Page 107 of Twisted Revelations

51

Beverly

Reluctance had crept into my bones, but I returned to the bed and resumed our position, preparing to reveal to Luke the rest of my horrific past.

My body relaxed the moment we caressed as his caring warmth wrapped around me, just as much as his solid body. The pressure of his weight atop me gave strength to our connection. He was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I leaned my head down, brushing my nose against his before giving him a lingering peck on the lips.

I’d left the lamp on, unwilling to part from him for the few seconds it would take to turn it off. After another stolen kiss, I prepared to tell him secrets I’d only shared with two others. Was I making a mistake? Was I being too quick in trusting Luke? Was I being naïve? I didn’t believe I was and prayed my instincts were right.

He stroked my cheek with a tender touch, stirring my gaze to his. “I’d never betray your trust, Beverly. Never,” he stated with an assuring tone that eased the reluctance which had so quickly crept back into my mind.

“Once Laura and I became close with Megan and found out what was being done to her, we became more determined to start executing the things we were planning. Laura came up with the idea of taking care of the easiest problem first. It would also be the test we’d need to prove we could go through with our plans.”

I can’t believe I’m telling him this.

“We snuck into Laura’s old apartment one night. It was after two in the morning, a time Laura was sure the man that had been introduced as her Uncle Dennis would be too drunk to stop us. He’d remained in their old apartment after her mother died. Laura was sure that he was the one that had given her mother the hot-shot of drugs that had killed her. We had to have been the noisiest killers on the planet. My father had given me three custom made switchblades, and we each had one. Three thirteen-year-old girls, standing around Laura’s uncle with knives aimed at different parts of his body.

“As soon as Laura said, “Fuck it” and raised the knife, I stopped her, suggesting we get him off the sofa because of the blood. She marched into the bathroom and yanked the shower curtain from the last three rusty rods they were barely clinging to. We laid the curtain out on the floor and dragged the sleeping man off the couch. He fell onto the floor, landing on his side and on top of the dirty shower curtain. He stirred, and we held our breath until his snoring commenced.”

The flashing of the digital clock caught my eye. It was nearly the same time of night as it had been when we’d snuck into our first murder scene.

“Using what my father had taught me, I pointed out the area of his neck Laura should stab and the area in his leg for Megan. At the time, I didn’t know I had Laura aiming at his carotid artery and Megan aiming at his femoral artery. All I knew was what my father had taught me. I was at his side, aiming for the area that would allow me to slide the blade between his ribs and deflate his lung. When Laura raised her knife, so did we. She counted down. Three, two, and at one we all stabbed, no one chickened out.”

I paused, waiting for Luke’s reaction. When none came, I continued.

“Laura’s uncle jumped up, eyes as wide as two plates, scratching at his neck that gushed blood. His breaths shot out in loud rasps as he struggled to breathe. His leg convulsed as a wet stain started to spread like he’d pissed himself. I didn’t know if it was shock that kept him standing, or that we’d hit the right spots, but he remained there scratching at his neck, eyes scanning our shocked faces, the bloody knives clutched in our hands. It was sad we’d all experienced enough death that witnessing the man dying wasn’t as frightening as I’d imagined it would be.”

Uncertain about continuing, I glanced down at Luke. “Are you ready to run yet?”

“Never,” he replied before his warm lips brushed the tip of my nose.

“I won’t go into much detail about how we got rid of Uncle Dennis, but let’s just say, three knocked-kneed teen girls dragging a bloody body down two flights of stairs wrapped in a shower curtain wasn’t done with any finesse. Laura was so frustrated at the final cleft of the stairs she sat the man on the edge, sat on her boney bottom, and kicked him over. Megan and I were so tired that we didn’t even protest Laura’s strategy. We stood our crazy asses there and watched that man’s body tumble down the stairs.”

Luke’s body shook, calling my attention. I glanced down at him. “Lucas Bradshaw, I know that you are not laughing.”

This time his chuckle was audible. “I’m sorry. It’s the imagery of you guys kicking around a dead body.”

My smile surfaced before I continued, surprised at my ability to share with him so freely.

“I have no idea how we didn’t get caught getting that body to the dumpster, but we ended up spending most of the rest of that night cleaning up the trails of blood we’d left behind. A few weeks later and after the uncle’s body had arrived at the landfill, we planned for the man who had killed my father. His name was Greg Bernard. I’d been stalking the man for a year, so I knew everything: where he hung out, his work route, and who he bought his crack from. I never knew hate could grow so strong as the hate I had for that man. He’d taken the one good thing in my life.”

Every time my voice would crack, or I’d get to what saddened me the most, Luke’s hold on me would tighten, reminding me he was there.

“We snuck into his house. Back then it was easy to get into people’s houses. He thankfully lived alone in a run-down shotgun house, about a mile from where I lived with Ms. Violet. We snuck into a window he’d left cracked at the back. With no screen on the window, we used the items on the back porch to lift the window, prop it open, and climb in. From knowing his schedule, I knew he’d be home at twelve-thirty. We sat around in that man’s dark living room eating his fruit cocktails, a surefire way to tell that we were turning into three sociopaths.”

Again, Luke’s body shook as he fought to keep from laughing at the words I’d chosen. He could laugh all he wanted, we were all sociopaths, functioning ones, able to flip our consciences on and off.

“Like clockwork, the man arrived home as I’d predicted. He always went to the bar first and got shitfaced drunk. He came into the house and slammed the door, talking and cursing. He kicked off his shoes and took his usual spot on the couch. We’d just been sitting there before he got home, but it didn’t occur until afterward he might feel the warmth we’d left behind. Not to mention, my greedy behind had left my empty fruit can on the end table.

“Laura and Megan were behind the sofa, and I was stuffed into the living room closet, breathing in his smelly clothes and shoes. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for us to start hearing his loud snores. We stood over him, much like we’d stood over Uncle Dennis, except this time we didn’t stab him. This time, we put my plan into effect and tied him up so well, it would take weeks for him to pick out the knots.

“Like the little killers we’d become, we took the alcohol in the house and started pouring it all over him. Megan had suggested we use rags to tie him with so that the fire would burn them and make it seem like the fire was accidental. During our alcohol bath, he woke up. He did his best to get at us, cursing us out, and yanking at those ropes and rags with such rage, he would have killed us if he’d gotten loose.”

A quick glance down at Luke showed his eyes glaring at me expectantly. Was he enjoying listening to my pathway to insanity?

“Once he was soaked, we surrounded him, waiting until he’d stopped cursing. His face dropped when I revealed who I was, and I’d been there the night he’d shot my father for the fifty-seven dollars he’d taken from the register. He observed how we’d tied him up and how soaked in alcohol he was and started shaking his head at the realization. Laura poured a trail of alcohol to the kitchen doorway, and I struck the match while he screamed, begged, and pleaded. We didn’t run or hide from the sight of him screaming and yelling as the flames blazed around him, so big and bright we had no choice but to get out of the house.

“We ran through three backyards and was chased by a dog before we took a dirt alley to the street. We circled back to the front of the house where a crowd had formed, but no one attempted to go in and save him. By the time the fire truck arrived most of the house was gone. Are you still with me? Still think I’m good-girl-Beverly after that?” I questioned, glancing at Luke.

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