by Dawn Klehr
I couldn’t do that to him.
So we left.
49
Johnny
I still have the gun to Ethan’s head. I don’t want to pull the trigger. But I want to destroy Travis. More than I’ve ever wanted to do anything in my life.
Two birds, one stone.
But it doesn’t matter what I want.
“Don’t do it, man,” Travis begs. “Don’t do it.”
I put the gun back in my jeans and I grab my knife instead.
“No, no, no,” Travis chants.
Becca’s eyes flicker, but she says nothing.
I take my knife and stand over Ethan.
“Johnny,” Becca says. “Do it.”
Then Cassie’s voice rings in my ear: Don’t follow her down the rabbit hole.
Travis cries.
It’s just too much, so I grip my knife and slice.
The room is still as I start cutting away.
Soon, deep cathartic sobs ring out in the dank cell as I cut through the bindings to remove Ethan’s restraints. Travis’s chants turn into, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”
My girl is not feeling the love. She’s already out the door and on the move. She’s nobody’s fool.
I’ll support you, whatever you need, she said. What a load of shit.
I free Ethan and then move to Travis, putting my knife under his chin.
“You wait until we’re gone,” I tell him, applying pressure to the blade. “Then you get your brother some help.”
He nods so vigorously, it looks like it hurts.
“I was not here.” I begin cutting through his restraints. “Becca was not here. Remember, we got to you once. We can do it again.”
More nods.
“You belong in jail, you piece of crap,” I say, cutting a little more carelessly than I need to. “But sinking you would sink us too. So I guess we’re stuck with each other.”
“If that’s how it has to be, I can live with it,” Travis says.
“We have no choice,” I say before running out that door for the very last time.
We’d never tell; we couldn’t. We’d become forever connected … forever bound to our secrets. I trusted that Travis would never say a word. He had too much to lose. I’m sure Becca could’ve found a way out, but she didn’t try.
That night was the last time I saw her.
Cass was right: Becca’s parents sent her away to get help. They really did seem like they loved her, now that I think about it, but I’d only seen what she wanted me to see when I was under her spell. I believed everyone was against her.
It’s crazy, but I miss her every day.
At least our secrets are safe.
Though there is still one thing that bothers me. I wish I could talk to Becca about it. It’s Ethan. Sometimes when that last night plays on the screen behind my eyelids, I see that expression he had on his face. That movement I swear I saw out of the corner of my eye when he was unconscious.
That fleeting moment is burned into my brain.
I wonder. What did Ethan really see while we had him tied up?
Hear?
What does he know? Was he passed out that entire time, or was he listening, scheming? Were we being played?
I, for one, hope we never find out.
50
Becca
So that’s how it ends? After all the work, all the planning, all the things that could’ve gone wrong, it was Johnny who threw it all to hell.
That’s why you can’t trust people.
People are unpredictable.
“Becca.” A short, plump nurse reads my name from her chart. I call her Teacup. “Time for your meds.”
I walk over to her, place the pills in my mouth, and take a sip of water under her watchful eye. My little show works every time.
But I won’t say where I’ve been putting those pills. A girl needs her secrets.
“Thank you,” I say before giving her an authentic smile—not Dad’s passed-down grimace. A real one; the kind people like. Teacup returns it.
See, I’m learning.
I follow the crowd back to our rooms for naptime. Of course, that’s not what I’m doing in my room. I have far too much on my mind to sleep; far too much to organize and get ready. I thought my plans for Travis and Ethan were elaborate. That was nothing compared to what I’m working on next.
It’s okay, though. I have plenty of time.
Maris Ehlers Photography
About the Author
Dawn Klehr is the author of the young adult thrillers The Cutting Room Floor and If You Wrong Us.
She began her career in TV news, and though she’s been on both sides of the camera, she prefers to lurk behind the lens. Mostly she loves to get lost in stories—in film, in the theater, or on the page—and is a sucker for both the sinister and the sappy. She’s currently channeling her dark side as she works on her next book.
Dawn lives in the Twin Cities with her funny husband, adorable son, and naughty dog. Visit her online at dawnklehrbooks.com.
Don’t miss Dawn Klehr’s
Flux debut, The Cutting Room Floor.