Page 67 of Behind the Scenes
“Used rat poison,” I admitted with a bitter smile. “Put it in their disgusting pea soup. They loved that thing but spared me the torture since it was our ‘last family meal.’” I turned to her, meeting her gaze directly. “I watched them die. The panic that crossed their faces when they realized they were dying, how theybreathlessly chased me into the bedroom because they knew what I’d done, how my father used a knife to stab me a few times like maybe he wanted to take me with him. My whole life they had talked about death as being something grand. Something to bring us closer to God. But in that moment? They figured out there was nothing holy about choking on their own poisoned saliva, gasping for breath. And I loved every moment of it.”
I waited for the fear. For the disgust.
But there was none.
Fuck.
There was no denying it now. She was made for me. She wasmine.How could she look at me after everything I confessed and still think I had done the right thing?
“What about the cult? Did no one come find you?”
“I played dead when they came to check on me,” I admitted, remembering the grubby hands feeling my body. “I used the blood from the places my father managed to cut me. The cuts were shallow but bled enough. Then I gave them my best far-off, dead look and made sure to stop breathing. I spent days with their bodies until the police finally came.”
“Why did you stay?” she asked in a small voice.
It was an unexpected question, and it took me a moment to formulate my response.
“I knew it would look suspicious,” I said slowly. “And jail time wasn’t in my plans. I got the handcuffs my father kept in his nightstand for when he wanted me to keep still when he punished me, and I cuffed myself to the bed too.”
She nodded then, a small smile spreading across her face.
“So you played that part, and then you went on to become an actor. Are those things connected?”
“Maybe. What I’d always wanted was to prove them wrong,” I exhaled. “You asked me if my parents were disappointed. They can’t be because they’re dead, but they would be. Even then, they didn’t like the attention I brought. Didn’t like it when peoplecomplimented their beautiful daughter. So I made sure to pick the one thing they would fucking hate.”
“You did it out of spite,” she mused, and I let out a light laugh.
“Spite, and the amount of money I’d make if I did it well enough. Plus, no one would ever doubt my cover if I got famous enough. I mean, who would believe I was a serial killer? I’m so lovable. The point is, the public likes to make up their own stories. Their own assumptions. I just capitalized on them.”
Her breath hitched.
“People think being famous puts you in the limelight and therefore all your dirty secrets come to light, but in reality, if you play your cards rightandhave enough money, you can get away with murder. Even if the whole world sees it.” I ran my fingers down the side of her face, taking in just how beautiful she looked barefaced.
“Don’t I know it,” she teased.
“And what about you?” I asked.
“I’ve never put rat poison in my parents’ food, sorry to say.”
I traced the bags under her eyes, then the bridge of her nose, before my finger moved over her lips.
“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”
It was written all over her face.
“I’ve fantasized about it but figured it would be too much work. I mean, murder doesn’t go well with a law career.”
“On the contrary. I think they go perfectly together.”
She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, leaning into my touch.
“They never wanted a child; they wanted a maid. A cook. A mini person they could unload all their trauma and misery onto.”
My heart contorted, and blind fury roared through my veins. I tried not to let my mind make up images of what they put her through, as it would only send me spiraling.
“Did they hurt you?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“Not physically. But when I was young I knew I would have to get out of there. Some part of me wanted them to love me. I tried to do everything for them. But one day, I don’t know… I juststopped.Stopped wishing for them to change. Stop wishing I was better. Juststopped.And that’s when I realized I had the power to create the life I wanted for myself.”
