Page 108 of Crybaby

I don’t know how I thought I would feel, but I don’t think something like this ever ends. Yes, the people who hurt me got their karma, but this doesn’t make the pain go away. This just shows the world that I was stronger than whatever tried to beat me.

I survived.

They didn’t.

So the question is, what happens now?

Iwant a smoke.

That’s the only thing racing through my mind as I peer down at the mound of dirt covering a dead Buckets and a very alive Carson.

Burying someone aliveisas brutal as it sounds. But so is what he did to Darcie. He was the maestro in all of this, so it seems fitting it ends with him being worm food.

“Burying these dickwads is fucking exhausting,” I casually say, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my arm.

I’m covered in dirt and blood, but I never expected anything less.

Do I feel bad for burying my brother alive?

Sure, I mean, it was only an hour or so ago that I found out he was my full brother.

I thought that fact would have played a part in me not being able to kill him, but when I look at Darcie and see the girl I first met re-appear, I don’t regret a thing.

She’ll never be the same person, though. None of us will.

We’ve done some fucked-up things and left a trail of mayhem behind, but we fucking survived. The underdogs won.

Hoo-fucking-ray. The question is, what do we do now?

I honestly never thought we’d get here, as I was convinced I would be doing time, giving Darcie a real chance at life.

But here we both are.

“Where to now?” she asks, reading my mind.

“I’d go anywhere with you, baby,” I reply, interlacing our mud-covered fingers. “I heard Mexico is nice this time of year.”

“Ooh, did you say margaritas?”

I chuckle, my gaze still riveted on the pile of dirt which buries our secrets.

“Let’s bounce.”

I can’t believe we did it. Does this end with the bad guys actually riding off into the sunset and living happily ever after?

Darcie takes one last look at the grave, and I think she might want to say a few words.

She doesn’t.

She walks over to the truck and yanks Granny out. “Today’s your lucky day.”

There’s no reason to hurt her now. She can grieve her grandson at a proper burial site—everyone’s happy.

Tipping my face to the heavens, I inhale deeply because everything feels different. This feels like the first breath I’ve taken in years…but I soon discover…it’s to be my last.

“What did you do?” Darcie screams, and when I hear the unmistakable wails of sirens, I know that there’s one last plot twist for us yet.

A cell drops from Granny’s hand, and I’ll give it to the old fox. She outplayed us. This is what we get for underestimating an eighty-year-old batshit crazy grandma who knows how to work an iPhone, which was probably hidden in the pocket of her frilly apron. But when I see black SWAT vans follow the convoy of cop cars, I know it wasn’t just her.

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