Page 87 of Black Bird

“Here,” she answered, handing Wren one of the halves in her hand. “It’s sweet. Promise.” Wren carefully took it, finally seeing Sarah’s eyes. There was no emotion there. No soul. Like the best friend she knew was no longer in that body. Sarah bit off a piece of her half, smirking while she chewed. Wren broke off a piece and put it into her mouth.

“It’s good.” Wren nodded, trying her best to figure out what the hell was happening.

Sarah’s arms stretched out to her sides, her head rolling to the side. “This, do in remembrance of me.” She laughed. Wren tossed the bread into the plate.

“Communion, Sarah? What about this shit is funny?”

“Did you ever pay attention when your mom and dad dragged you to church as a kid?” Sarah said, biting off another hunk of bread and chasing it down with her wine. “That whole part was always so sad to me. Jesus was such a good dude. He loved so much. He just wanted to have one last meal with his best friends before the bad guys came to get him … you know?”

“Sounds likeyoupaid attention,” Wren said, leaning her back against the couch behind her.

“You wanna know what the saddest part of it was, though?” Sarah asked, digging something out of her pocket. Wren’s stomach turned. Sarah tossed one coin after another onto the table. A quarter. A nickel … a dime. Their eyes met and Sarah stilled. “One of those men betrayed him.”

“Sarah …” Wren swallowed.

“Betrayed him in such a cruel way, too.” She rose onto her knees, bracing her hands on the table and leaned over to press a kiss to Wren’s cheek. “Betrayed him with a kiss.” She drew back, their faces close. Her voice was almost unrecognizable. “Isn’t that awful?”

“So, you didn’t ask me to come here because you wanted to talk about what happened with Kane.”

“No, friend.” Sarah withdrew herself and sat back down on her pillow. “Seems I’ve run out of people I can trust.”

“Well … you’ve certainly gone out of your way to call me out on it. So, what is it that you need to say?” Wren asked, crossing her arms.

“You told Brent to leave me?”

“I did.”

“Why would you do something like that?”

Wren huffed a laugh. “Because, Sarah! The prick drew you into this shit just touseyou. So his father coulduse you. While I didn’t knowthat detail then, I did know that your relationship wasn’t what you wanted, and you’d be too good of a person to end it yourself. After what you’d been through, you shouldn’t have had to bear thatcross.” She waved a hand over the bread on the table. “I’m not a Judas.”

“No, you’re right. You’re aPeter. You didn’t have enough faith in me to think I could handle anything on my own,” Sarah snapped.

“Like you’re handling this situation with a man that actuallydoeslove you?” Wren barked. “Look, you can call this whatever you want. If you wanna be pissed at me over what I said to Brent, then I guess I can live with that. I understand that you’re going through shit—”

“You don’t understandshit, Wren!” Sarah yelped, getting to her feet. “You don’t understand how it feels to learn that every single person in your life is either gone, wasn’t there to begin with, or left a knife in your fucking back!”

“I’ve done nothing …nothingbut be here for you,” Wren seethed, standing up. Her mouth went dry, and her eyes itched with unshed tears. “I’ve been here througheverything!I’ve taken days off work, I’ve slept at the hospital, I’ve killed … I’vekilledbecause of this, Sarah!” A tear escaped her eye. “And I’d do it all again if it meant that you were safe.” She sniffled, hurt and anger marrying each other beneath her ribs. Wren wiped her nose on her sleeve and plucked her jacket up from the arm of the couch. “Enjoy your bread,” she said sadly, swinging the door open and slamming it as hard as she could behind her as she skipped several steps before barreling out the lower door.

She couldn’t get into her car and drive off fast enough to explode with the built-up sobs that she’d buried in Sarah’s apartment. Once she was a few miles away, she rang him.

“Wren, I’m—”

“You fucking piece of shit!”

“I didn’t know.”

“I hope you get hit by a fucking bus, Brent.”

She hung up and threw her phone behind her into the back seat.

Dahlia sipped warmed blood from her wine glass as she sat naked in her claw-foot tub, Patrick rubbing lavender oils into her back. The glow from about fifty lit candles bathed her in light that made her appear far more beautiful than her rotten insides.

“Would you like to join me, pet?” she asked, a snake’s smile curling over her bare shoulder.

“You get real mad when I say no,” Patrick crooned.

She pouted callously. “That hurts. I would have thought by now that you were quite enjoying the life I’ve given you.”

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