Page 71 of Twice as Twisted

“Make a wish.”

“I don’t know if I believe in that.”

“Me, either,” I admit. “But I always do it. Maybe if you wish for something that’s actually possible, it’ll come true.”

“Is that what you wish for?” she asks. “The impossible?”

“Every time.”

We walk back to the car, and I take her to the nicest restaurant in Havoc Harbor, where I let her order anything she wants from a menu on my phone. I can’t be seen sitting inside with her, of course. That’s too risky, even if no one is looking for her. The waitress might remember us. It’s much less likely that the people on the beach would be able to identify me, even the couple who spoke to us. And much less likely the police would be able to track down some random beach walkers than someone who comes to work here every day.

I go in to get the takeout, and we drive up the road past Mrs. Darling’s house to a lookout, where we eat sitting on the hood of the Lotus, looking down on the ocean. A sliver of moon hangs over the horizon like the blade of a sickle. I guess I’m the grim reaper tonight, harvesting one life.

While we sit there, a car cruises slowly by once, then twice. I look back over my shoulder, not surprised to see Mabel’s Volvo, pale in the scant moonlight. Of course they’re checking up on me. I don’t know which one of them is in the car. Maybe both. Either way, they’re making sure I go through with it. They don’t think I know what’s going on, but I do. This is a test.

I have to prove myself worthy of being the third corner of the triangle. Worthy of the two of them. Because the truth is, they’d be fine without me, a regular Sid and Nancy. They could be a couple. They don’t really need me. They just said that to be nice. If I want to be part of it, I have to do my part, prove I’m as ruthless as they are, that I can keep up and won’t fuck it all up like I do everything else.

I set aside my takeout container and take out the whiskey again. I’m stalling now, but I need some liquid courage. Sure, I’ve hurt people before, but mostly by accident. I’m not a killer. Unlike Baron, I don’t want to be, either. Suddenly, I’m pissed at him. Why do I have to do it? She’s his project. He picked her up. I wasn’t even around for most of the time he had her, and I’ve never fucked her. She’s his mess to clean up. And he’s always wanted to kill someone. This is his chance. Why is he making me do it for him?

Jane finally finishes her own food and puts all our trash back into the paper bag the restaurant gave us.

“Do you think I could have one more cigarette?” she asks.

I hand her the flask and take out my smokes, and we both light up again.

“Where are you from, anyway?” I ask, trying to distract myself before my thoughts can turn too dark. It’s not the demon edging his way to the surface this time. It’s the shadow, the ghosts, that dark cloud that followed me after Dad died, that still creeps back over the sky sometimes and blots out everything except doubt and bitterness.

“I’m from Arkansas,” Jane says, flicking at her cigarette.

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “I thought you were from Tennessee.”

Baron said she was hitchhiking, and he picked her up on his way. He didn’t say where. It comforts me to know it was before he even left the state, that he didn’t want to be aloneeither. Despite his seeming indifference, he’s been with me all his life too, since we shared our mother’s womb. Maybe it’s not so easy for him to be on his own after all. Maybe he really does need me.

“No,” Jane says. “Faulkner, Arkansas.”

“Have we met?” I ask. “Maybe fucked?”

“No,” she says, flicking an ash off her cigarette.

But I’m sure she’s wrong. That’s why she looks familiar. We must have hooked up at a party sometime over the past three or four years, when I was fucked up and she wasn’t emaciated and bald. Not that I’d have cared much even if she was, but I wouldn’t want anyone else to know that. I fucked hot girls because it proved I was hot, just like I’m doing this to prove a different point.

Far below, the waves crash on the shore, coming closer and closer to the cliffside as the tide comes in. I remember sitting up at the quarry with Colt, smoking and drinking whiskey with him on a different edge on a different night. If he’d just said yes when I told him we could be together, I wouldn’t be here now. I’d probably be in his bed right now, lying there with one sweaty leg thrown over his, having a post-coital smoke while watching some dumb shit on TV and drinking whiskey from this very flask.

I wouldn’t be sitting on a cliffside in the biting wind, wondering if I can do what has to be done. If I should just push Jane off the edge instead. Sure, her remains would be found sooner than if I follow Baron’s plan, and yes, the police would definitely notice her body is banged up more than it would be from the fall, but still. Their investigation would lead nowhere, and since no one is looking for her, they wouldn’t waste resources by keeping it open.

Like Baron said, no one cares about a mangy, stray dog. It’s best to just put it down.

It’s Colt’s fault as much as Baron’s. If he’d wanted me, everything would be different. But he didn’t, and now Jane has to die because of it.

I crush my cigarette out on the hood of Baron’s car with some satisfaction. “Let’s take a walk.”

Jane hesitates a long moment before she reluctantly slides off the hood. Maybe alarm bells are going off in her head. Maybe she’s realizing that was her last meal. It took her long enough. At least she’s smart enough not to argue while standing on the side of a cliff with a guy who’s big enough to punt her skinny ass off into the ocean.

If she’d been smart to begin with, I wouldn’t have to do this. What kind of girl is dumb enough to get in a car with a strange man? Now I’m stuck with the consequences of her stupidity, and Colt’s rejection, and Mabel’s jealousy, and Baron’s clinical detachment. It’s all their faults I have to do this. It doesn’t seem fair. I’m the only innocent party, and yet, I’m the one stuck with the dirty work. It’s like I’m being punished for being too nice.

“Where are we going?” Jane asks when we’ve crossed the winding road and entered the woods on the far side.

“I told you, we’re taking a walk.”

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