Page 91 of Little Liar
When he doesn’t respond, only glares, she scowls at me, then huffs and walks away.
I want to rip her apart.
When she goes to work tomorrow, I hope she gets hit by a damn truck and dies slowly.
“What happened?” Dad asks.
“Someone tried to kidnap me, and Malachi killed them. The man’s body is in the trunk, and we don’t know what to do.”
Dad looks at me, and I don’t blink, waiting for his lecture, waiting for him to call the cops or tell me how much of a headcase I am, but doesn’t do any of that.
He’s quiet for far too long, and I grow anxious. My hand sweats in Olivia’s, and I break eye contact and stare at the ground.
“We’ll need to dispose of the body and destroy any evidence.”
I look up with wide eyes.
Olivia covers her mouth on a sob and throws herself into him once more. She hugs him, thanking him over and over again while he rubs her back. His eyes lift to me, but I lower my gaze again so it’s fixed on my boots—which are covered in a dead man’s blood.
I have no right to ask for his help. I don’t deserve any of it. He’s the way he is because of me. I attacked him. I put him in a coma, gave him brain damage, and, ultimately, ruined his entire life.
I gulp and fist my hands.
Maybe Mom was right? Maybe if they didn’t adopt me, their life would be way easier. If fate was real, I would’ve found Olivia regardless of which family took me in, if any did at all.
“Do you have anywhere to hide him for now?”
I nod, but I don’t lift my eyes.
He follows behind me on the way home. Him and Olivia in his car while she drives, and I take the car filled with enough evidence to lock me up for the rest of my life back to the farmhouse. I have the guy’s phone, his wallet, and a random set of keys with a keyring of him and someone I assume is his wife.
I don’t feel bad.
He tried to take what belonged to me.
I pull in and reverse the car as far back as I can to the backyard—it’s dark now, and it’s starting to rain, but I have flashlights we can use.
Dad doesn’t blink at the home me and Olivia have been living in—as if he already knows. Olivia helps him out of the car and gives him his stick, then the three of us hunt for a flashlight while everyone stays quiet.
Olivia is about to find out a huge secret I’ve kept from her.
That I have bodies buried in the backyard.
Fuck, why am I nervous?
Dad being here doesn’t help. If I dig in the right place, they might not notice the other body bags. I’ve made more than enough bags to last a lifetime, and when I pull one out, Dad watches me in silence.
While Olivia showers, I lift the body from the trunk, stuff it into the bag, and tape it up. Rigor mortis is already setting in, so the guy is a bit stiff and heavy as I carry him to the yard and drop him.
Still, Dad doesn’t say a word as I start digging a hole. He doesn’t need to be out here with me. He could sit inside, sheltered from the storm, instead of all this awkward silence.
Rain is soaking my skin, saturating the blood and making it slide down my body. After twenty minutes, I have to remove my shirt from how hot I am—sweat coats my skin, mixing with the rain, and still, Dad watches me without saying a word.
It’s better if we don’t talk. We don’t like each other. There wouldn’t be anything to say, other than him asking me to leave Olivia and me telling him to fuck off.
My shovel hits something hard, and I swear when I notice the body I forgot to bag. It’s decomposed—been hidden in the dirt for about two months now, so it’s mostly bone.
I pause and stare, my lips flattening as I lift my gaze to my father.
