Page 8 of Twisted Lies

“It can’t be,” she gasps. “It can’t.” Voicing what I can’t. The only logical scenario is that Claire and I died in the blast and this is, in fact, purgatory. All this time we’ve been dead. That would make a hell of lot more sense than the scene in front of us.

Before either of us can move and process who’s in front of us, the shot rings out. Red hot anguish flows through my body. I glance down at my wound in confusion. If I were dead this should not hurt as badly as it does. My hand grasps my chest before I crumble to the ground. Rebecca stares at me with penetrating eyes, checking that her shot hit its target, before escaping into the darkness.

Alex appears and pulls Claire aside to check her for wounds. “Who did this?” he demands, putting pressure on the wound. “Claire, who did this?” he asks, louder this time. I want to correct him to call her Mia, but no words escape. Alex yells to the men who have appeared. “Find them. Now! Lily, call the doctor. Get him here.”

I find the one word I thought I would never use again. “Rebecca.” The past is calling again. I should have drunk more. Blackness circles, and slowly, the pain leaves as I fall to blissful emptiness.

* * *

LILY

I’m leaving my room when I hear the shot. Some days, that would be a familiar sound, but not tonight. Rushing downstairs, I see Kevin lying by the front door, blood rushing out. Alex tells me to call the doctor, but my feet won’t move. An invisible force glues them. My lips part, and I try to slow my breathing, but the more I try, the more it’s like I’m hyperventilating. The room fades away in the blink of an eye, and I’m back in my hell.

“Please. You don’t have to do this. Take what you want and leave.” I wake to my father’s pleading. Something’s wrong, but I don’t move. Instead, I’m frozen in my bed. I tug the covers around my body to hide, hoping that whoever is here won’t notice the small body under the blankets. But my princess blanket does not shield me as intended, and strong arms pull me from my bed. I don’t scream. At nine, I know that it will not help.

The man with the serpent arm tattoo drags me to the living room. My parents are tied to chairs, their backs against each other. My little brother is in the corner crying. They do not see the need to secure him. It seems fear is keeping him in place.

My mom’s eyes grow large as she sees me in the man’s grasp. “Please, they have nothing to do with this. Let them go. Please.” Her voice joins my father’s in pleading. The man shoves me to the floor by their feet. Both men wear all black, hiding their faces. The man’s serpent tattoo is like some of my father’s other friends. He says his boss made them get them.

“You should have stayed in your lane. You should never have spoken to them,” the man near my father says.

“Please. They took me in for questioning. That’s all. I said nothing. I swear. I would never betray him. Never. You have got to believe me. Let them go. Take me to Marcos and I’ll explain. He’ll understand.” His voice shakes and his right eye twitches. He’s lying. That’s his tell. If I know it, the men do as well.

“Oh, he understands. He understands everything. You signed your family’s death warrant the moment you opened your mouth.”

The man who grabbed me has yet to speak, but he moves to grab Frankie from the corner. “No!” I cry, standing quickly from the floor. The other man knocks me back down. Frankie continues to cry. His whole body is shaking. The man picks him up as if he weighs nothing, pulling him through the air before dropping him near our parents. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, the man pulls out a long knife and slits his throat. Blood pours out, covering the floor. The man releases my brother’s dead body, and it crumples to the floor. I see my parents screaming, fighting against their binds, but I can’t hear anything. It’s like I’m watching a silent film.

Pain pierces my side as the other man stabs me repeatedly before leaving me to die. They both turn to my parents. Still, they fight and yell. But it’s useless. We are all dead. More blood pools on the floor. It’s everywhere. The last thing I’ll see in this world is red. The last thing I’ll smell is the metallic smell of blood. The last thing I’ll hear is their pleading voices. The last thing I’ll taste is the blood from my tongue from where I had bitten it in panic.

I was wrong; the last thing will not be their pleading. Their pleading stops, leaving me with their laughter. Darkness takes me away from the pain. In relief, I hide there, waiting for the end, hoping that in a twist of fate, they will be waiting for me on the other side.

But they are not waiting for me. Instead, I awaken alone.

“Lily, call the doctor,” Alex shouts.How many times has he tried to invade my mind?I’m unsure.Taking a step back, I try and focus on the here and now.Doctor. I need to call the doctor. Kevin is shot. Doctor. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I call Connor’s doctor. When I first moved in, Mia had it programmed in the phone. She said that if I need a doctor for any reason, to call him day or night. After the first ring, he picks up. I can hear music and laughter in the background.

“It’s Kevin. He’s been shot. We’re at the house.”

“On my way,” he responds. I can hear him rushing away before he hangs up. More blood is spilling as Alex and Mia try to put pressure on the wound. Blood. Everywhere there’s blood; the two scenes intermingle in my mind. Reality keeps getting confused with the past. I need to help them. I need to do something, but I can’t separate the two.

“Lily, go get towels. Now!” Mia yells.

“No. He doesn’t have time.” He looks at two of the guards and says, “Help me get him in the car. Quickly, he needs to get to the hospital.”

“Alex!” Mia screams.

“It can’t wait, Mia. He needs to be seen now, or he’ll die.” Not waiting for his wife’s response, the men help pull his body from the floor.

“Lily, call Connor and tell him what’s happened. Have him send men here. Stay here with Becca. I’ll call once I have news,” Mia says, rushing after them. I nod even though I know she can’t see. My eyes circle back to the blood and I try to fight to stay in this moment. I force myself to turn around and do as Mia asked. I’ll call Connor. I will. I need another moment—just another one.

ChapterThree

REBECCA

A Couple of Days Later

For most people, when they wake from nightmares, it disappears a few seconds after they open their eyes. For a few select lucky ones, it takes longer to adjust to being awake. I’m one of the lucky ones.

I can still feel their hands on my body even after waking up. They linger. Their smell is in my nostrils, their paws gripping and taking what they want, their words repeating in my head. Repeating that it’s a dream does nothing to help because it was my reality once, not so long ago. The words are the only thing I have that can help at all. I try not to linger on how pitiful that thought is.

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