by Stacy-Deanne
“Oh so that’s how it is?” He tickled her feet.
“Ooh!” She giggled. “Okay I’m sorry for being bitchy!” She kicked. “Stop!”
“Yeah that’s right.” He pulled on her gown. “Where you get off acting that way when someone was trying to be nice?”
“You’re still an asshole.”
He stared at her with his face titled. “You got the prettiest smile.”
She went hot in the face and neck. “I uh, I’m going to bed.” She headed for the door. “Goodnight.”
He got there before she did. “Uh-uh.”
“Please, Bruce.” She sweated all over. “I just wanna go to bed.”
He pulled her close. “You must be psychic because that’s exactly what I had in mind.”
“Bruce.”
“I want you.” He pulled one of the straps of her gown down and fondled her erect nipple. “We gonna really play this game, Dylan?” She tingled from his demanding touch. “When we both know you want me too?”
“I…I’m not ready.”
“Well.” He picked her up. “You better hurry up and get ready.”
Ring! Ring!
Dylan giggled. “I’m saved by the bell.”
He put her down. “Shit, man.”
They went into the living room.
“I swear phones only ring when it’s time to fuck.” He answered it. “Hello? Yeah she’s here.” His face went through a million expressions. He ran his hand through his hair. “Thanks for calling.” He blew a big breath and hung up.
“Is something wrong?”
“Dylan.”
“What?” Butterflies coiled in her stomach. “You look like someone just died or something.”
“Fuck. I don’t know how to say this.”
“Just tell me. After what happened tonight I’m ready for anything.”
“Not this. I don’t think you could ever be ready for this.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Dylan charged down the hall of the police station with Bruce by her side. She tried to analyze what Bruce had told her because it couldn’t be true.
They made it to the little room the police had Zoë in. Brianna and Steven sat on the bench. They smiled at Dylan in a way that should’ve been comforting but only made her feel worse.
Sandra and Donna sobbed into tissues.
Jasmine pulled Dylan into a smothering embrace. “Oh, honey.” Her tears wet Dylan’s cheek. “Oh I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Just tell me this isn’t true.” Dylan looked at the detectives. “Please just tell me it isn’t true.”
“She confessed, Dylan,” Steven said. “I’m so sorry. I know this is hard for you.”
“And you guys really expect me to believe that my best friend killed my mother? Bruce?” She ran to him. “It’s not true.” She pushed her face into his shirt. “Oh please tell me this isn’t true!”
“I wish I could.” He rocked her.
“She wants to speak to you,” Brianna said. “Jayce is in there with her now.”
“I don’t care what anyone says. Zoë is not a killer and she’d never do anything so horrible. She’s like my sister. She’d never hurt me.”
“We were just telling your aunt things we’ve found out,” Brianna said.
Sandra and Donna held each other.
“What’s she talking about, Aunt Jas?”
“Sit down, honey.” Jasmine guided Dylan to the bench. “There are a lot of things about Zoë that you don’t know.”
Zoë sat in the cold interrogation room. The jumpsuit felt more comfortable than she thought it would be. She knew this day would come for a long time. She just hadn’t expected it to be like this. Every time she made an effort to tell the truth the fear had stopped her. So she welcomed being cornered. She couldn’t run away or pretend everything would work out on its own.
Things never worked out that way. Plus she’d grown so tired of running, lying and pretending. Even freedom hadn’t outweighed the guilt.
Dylan stared at her from the other side of the table. Moments went by. She didn’t feel like she was really there. She figured she’d end up telling a cop about what she’d done. Even if it ended up being one she cared about. But telling Dylan the truth? No one had invented a way to prepare for something like that.
Dylan was her sister. They couldn’t be any closer if they shared the same blood.
As long as Dylan knew Zoë loved her then it hadn’t been all for nothing.
“I’m sorry, Dylan. I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
Dylan closed her eyes.
“You don’t understand the place I’ve been all my life. The pain I’ve felt. It just consumes you.” Dylan moved her hand when Zoë went to touch her. “It gets inside of you and you can’t do anything about it. It just takes over and before you know it, it’s all you have.”
Dylan covered her eyes.
“I’m the daughter Elle Givens and Nick Sebastian adopted, Dylan.” Zoë walked around. “They’re watching and listening to us from out there aren’t they?”
Dylan laid her head on the table.
“God I love you, Dylan. Whatever you believe, please believe that.” She touched Dylan’s back. Dylan scooted her chair away. “I never wanted to hurt you. That’s not what I wanted to do. But I just couldn’t let it go. For years it had been my mission to make things right. Don’t you see?” Zoë knelt beside the table. “Dylan my life with my mother was stolen from me. After you were kidnapped she was just breathing but not living.”
Dylan turned away from her.
“Jim Klein had ruined so many lives.” She clenched her jumpsuit. “And it made me so incredibly angry and sick that he’d gotten away with it. Someone had to make it right. He stole my mother’s happiness.” She touched Dylan’s hair. “You were her entire world.”
Dylan jerked her head.
“She loved you more than anything. She was a shadow without you and I tried to make her happy but I couldn’t.” Zoë stood in the corner. “I knew I could never replace what she’d lost. Please talk to me.”
Dylan played with her mood ring.
“I need you to know I loved you. Whatever lies I told or what I did, our friendship meant more to me than anything, Dylan. You are so important in my life. And I never, ever, ever wanted to hurt you.”
“You killed my mother, Zoë. You killed my mother!”
“I’m so sorry.”
“But you don’t regret it do you?”
“No! She deserved what she got. She bought you, Dylan! She bought you and kept you from your real family. That’s why I hated her!” Zoë punched the wall. “Nadia is partly responsible for my mother killing herself. I don’t regret what I did and I’d do it again and again and again!”
“You’re sick.” Dylan went to the door.
“Don’t leave!”
Dylan stopped.
“You want to know the truth then know the entire truth. You’re only seeing it from one side but Nadia caused more pain than I ever could.”
“I doubt that.”
“Nadia knew you were kidnapped. She knew it, Dylan. That’s the secret she was trying to tell you. She was trying to tell you what she’d done. She was sicker than I ever could be.”
“You stabbed her in the bathroom like she was a piece of meat and she’s sick?”
“She was. She was obsessed with you, Dylan. She didn’t want you with anyone but her. Everyone else in your life she wanted to cut out and you know that’s true. Nadia paid money for you and didn’t give a damn about your real parents. How does that make you feel?”
“You killed Shannon.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Why did you?”
“Look she just got mixed up in it. I followed her the night of Nadia’s funeral. I saw her go to the junkyard and I heard her confront Bruce. When she left I caught up with her. I was just gonna ask her some things.”
“Why?”
“Remember earlier that day you said that Nadia
might’ve told Shannon something? I wanted to see if she knew Nadia’s secret.”
“Even if she did, no one knew who you really were or would’ve been able to connect anything to you.”
“I know but I couldn’t take the chance. I had to talk to Shannon to make sure.”
“If you only planned to talk to her then why did you bring a gun?”
“Dylan.”
“You are nothing but a cold-hearted killer. You planned to kill Shannon to set Bruce up.”
“That’s not true.”
“Bullshit. You bitch. If you can plan the other shit you’ve done then you can plan that. You killed Shannon because you knew the police would think Bruce did it.”
“Everything happened so fast. I couldn’t get a hold on it.”
“And you stood by while Bruce went to jail for something you did.”
“I didn’t plan it. You gotta believe me.”
Dylan nodded. “Come on. Don’t chicken out on my now, Zoë. You didn’t give a damn about anyone but yourself. Look at the people you hurt! You cared about your vendetta and nothing else. Hell you probably would’ve killed me if I’d gotten in your way!”
“Don’t ever say that. You are my best friend in the entire world. I did what I did for my mother and everyone else who’d gone through this pain! I was there when my mother killed herself, Dylan!” Zoë punched the table. “I was fuckin’ there! I saw her blow her brains out! Her blood landed on my goddamn clothes! You could never, ever know what pain is until you experience something like that.”
“So you wanted to cause me the same pain you’d experienced?”
“It wasn’t about you.”
“Bullshit!” Dylan pushed her. “One thing you don’t get is that your revenge involves more than the people you wanted to hurt. You’re a psychopath, Zoë.”
“I’m not a psychopath! I didn’t just kill people for pleasure or thrills. I did it because it’s what they deserved.”
“You don’t get it do you? The fact that you can justify what you’ve done is why you’re a psychopath.” Dylan gripped her head. “I just can’t believe this is happening to me. What did I do to deserve this?”
“Dylan I love you so much. Please don’t hate me.”
“You saw what I was going through. You saw what my aunts were going through after Mom was killed. How could you put on an act like you cared when you’d killed her? How could you play with us like that?”
“I didn’t want you to be hurt. Please believe that. I didn’t want you going through that pain and I did my best to comfort you.”
“Our entire friendship was based on lies. You planned every part of it.”
“No it…” Zoë sobbed into her hands. “It’s not like you’re making it sound.”
“What do you want from me huh?” Dylan’s faced filled with tears. “What could you possibly want?”
“For you to know that I love you and that I always did. You were living a lie and Nadia had no right to do that to you. I wanted to make things right for all of us, you included.”
“Well for some reason that’s hard to believe, Zoë. I think there’s only one person in this room you really care about and it’s not me.”
“Please.”
“Go to hell.”
“Dylan?”
“And say hello to Nadia for me when you get there.”
She left.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
“You didn’t have to follow me home, Bree.” Steven threw his keys on the living room table. “I’m fine.”
“Well convince me you’re fine because I don’t believe that you can be.”
He stretched out of his blazer. “It’s been a long night and I just wanna go to bed.”
As if he could sleep.
“You can’t pretend this doesn’t affect you.”
“What am I pretending huh?” He threw his blazer on the couch. “I just wanna go to bed and get some rest. Would you please leave me alone?”
“No.”
He got the remote and sat down. “I’m not in the mood to argue with you.”
“Well I’m not leaving until we talk.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. Zoë’s the killer.” He shrugged. “And?”
“And you cared about her.”
He flicked through channels.
“Steve.” She sat beside him. “I’ve been through something similar to this myself remember?”
“This is nothing like you and Simon Watts.”
“You’re right about that.” She adjusted the pillow behind her back. “I killed Simon.”
He crossed his arms.
“And even though I know it was what I had to do, it doesn’t make it any easier to live with. I cared about Simon the same way you care about Zoë. That’s what makes it so hard to get over.”
“Maybe we’ll never get over it.”
“Maybe not.” She laid her head back. “But one thing we can do is make sure we don’t try to do it alone. I’ll always be there for you, Steve. We’re friends despite anything else.”
“It just doesn’t even feel real. I know she confessed and I know she’s the killer but it just doesn’t seem real.”
“That’s how I felt about Simon.”
“I feel so ashamed because I still care about her.”
“Of course you do. You can’t expect your feelings to just shut off. There’s nothing wrong with caring. What would be wrong is you letting this eat you up when it was beyond your control.”
“If I feel this bad can you imagine how Dylan’s feeling?”
“Ooh.” Brianna crossed her legs Indian-style. “She didn’t deserve any of this. No one does.”
“You know what really bothers me? All this makes me wonder how much we know about our own families.” He took off his shoes. “Look at all the shit Nadia was hiding. No one had a clue of what she’d done not even the people closest to her. Can you imagine how Dylan feels? How it would feel to learn that your entire life has been a lie and that your mother could do something so horrendous?” He touched his stomach. “Makes me wanna hurl right here.”
“I know I shouldn’t feel like this but a part of me believes Nadia got what she deserved. I know that Zoë did a horrible thing but what Nadia did…” Brianna shook her head. “In a way it was worse. She contributed to the pain so many people had gone through for years.”
“You think our parents could be hiding stuff from us too?”
She pulled tiny threads off the couch. “Not something like this.”
“But how would we know? How do we really know our lives aren’t lies too?”
“We just know.”
“Like Dylan just knew?”
Dylan dotted dark blue paint over the yellow and red stripes on the canvas. She’d been painting since they got back from the station. Her arms should’ve fallen off by now but she wasn’t even sore. She didn’t feel anything. Numb inside and out.
She wanted to jump into her paint and swim over the canvas. Get lost in something she’d created. Escape.
“Dylan?” Bruce’s fingers crawled up her arms. “It’s almost four in the morning.” He nuzzled his face in the back of her neck. “I thought you’d gone to bed already.”
She almost broke her paintbrush in half.
“Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.”
What did he expect her to say? That she didn’t feel like any human would to find out their mother had bought her like a piece of furniture and created some fake existence to protect her disgusting secret?
She trickled brown paint at the bottom of the picture. She did her best work when she wasn’t aiming for a specific direction.
“I know this is hard for you but you can get through it.”
“I feel like a fool.” She dipped her thickest brush in white paint.
“You’re not a fool. How the hell could you know about Zoë or Nadia?”
“Others knew. Maybe I just didn’t pay attention.”
“What are y
ou talking about?” He yawned. “No one else knew until the cops found out.”
“I’m talking about what Nadia did.” She flicked the thick brush in water. “It hurts to even say it. Remember I always said I couldn’t understand why Clay hated me so much?”
“Clay was an abuser and a drunk. He didn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“That’s what I thought.” She added purple to the painting. “That’s what Mom let me think but she knew the truth. Clay didn’t hate me. He hated her for what she did.” She glared at the painting. “Clay knew, Bruce. I know he did. She couldn’t have held that in from everyone. She didn’t tell her family, not even Aunt Jas. But I know Clay knew.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He used to look at me with such disdain and I’d sit around and wonder why. Now I know.”
“Okay that’s enough.” He took the brush. “You can’t paint your problems away.”
“Sure I can.” She picked another brush.
“No you can’t.” He took the other one. “These issues are gonna still be here for you to deal with. You can’t run from everything, Dylan.”
She dripped paint on the carpet. “Shit.” She sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He kissed her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. No one could’ve known what Nadia or Zoë did.”
“How could they do this to me, Bruce?” She snuggled in his arms. “How could two people I loved so much hurt me like this?”
“Shh.” He patted her head. “If I could take it away I would.”
“What do I do? How the hell can I go back to living a life after all this? I don’t even know who I am now.”
“Course you do. You’re the same talented, loveable, beautiful and passionate woman you’ve always been. The woman I love with all my heart.”
“I’m not so sure I am.”
“You are but you can’t run from things anymore. That’s all you do.”
She sat on the stool by his magazine rack. “You telling me you could deal with this any better? How could you possibly know how this feels?”