Page 141 of Deliverance

“Then your little lesbian lover dies first,” he says, pulling a gun out from his suit pocket, holding it at Bridgette’s head.

I step to move in front of her when he cocks the hammer back, forcing me to throw my hands up.

“Easy, easy.”

My brain runs through scenario after scenario of how to get us both out of this, but every time, I come up short.

“I’ll give you everything you want, but you have to let Bridgette go first.”

Thomas laughs. “Nice try, little girl. See, that won’t quite work for me. She seems to have a big mouth. She’d no doubt be on the phone with the police the instant she crossed over that threshold,” he says with a shake of his head. “Reminds me of that little bitch, Sewall.”

“Maryia?” I question. “You know her?”

Thomas laughs, shaking his head. “I was told you were quite bright; looks like your mother exaggerated. Know her? Sweetheart, who do you think hired her?”

What.

“Well, it wasn’t so much hiring as it was threatening her little sister who’s battling cancer. She needs a life-saving surgery and I’m the only person that can provide it. The Sewall household has all but fallen into destitution. Take this…residence for instance. It’s practically unlivable.”

This is Maryia’s family home?

“Her family went bankrupt trying to keep up with her sister’s disease. They moved into the city and left Maryia to try and secure a husband. I found her first, though.”

“So…what? You paid her to be my girlfriend? Or threatened her so her sister would live?”

Thomas nods from side to side. “That’s simplifying it, but yes. Essentially.”

“So, she wasn’t psycho obsessed with Maggie. She was just trying to save her sister,” Bridgette says with furrowed brows.

He shrugs. “Not sure. Why don’t you ask her yourself? Maryia, dear. Could you come out here and clear something up?”

I wait for several seconds, but she doesn’t come. What the fuck? This goddamn piece of shit has been fucking with my life before I was even born and clearly continued to do so afterwards. He planted someone to be my girlfriend?

“She’s always so damn defiant,” he hisses. “Go,” he says, waving the gun at Bridgette and me to walk in front of him and my mother.

Slowly, we creep through the house before stopping in the living room. A sharp gasp rips out of Bridgette, and I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. My brain has a hard time processing what my eyes are so vividly seeing.

Maryia is there, sitting on the couch, head rolled back, body stiff as a board, with a slight odor beginning to waft off her. There is a single bullet hole in the side of her head and my eyes trail to see a bullet lodged into the wall to her right.

Oh my fucking god.

“She was useless to me after she tried and failed to not only acquire the account information herself, but to keep you at least entertained and away from Bridgette. The poor thing,” he says with a faux look of sadness. “She was so distraught about learning that her girlfriend had been sleeping with her stepsister that she killed herself. Quite tragic. At least, that’s what the police will deduce after reading the text messages she sent to Harry Brenton yesterday morning.”

Oh my god. The times I caught her snooping through my phone. Her insane jealousy. Her cryptic words as she held the knife to her throat.“I can’t fail.”If I left her, she would be useless, and Thomas would dispose of her and her family. She had to stay relevant. To find answers. Holy fuck.

“Looks like you’ve thought of everything, Thomas,” Bridgette says.

“I helped!” My mother butts in like she wants credit.

Thomas silences her with a sharp look before smiling at Bridgette.

“Thank you, I certainly did try.”

“Only question is, what are you going to do with us? Father, daughter, and stepdaughter disappearing in the matter of forty-eight hours? That’s sure to tip off even the dullest cop,” she challenges.

He nods, frowning. “I suppose it would. We will just have to operate under the story that you two ran away together, living happily ever after. See, look at that. I’m even giving you disgusting abominations a happy ending.”

“You won’t shoot us,” Bridgette says as she takes a step closer. “Not if you want this all neat and tidy with a pretty bow. Extra bullet casings, gunpowder residue. No one will believe the bullshit lie you just spun.”

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