by Tijan
The words were spoken casually. Mena was applying tanning lotion on her arms beside me, at the hotel’s pool. No one was paying attention to us. It was nice. For once, I felt normal. For once, I felt like everyone else. For once, I let myself breathe. Things would be fine.
Then Mena spoke, and I frowned. A little girl ran giggling past me. Her mother was fast on her heels and she swept her baby up, saying, “Oh, you. You think you’re such a little sprinter, don’t you?” There was a mixture of relief and amusement in her voice.
For some reason, that made me smile. I didn’t know why, but I would remember this moment, years later, and wonder why that detail stuck out to me.
“What did you say?” I asked Mena, shielded my eyes with my hand to my forehead. I thought she said—no. I laughed. That couldn’t be.
“Marcus.”
She said his name again.
My heart paused, one solid beat, as his name sunk in. “What?” I felt gutted.
She nodded. “He was my friend.” Her voice was carefree, like we were discussing if we should go for coffee or not. Then she paused and looked up, meeting my gaze. “We talked about you a lot.”
“Wai—what?” I swallowed. “You mean like Leisha and Bailey? Was he going to do the same thing to you?”
She laughed again. The light-heartedness of it sent chills down my back. “No, Sheldon. Not like that. I wasn’t like those girls.”
“But,” she had to have been. “Mena, we were friends. He targeted those girls because of me. It would make sense if he had . . .” I trailed off. She was so confident, so sure. And a bad feeling took root in my stomach.
A part of me knew before she said the words, but it still didn’t temper the shock when I heard, “He didn’t pick those girls, Sheldon. You’re silly if you think that.”
“Wha—who—” I stopped again. Chills were all over my body, I felt them in my spine, wrapping around my feet, even moving up to my teeth. They began to chatter together now. “Mena, w-what are you saying?”
She gave me a smile. It was so sweet, but so menacing at the same time. She said, “When’s Carolina coming today?”
“Caro—what?” My heart was racing now, and Mena narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to the side as she studied me. I tried to give her a smile. I failed, but I murmured, as my hand slipped from my leg to the phone beside me. Mena didn’t know it was there.
I thought back now. She had been watching me. She saw me put my phone in my bag and then move the bag underneath my chair.
Thoughts were whirling in my head. I had to get help. I had to notify someone.
She had turned away. When the waiter came over to get our drink order, I gave him the wrong card. She went to grab it for me. She had gotten up from the chair to go over to him. That was when I grabbed my phone and laid it beside me, not thinking.
Thank god.
I had put my bag back. It wouldn’t look any different. She wouldn’t have any idea.
“Sheldon?”
“What?”
Mena was still frowning, her eyes roaming all over my face as she returned to the lounger next to me. “Did you call Carolina? Is she coming today?”
“No.” I forced the ends of my mouth up. “I mean, she has a meeting. She can’t come today.”
“That’s too bad.” She looked down at her lap.
“Why?”
“Huh?” Her head lifted back up. “What?”
“Why?” I swallowed over a lump. “Why is that too bad?”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “No reason. I don’t know her that well, but she seemed nice at the hospital. I’ve heard a lot about her.”
“From who?” As I kept asking questions, I dialed the first saved number on my phone, then I remembered it was my mother’s and I could’ve cursed myself. I didn’t know why I kept her number the first on the list, but it was there and I started a silent prayer, hoping she’d answer, hoping she’d figure it out.
Please, Mom. Please be a mom for once in your life.
“Grace.”
“What?” I jerked upright. Grace?
Mena reared back from confusion. “Are you okay, Sheldon?”
“Y-y-yeah.” Another smile. Another attempt. “What were you saying before? Grace told you about Carolina?”
“Yeah.” A speculative look entered her eyes and her eyebrows moved forward. “Grace kept me informed. She told me everything about you.”
I waited, expecting her to go back to flipping through the magazine. She didn’t. She set it aside and sat up, turning so she was sitting facing me. She swung her legs off the side of the lounger, and she said, “I have to tell you something, Sheldon, and you can’t freak out.”
“Mena?”
“Promise me you won’t freak out.”
She was so earnest. I searched her eyes, studied her how she’d been contemplating me a moment before. There was no maliciousness there. No evilness. She . . . I swallowed tightly. She seemed distressed, about to confess something. My gut clenched. What the hell was she going to confess?
Then she asked, rushed, “We never really talked about it, but did Denton ever tell you about our parents? How they were best friends? You know, before my parents got a divorce.”
“What?” This was from left field. “What are you talking about?”
“Just bear with me.” She sounded so patient and a maniacal laugh ripped from me. She was calm, and I was ready to launch from my lounger. There was irony there somehow. “Sheldon?”
“Yeah, yeah. Yes, he told me, but I was there. I remember those times. It was fun.” And it had been, before something happened. “Your parents got a divorce and stopped being friends with my parents.”
“But do you know why?”
“Who cares?” I grimaced. “I mean, you might. I’m sorry.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Same old Sheldon. You’re always so funny.”
“No.” I shook my head. I wasn’t funny. Not at all.
“What?”
I hit the volume on my phone, making sure it was the highest it could go, then I turned to her and said, “What did you mean when you said Marcus didn’t choose those girls?”
“Because I did.”
Oh my god.
I started to fall back, but my fingers curled around the seat and held on. I had to keep going. I had to get all of it from her. “What do you mean by that?”
She laughed, but then it ended on a serious note, a bone-chilling note. “You know why, Sheldon.” A gleam entered her eyes. “Why don’t we discard the bullshit. You know who I am.”
There it was.
I said, “You killed Grace?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
A sad smile flittered across her face, and she let out a soft sigh. “Because she had to go. I always knew. It was hard, though, like I knew it would be.” A tear fell from her eye, and she let it trickle all the way to her chin. She never touched it. “I loved her and for a while I thought I wouldn’t have to, but that night she confessed. I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to do it.”
“You had to kill her? Why?” The last question ripped from me.
She frowned. “You really don’t get it?”
“Get what?”
“Our parents. They were best friends, Sheldon. My dad, did Denton never talk to you about him? How he hated me? How my parents got a divorce and stopped hanging out with yours?” She frowned, shaking her head. “Do you really not get it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have to protect you. It’s my job.”
“Bu—what? Why?”
She laughed, and I held onto my chair. I knew then I would remember that laugh for the rest of my life. It wound its way down my spine, and a shiver went through my body.
Nothing would be the same. I knew it. Whatever she was going to say next, there would be no undoing it.
Then she said, almost laughing as she did, “I’m your sister, Sheldon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I didn’t move. I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe.
Then it all started coming at me at the same time. When Denton told me, “Our parents are a joke. My dad’s always hated her. Our mom’s never had the time for her. She’s only got me.”
When my dad had snorted. “He grew up next door. His folks were best friends with Sharon and me.” He shuddered. “That was a big mistake.”
When Denton had confided in me so long ago, in high school. “Mena has been . . . awful lately. I don’t know what’s going on with her. She just is angry and she takes it out on everyone. Dad’s called me three times this weekend to come over because he can’t handle her anymore.”
I choked out, “What?”
Denton’s voice haunted me again. “Our dad won’t have anything to do with us, well, with Mena. He’ll talk to me as long as I don’t bring her up. How’s that for father of the year, huh?”
“I’m your sister. Neil’s my real dad.” She let out a breath and rolled her eyes. “My mom and Neil had an affair. That’s why my dad has hated me all my life. You’re so funny. You never realized that? I mean, we were neighbors. They were best friends. It makes sense in some warped way, but that’s why. We’re sisters. No one else can threaten our relationship. I’ll protect you. I will. Corrigan and I will protect you now. It’s both of our jobs.” She rolled her eyes. “If he wouldn’t be such a dick all the time, he wouldn’t be so bad.”
My heart kept thudding against my chest. This was a nightmare that I had woken up to. It wouldn’t leave. “Our relationship?”
“You and me. Sisters. Friends. That’s why Leisha and Bailey had to go.”
I couldn’t swallow. “And Grace?”
“Duh. Yeah. You and she had that falling out because of the stupid sorority, but she called me that night. I knew you cared about her, but I couldn’t let her hurt you again.”
“So you went over there?” My tongue felt like lead, weighing me down. I couldn’t believe any of this.
“I went over there. We had a glass of wine and then . . .” She stopped, closing her eyes for a moment. “They never told you how she died?”
I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. It was wrong. It was surreal. It shouldn’t have ever happened, but I asked, knowing I needed it to be told in case my mother was actually recording it. “No. They never did.”
I heard the detective’s voice in my head again. “As for the DNA, yours wasn’t enough of a match.”
“I poisoned her.”
Oh my god. I drew in a shuddering breath. I couldn’t talk for a moment.
Mena said further, “I had Marcus kill the others. I told him to do what he pleased. He and I—we bonded over you. I never told him you were my sister. I just said we were close and it was meant to be. He thought the same thing, but, you know, in a very different way. That’s why he stabbed Corrigan. You were right, by the way.”
Oh. Joy. Was I?
“He was going to kill Corrigan and Bryce no matter what. You were right in killing him, and I overheard you and Bryce. I know the two of you set him up. I don’t blame you. He was really sick. He would’ve killed me too. He was so possessive of you. I recognized it early on. I knew that eventually he would come for me. He wouldn’t be willing to share, but I will. I know you love Corrigan, and I’m okay with it. It’s a different relationship that you have with him versus me. I’ve always understood that. Corrigan and Bryce were your fiercest protectors. No one deserves you, but they protected you. For that, I’ve always been thankful to them, but I’m your sister. It’s my job to take care of you too. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
“That’s why you killed Grace? And had Bailey and Leisha killed? They were female friends?”
“Well, yeah. They couldn’t have that sisterly bond. They would’ve tried. I mean, come on, Sheldon. I know they would’ve tried. They were thirsty to be close to you, but they would’ve done what everyone does.”
They weren’t. They so weren’t. Tears started falling free from my eyes. I couldn’t stop. I was afraid to ask. “What does everyone do?”
“Turn on you.” She was so calm, so certain of herself. “They would’ve hurt you. I couldn’t let them do that. Like Grace did.”
Mena kept spewing more craziness, but I started to tune her out. She wanted to talk. She wanted to spill this from her chest. A fog began to come over me, slowly fading everything away. Mena’s voice, so abnormally chipper, grew muffled. A word here and there slipped through the fog, but it was so dense, it was becoming a wall. It was closing around me, and all I could think about was, what the hell was I going to do?
Mena confessed.
Carolina was coming.
Carolina was in danger.
Stay in public. That’s what others would tell me. Mena wouldn’t hurt Carolina or me if there were around witnesses.
I looked over, and she was still talking. She was even smiling. She looked so happy.
I felt nauseous.
Then I heard myself saying, my voice sounding loud and distorted through my own fogged wall, “Let’s go to the room.”
She stopped. Concern flashed over her face, her forehead wrinkled together. “Are you okay?”
No. “Yes, wait. No. I feel a little sick. I should lie down.”
“Okay. Yes. That’s a good idea.”
We got up and when we got back to the room, I pressed a hand to my forehead. “You know, Mena, I feel kinda feverish. I think I’m going to lie down. Take a nap.”
“Oh.”
I saw the suspicion in her depths and reached out, squeezing her hand. “Can you come over tomorrow night? We can do movie night?”
“Oh.” The wrinkle in her forehead disappeared, but her mouth was still pointing downward. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Yes. Well, to be honest, I think the whole sister thing is a lot right now. You know?” I smiled, making sure I looked tired, peaked, and genuine. Smile, bitch. Smile until the psycho killer leaves.
“Okay.” Her head bobbed up and down and her shoulders rolled back. “That sounds good. Tomorrow can be sister movie night.”
“Yes. That sounds great.”
“Okay. I suppose I should grab my things and . . .”
The buzzer sounded from the door.
Mena’s frown appeared again and she glanced at me, finishing her sentence, “. . . go? Who—”
“Sheldon!” Carolina banged on the door again. “You said you’d have a glass of Merlot waiting for me, but guess what? You don’t. I checked the pool. There’s no you and more importantly, no Merlot for me. I know you’re in there.” She groaned, laughing at the same time. “Please tell me Corrigan didn’t come back for a quickie. You still have stitches. You can’t rip those suckers.” She snorted then. “Suckers. Oh, that word. Okay, come on.” Another bang on the door. “Seriously. Let me in. I need to get classy wasted right now. The damn sorority meeting has driven me to drinking so let me drink, woman.”
“You . . .” The betrayal appeared first in Mena’s eyes. They darkened, her eyebrows burrowing together. The sides of her mouth pinched downward, and she turned toward the door. As she was turning for the door, hurt replaced the betrayal, and right before she was completely facing to the door, I saw the anger. She sucked in a breath. Her shoulders lifted, becoming rigid, and her hands formed into tiny little fists.
“Mena, don’t.” I hurried to block her.
She stopped and clipped her head from side to side in a savage movement. “Get out of the way.”
“Carolina hasn’t done anything.”
“You did. You lied to me.”
“Mena—” I stopped. I had no idea what to say.
She continued to shake her head and her hand lifted, pinching the skin on her forehead. “Why? Why? WHY?”
I backed up against the door. My throat was dry and I held up my hands. “Mena . . .” I had nothing, though. I had lied to her. She was crazy. What the hell had I done?
Carolina knocked on the door
again. Her voice sounded so close now, right behind me. “Sheldon? What’s going on in there?” She paused, then asked, “Are you o—oh.”
I heard the alarm starting in her voice, and I closed my eyes. That wasn’t good. It was the final nail in the coffin. And as I looked again, Mena was gone from in front of me. What? I stepped forward. “Mena?”
I moved four more steps when she reemerged from the hallway. A butcher knife was in her hands. I groaned. “I didn’t know they had those in hotel rooms.”
She lifted the knife and examined it. “Only in penthouses, I’m sure.” Her hands tightened around the handle bar. “Move aside, Sheldon. You know what I have to do.”
I backed all the way to the door. “Carolina hasn’t betrayed me.”
“BUT YOU BETRAYED ME!” she bellowed out, holding the knife with both hands now. She was gripping onto it like it was a lifesaver. “Move,” she hissed through closed lips. “You hurt me. I have to hurt you back.”
Done. I shot forward and held my arms out, turned upward for her. “Go for it. Hurt me.”
She jerked backward, her hand trembling. “No. Never you. Never.” Her eyes narrowed. “What is wrong with you? I would never hurt you.”
I pressed my lips together. She was already looking toward the door again. I was running out of time so I dropped my arms and straightened to my fullest height. My chin lifted. My eyes narrowed. And my shoulders rolled back. Then I cocked my head to the side. “You’re not getting through me.”
There was no reaction from her.
“I mean it. It’s you and me. There’s no way I’m letting you hurt any more of my friends.”
“Move, Sheldon.”
“No.”
Her eyes snapped back to mine, and her top lip curved into a snarl. “I said move.”
I stood my ground.
We were at an impasse.
Then she murmured, a cruel grin alighting her face, “I could slice you. You would be weakened from the blood flow, and then I would step over your body, open that door, and plunge this into your friend. That’s how easy killing can be.”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“If you are standing in my way, I will do what I have to do. Harming you is not the same as killing you. One slice won’t kill you, and don’t think I won’t do it. I’ve hurt myself at moments when I had to.”