So she wanted to share secrets. Bond. Dumb girl, playing right into my hands. “An overdose of ketamine.”
She threw her head back and bellowed. “Oh, I hope he suffered. Did he?”
“Yes. And he begged for his life. Peed his pants.”
She ate it up, and I layered more on. “I could have turned him in, but I killed him for beating you. He treated you like a piece of garbage. And that’s why I killed him. For you, Riley.”
For the first time, uncertainty flickered in her dark eyes. “Really?”
“Yes. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.” I summoned more tears and said a silent apology to my dead sister. “I know you’re not going to let me go, but can you at least let me go to the bathroom?”
“I’d have to take you into the house. Jake would freak.”
“I’ll be quiet, I promise.” More tears dripped onto the floor. “Mary is a monster, and the things she’s got planned for me are nightmarish. Please don’t send me to her on a full bladder. I don’t want to piss myself. Give me some dignity, like I did for you by killing Preacher.”
She debated, clearly enjoying seeing me beg. Let her. “You won’t try anything?”
“Like what? I kill with poison. I don’t know any other way. And I’m done, kid. Done trying to hide and pretend to be something I’m not. Let Mary have me. But let me go my way, just a little.”
“Well, I guess you don’t have anything on you that could hurt me.” She took a step forward and then balked. “And I’ve been on the streets a long time. I know how to fight.”
Of course she did. And she was too stupid to think about the wall of weapons behind her. “I know.”
She dug out a pocketknife from her jeans and slowly approached. A three-inch, curved blade. Enough to work with. “This probably can’t kill you, but it would hurt. So don’t be stupid.”
Foolish girl.
I promised I wouldn’t. Carefully, her dark eyes never wavering from mine, she cut the ties that anchored my feet to the chair. “I’m not cutting your hands free.”
“That’s fine.”
“Stand up.”
I did, slowly, letting my legs adjust after being in the same position for too long. Faking a dizzy spell, I stumbled and clasped the metal chair to keep from falling. With my wrists still tied, I wouldn’t get the same le
verage, but I could stun her enough to make it to the hammer. “Woozy,” I mumbled. “Guess whatever he gave me hasn’t quite worn off.”
“Don’t fall and hurt yourself. I don’t want Jake finding out I let you up.”
Still clutching the metal chair, I tried to step forward and failed. “I’m not sure I can walk on my own. Can you help me?”
Her youth made her overconfident, and my supposed weakness gave her a false sense of security. She’d been taken care of by Preacher and Jake long enough she’d forgotten how to survive on the streets.
Riley stuck her knife back in her pocket and stepped forward. In one motion I planted my feet for leverage and then yanked the chair up, hard and fast. The metal seat caught her chin making her neck snap back. Too shocked to even utter a word, she staggered sideways. I swung the chair around and slammed it into her temple. She dropped to her knees. I jammed the chair onto the back of her head and then tossed it aside, rooting for the pocketknife.
I sawed quickly at my bonds as Riley rolled around, trying to call Jake’s name. My wrists twisted awkwardly, I kept hacking at the zip tie and kicked her in the face. Blood gushed from her mouth. The sight of it seemed to pull her back from the edge of consciousness and give her new energy. She grabbed my leg and yanked me down hard. My ass and right elbow hit the concrete, and a lightening streak of pain ascended up my arm, but the velocity was enough to cut the last plastic thread of the zip tie. My hands were free, and Riley was coming right at me.
Scrambling on her hands and knees, she reached for the chair and brought it over her head to slam it down onto mine.
I shoved the blade into her stomach just as the connecting door opened.
36
Riley dropped to her knees, the chair clattered to the floor. Blood oozed through her shirt. If I’d remembered my anatomy, I’d at least nicked her spleen. I planned to go for the hammer next, but Jake’s rushing form ruined that plan.
Shirtless and shouting, his pale chest reminding me of a hairless corpse, he charged. I dodged, barely, swinging the knife at blank air. Now he stood between a moaning Riley and me, his glittering eyes darting between the bleeding girl he supposedly cared about and the one who was going to ruin his life.
“You bitch.” Spittle flew from his lips.
I stepped back, edging toward the tools. If only the keys were in the SUV. As it stood, when I brought Jake down, I’d have two options: hit the garage door opener and run into the freezing afternoon and hope I wasn’t in the country, or dart into an unfamiliar house and search for a phone. Neither were appealing.
Riley screamed. The wound in her stomach was gushing blood. “Please, Jake, help me. Call an ambulance.”
“I can’t.” He sounded like the pathetic, unsure boy he was. “What about her?”
“Kill her!”
“I cut her spleen,” I said. “Look at how dirty this floor is. If she doesn’t bleed out by the time you get her to safety, an infection is pretty much guaranteed. And if you don’t treat that quickly, with high-powered antibiotics, it will kill her slowly.” Better than the hammer.
Riley sobbed, rolling around and making it worse and soaking up even more dirt. “Please, Jake.”
“You could run,” I said. “Find someone to take care of her, leave me be. My word against yours.”
“Or I can kill you.”
My turn for the creepy eel smile. The difference was I would back up mine. “You’re too inexperienced. You have no weapon. I have plenty behind me. And I have no fear.” I let my eyes roam his shivering, half-naked body. “You’re terrified.”
“I’m not leaving here.”
I gestured to Riley with the knife. “You’re just going to let her die? After all she did for you? That’s cold, Jake. Even I have a better moral code than that.”
He glanced down at the girl staring up at him with bone chilling fear and the slightest hint of rage. She latched onto his leg and half pulled herself into a sitting position. Blood squirted from her wound. “You’re not going to let me die, are you?”
This girl who might be able to survive on the streets but had no idea how to fight monsters was again playing right into my hands. “He was never going to let you live.”
Her head slowly angled toward mine. Pale skin, dilated pupils. She’d pass out soon. “What?”
“You served his purpose until you didn’t. Now you’re a liability.” I shrugged, waving the knife. “Now, he probably would have had Preacher kill you because this guy isn’t getting his hands dirty. I bet he’s happy I’ve done it for him.”
She gazed up at Jake. “Is that true?”
As I’d banked on, Jake wasn’t so good at face-to-face confrontation. His particular villainy worked best behind the safety of the Internet. He dragged his hands through his hair. “I…don’t know.”
“That’s a yes,” I said. “He sells little kids to be raped, Riley.” My harsh voice echoed in the small garage. “You think you mean anything?”
“Shut up!” Jake screamed at me. He stepped forward, but a clinging Riley halted his progress. I brandished the knife. What a coward and a pathetic excuse for a foe. “All I know is I’m not going to jail.” He looked down at Riley. “I’m sorry, but taking you anywhere is a risk. I’ll try to stop the blood, make some calls. But I gotta deal with her first.”
“I’m dying!” Riley’s voice was an owlish screech. “I don’t have that much time.”
Jake’s patience cracked. “You’ll just have to wait, bitch. Jesus, haven’t I done enough for you?”
The girl recoiled in defeat, but I saw the fury ripple over her face. As I reached for the shovel, Riley, with whatever strength she had left, brought her arms up and punched Jake in the genitals with both fists. He doubled over like every man does, and I swung the shovel around until it connected with his head. Once, twice, three times I hit him until he was down. On the floor now, slithering like the snake he was, I realized I’d cut off the head of the serpent exactly as I’d set out to do. Not literally, but close enough.
Riley was crying now, gurgling Jake’s name between sobs. He was stunned and trying to recover, slipping around on hands and knees.
I turned the shovel around and drove the round handle into his temple as hard as I could. Jake fell flat and went silent. Blood trickled from his left nostril. Riley screamed. Her eyes were the size of the old silver dollars Mac liked to collect.
My knees popped as I knelt down to check for a pulse. He was gone.
Good riddance.
Gazing at Riley, I contemplated my problem. I’d admitted to her I killed Preacher. She would tell everyone if I let her live. But letting her die wouldn’t look much like self-defense.
Widening the wound was an option. I could jam the knife in again, jerk it up and down and inch or two. But a good pathologist might be able to figure me out.
“Please don’t let me die.” She said. “I won’t tell about Preacher.”
“I don’t believe you.” I looked at the tip of the bloody knife. “You’ve lied to me so many times already.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Snot and tears drained onto the floor beneath her cheek. “I’m only fifteen. I swear. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought he loved me.”
“That’s no excuse. Not for what you did to other kids.” I waved the knife in the air, and Riley’s hazy eyes followed its jagged path. “To yourself? I get it. Young and dumb. Mistakes are a rite of passage, and in your case, you had a messed up start. Jake was a predator. But you didn’t have to help little kids suffer. How could you do that? Killing you is really a generous act. Otherwise you’ll have to live with those kids’ faces in your memory. And with Jake being dead, you’ll get the brunt of the state’s fury.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.” Fear pitched her words into another octave.
“Self-preservation? Is that what you’re telling me? That you could do nothing else but take the easy way out?”
Lily was cold by the time I found her. I instantly
knew what she’d done, and mixed in with the shock and panic was a cancerous anger. Her pain had been more than I could imagine, but how could she leave me like this? To deal with our mother and the fallout of Lily’s death? Of all the selfish things to do.
Lily in the pink casket she would have hated. My mother preening for attention. Everyone staring at me while they whispered the rumor–had Lily really been sexually abused, or was I just a liar? My mother wanted everything kept quiet, her boyfriend was gone, and I’d be safe. She never confirmed the story. Lily’s death was about my mother’s personal loss and embarrassment. I was left behind to heal myself in the best way possible.
Lily left me with that woman, for her own self-preservation. The easy way out.
The sudden shift in Riley’s eyes snapped me from the memory. Their color had faded to a listless, watery gray, her skin crystalline and pale.
She’s not breathing.
I dove forward, trying to resuscitate her, trying to stop the bleeding. Smelling Riley’s blood and sweat and my own guilt, I fought for her life. She was a liability, but she was also a child. Standing by while she died made me the kind of monster I’d sworn I’d never become.
But it was too late. I couldn’t save her any more than I could have saved my sister.
What would happen to me now?
Jake was dead. It was my word against their silence.
Using my shirt, I wiped the knife handle clean of my prints, and then shoved it into his hands. If the police dusted for prints, I might have a problem, but staging the scene would go a long way to proving self-defense.
It was the only option I had left.
37
Todd arrived first with two ambulances. Paramedics quickly pronounced Jake and Riley dead and began loading them for transport to the morgue. Todd took my statement in the living room of the nearly empty house. There was a couch and two chairs, with a laptop tossed causally aside. Since Jake’s wallet was right next to it, Todd and I both knew the laptop was his, and if we had any luck, it was the one he ran the sex ring from.