Page 69 of Pure Killers

I sway. "You… you tampered with my carphone." All those calls that wouldn't go through. Only Dirk. Only the one she'd planned to take.

“It was only a matter of time before you figured out the pattern. I was hoping you would, hoping you’d be here in time to see.” She pouts towards Dirk, laying another bandage over his torso, above his belly button now. When she gets to his head, his nose... "He was so stirred up by you leaving those messages, saying you were on your way. Good of you to tell us. Now," she says, almost a lament as she smirks, tilting her head. "What to do with you? Thewife?"

I force my face to soften. "Anything you want. We can talk about it. I can tell you all you want to know about Caleb- my husband- just stop." The last word comes out as a half-sob. Deep down, I know reasoning with her is useless.

Olivia ignores me. "He had such plans for you, you know. We’d talk about them while he was inside me."

I bite my lip. At this moment, everything Caleb ever did, murder, lying, cheating apparently, it doesn't matter. Myopinion of him can't get any lower. All that matters is now changing this outcome. "What were the plans?" I ask.

She grins suddenly. "I waited a long time for your call. An ad in the paper, ‘roommate wanted’. The moment I found out you were going back to work. You couldn't afford all that he gave you on your own, after all. To be sharing a house with you… like he did. It was perfect.”

My body trembles. I watch her trace a finger across Dirk’s skin, leaving white smears down his chest, his abs. "Take me instead," I say. "I'm the wife, like you said. It’s what he would have wanted. What he planned."

Olivia pauses and stares at me, apparently considering this new offer. Dirk is mumbling, yelling through the tape again. Her attention draws to him. "You'll behave," she tells him, before ripping the tape off. "Or I'll make you two a matching set."

"Not her," he says immediately, voice hoarse. "I won't fight you anymore, I swear. Just let her go." His head sways slightly, like he’s having trouble keeping it up. How weakened is he? How close to dying ahead of Olivia’s schedule?

Olivia's smile widens, reminiscent now of a clown’s.

My fingers dig into the edge of the mattress as I edge forward. "Dirk don't…"

“Will you really behave?” She’s talking to him now, to my horror, applying more plaster as she does, his skin flinching as she lays the cold liquid over his chest. So high up now. Not far to go. "Just to save her?” She tilts her head, leaning close, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to lunge. But he doesn’t. “Is that why you wouldn’t fuck me? You're holding out for her?" I can see him fighting the urge to recoil.

"Whatever you want, I won't fight," he repeats, ignoring her question. "You only need one of us."

"Dirk, I'm sorry." I'm sobbing the words out, tears running down my face. My shoulder aches in bursts, sharp pains downmy arm, dislocated probably. I drag myself to the edge of the mattress. "For everything I said." I don't know why it seems important now. "You could never have been…"

"It’s okay, El," he says with admirable calm, and when I meet his eye over her head, it’s as though it’s just us two, for this one blessed moment. "I would always have done this for you."

"No!" Olivia shouts suddenly, shaking her head so vehemently that her hair whips from side to side. "She'shis. You can't have her." She starts working faster. The plaster is up to his armpits, turning pink again where it mixes with half-dried blood over his collarbone. He tilts his chin away, the muscles in his jaw bunched. The fear spikes in his eyes, but that stays the only movement he makes. He keeps his promise. Olivia starts to hum as she sweeps the brush around his throat. When she gets to his face, his hair, I'll have to watch him die.

I can't keep the panic back as that reality hits, my breath coming in gasps. The pain is an echo in the back of my mind. Somewhere in the depths of the factory, something clangs. Olivia pauses, eyes narrowing in that direction. Then she appears to shrug it off. "It’s been so long since we had girl talk, Eleanor." With a conspiratorial grin back at me, she goes on. "You've been getting a midnight visitor… who was it?"

"Fuck you, crazy bitch," I growl. She’s painting his chin, the line of his jaw. My body is telling me to lie down, curl up and be forgotten.

“Oh, is this about dear Caleb? He talked about you, you know…”

“He talked about you, too,” I cut her off. It’s an outright lie, but it’s all I’ve got, and the words get the reaction I’d hoped for. Her gaze snaps to me, the brush hovering in mid-air.

“I didn’t know what else he was showing you, but I knew about his side piece.” There’s as much venom in the words as I can push through my own fear. Her eyes darken. I go on, pushingfurther, twisting the knife. “He wanted things I didn’t want to do. I encouraged it, and he’d get out his… other needs, then come home to me, his real lover.”

She is staring at me still, utterly motionless. It’s not working. She can see through it, can hear the shake in my voice. But then, her lower lip trembles. “You’re lying.”

I laugh, a low, choked sound. “He’d always shower after his visit to you. Said he wanted to wash the filth off.”

“Stop it, you’re lying! He loved me, respected me! I was the only one who saw him…”

“He said you must have daddy issues, to look at him all doe-eyed even while he…”

“ARGH!!” She charges at me before I expect it, forgetting the gun on her hip as she crashes into me, all biting nails and thin, choking fingers.

I yell as the impact jars my punished body, but I know this is my only chance. If I can fight the pain for long enough… if I can just get that gun. She’s kneeling up in front of me, fingers tangled in my hair. I don’t give myself time to brace, jerking myself into a twist so that my shoulder rams into her stomach. At the same time as a choking sound jars from her, I feel the crack deep in my shoulder, and know that my shoulder has popped back in. The pain is sharp and sudden, and my arm is still weak and slightly numb, but it works, and I use the momentum to roll and gain the upper hand.

Then we're in a tangle on the floor. She finally remembers the gun but it goes flying out of her hand as I frantically try to pin her from chasing it. Her fingers find my shoulder and dig in. I scream. Dirk's chains rattle, his voice joining the cacophony. Olivia gets on top and straddles me, her hands around my throat. She's so strong for the skin and bone she appears to be, with a crazed look in her eye. Not my housemate, never just myhousemate. My hand flings out, fingers curling over the lip of something metal.

Gripping, I fling whatever it is that my hand lands on at her head. The can connects with her skull with a loud clang, white plaster coating one side of her face and pouring down her chest, splattering over me. I manage to scramble back while she's frantically wiping at her eye, clearing away the paint to see again.

My chest is heaving, the adrenaline not quite enough to make standing possible. The can is still hooked on my fingertips as I lean heavily on the wall, chest heaving. She's standing between me and Dirk. When her eyes cut to the gun, I know I can't make it there before her.

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