Page 138 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

“I heard you, but you don’t get it, do you? He’s dying and you’re next. All of you are going to die. You’re going to join Gran, isn’t that the stupid name you gave Eugenia? You’re going to die as easily as she did, or that moron Rory, or Cherise—that one was a surprise to both of us. She saw me, you know, right after I scared you at the mansion. Couldn’t let her get away with that.”

“Go to hell.”

“Funny, that’s where I think you’re going, sister.”

Cissy worked desperately to save Jack. “Sister?” she repeated, praying for the sound of the police breaking into the house. “You’re not my sister.”

“Same blood.”

“You’re a monster. You killed everyone related to you including your own mother. Why was that? Spring her from prison just to kill her? Because she gave you up? Is that it? Because she couldn’t love you?” Don’t antagonize her, a part of her brain warned, but Cissy couldn’t stop herself. Her nerves were frayed, her heart dying already at the thought of losing Jack, adrenaline pumping furiously through her system while B.J. wailed.

“I—didn’t…”

“What?” Cissy demanded, looking up to see a bit of confusion on Diedre’s face, a moment of hesitation. Diedre’s eyes clouded for a second. “Marla…No, I didn’t…” She raised the gun and aimed at Cissy.

This was it, Cissy realized. They were all going to die and poor B.J…. Oh, God, if that bitch harmed one hair on his head, she’d…She saw the knife. The one she’d dropped on the floor. Only inches from Jack’s body.

“You did, Diedre, you killed your own mother,” Cissy stated harshly.

“No!” Diedre was shaking her head, as if to clear her mind…

What was Cissy saying? That she’d killed Marla? Oh God, was that possible? Diedre couldn’t remember, couldn’t think, the roar in her head was deafening, the pain so tortuous that she gritted her teeth, had trouble holding onto the gun. Jonathan had said the same thing, and then there was the video, and she remembered, oh, God, she remembered pulling the trigger on that bitch who had given her up and borne another daughter. A daughter she’d kept. A daughter she’d loved and nurtured in…in this very house…this mansion…. No…that wasn’t right…it was the Cahill mansion where Cissy had grown up, the privileged daughter…wasn’t it?

“She loved me,” she said now and felt what?…Tears? Oh God, tears were running from her eyes.

Cissy didn’t wait. Without thinking she picked up the knife and rolled to the balls of her feet. Spinning low, gathering force, she slung the knife underhand straight at Diedre.

Diedre shrieked.

The slim blade slammed into her gut, sending her backward through the door. Shocked, her eyes suddenly clear, the gun in her hand wobbling slightly, Diedre fired.

White-hot pain exploded in Cissy’s side. She spun to the floor, could barely breathe. Blood flowed from the hole in her torso, hot and wet, but she didn’t care. She had to stop this madwoman before the bitch killed B.J., who was still sobbing.

Diedre stumbled onto the balcony. The fingers of both her hands grabbed at the knife in her abdomen. With a horrid sucking sound, she pulled the weapon free. Blood oozed from the blade as she stared dully at her wound.

Cissy struggled to her feet. Before Diedre knew what hit her, Cissy hurled herself toward her maniac of a half-sister. Together they fell against the fancy railing. Diedre’s back pressed into the heavy metal. The knife fell from her hand, slipping through the wrought iron, and falling two floors to clatter uselessly in the foyer.

Where the hell were the police?

Despite the blood running from her abdomen, Diedre fought wildly. She grabbed hold of Cissy’s wrist, twisted her arm so that she heard tendons popping. Blinding pain ripped through her. “You’re going to die, Cissy,” she hissed. “And you’re going to die tonight, and that little boy of yours, he’s going to be with me.”

“Leave B.J. out of this!”

“He’s what it was all about. Jonathan planned his conception long before you even thought of it.” She pushed harder, and pain screamed through Cissy’s shoulder.

“The police are on their way.”

“Too late for you and they won’t hurt me as long as I have him…”

“It’s over, Diedre. Give it up! Your plan failed. You can’t get the money now.”

“But I can get rid of you, and that’s worth it.” She gave Cissy’s arm another hard wrench. “You didn’t even know how lucky you were. Neither will your kid.”

Charged with injustice and fury, Cissy wouldn’t let her win. Couldn’t.

But Diedre was strong and determined.

With a violent twist, Diedre flipped them both around, and Cissy, bleeding, was bent over the wrought-iron railing. She sensed the century-old bolts give a little. She was weakening, and Diedre was stronger. Diedre, eyes glowing with victory, pushed hard and bowed Cissy over the railing so far that Cissy thought her back would break. The pain in her side burned hot, and she grabbed at anything she could, the top of the rail, Diedre’s hair, her neck.

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