Page 73 of My Girl
The lights from the house, from the candles by the ouija board, from the parking lot lamps—all of it grows until his leathery face gleams.
My brain fills in the gaps, conjuring the real Crave.
Crave killed my father. I’m the daughter of one of his victims. And I’ll never be able to escape that.
Crave rests the blade of the ax against my neck, the pressure tickling me. He could kill me right here, right now, chopping off my head in front of everyone. He’s likely considering it. Maybe he knows he’d be better off if he killed me too.
But I could also spin around and swipe that mask off of his face once and for all and expose his true identity. There would be so many witnesses. Someone would be able to identify him, and I’d have a face to attach to my videos. I could reveal him to the world.
He knows I have that power. That’s why he’s drawn to me.
Neither of us stops. We keep fucking. There’s more power in keeping Crave to myself, using him like he uses me. We’re each other’s victims and perpetrators, and I won’t let that go. Not yet.
“You killed him,” I say softly. “You killed Michael Hall.”
Chapter24
Crave
“I know you did it,”Rae whispers, her eyes filled with lust.
That takes me over the edge.
Each spasm of my cock brings me back down to reality.
I had a plan, and my hungry cock refuses to let that plan go into action.
Her lips are open, her eyelids heavy. I settle the ax on the ground.
“What are they doing, anyway?” someone asks.
“Is this part of the show?”
“Let’s get back to the séance,” a shrill voice says. “Maybe the ouija board will tell us why they’re here.”
The voices mumble, losing interest in the two of us now that the ax is on the ground. I pull out of Rae. She fixes her nightgown, sits on the executioner’s stone, and waits for an explanation. For me to confirm or deny her accusation. I buckle my belt.
We don’t say a word.
I walk into the desert until I can’t see Rae or the house anymore. It’ll be a bitch to hike back, but it’ll be worth it to avoid the rest of the guests…and her.
I was supposed to kill her tonight. The fantasy was to do it in front of everyone. Logically, I planned to wait until everyone was gone so that there would be no witnesses. Another murder to sweep under the rug. Another victim that disappears into the vast desert.
Then Rae formally accused me of killing her father, and the plan was off.
A headache pulses in my skull. I peer over my shoulder, back at the town. I imagine she’s sitting on that boulder, staring off into the distance, convincing herself she can still see my speck walking away.
She thinks she has her answer.
* * *
The next morning, I gather the DNA samples and their matching paternity tests. If I give them to her, she’ll either have to keep fucking me, or she’ll have to kill me.
Part of me is thrilled by that latter option. With her calculated nature, she may even get away with it.
Who are you kidding?my mother’s voice mocks me.You’re the one who needs to fuck or kill her.
Rae’s voice interrupts:You need me. Admit it.
