Page 119 of Sinister Legacy
“Of course.”
“I did something terrible.” Dread gnaws at my insides. I hand her my phone. “It’s better if you watch it. It’ll make sense.”
There’s a slight tremble in her fingers. She presses play on the video and watches, horrified, as Chris and Miles abuse me.
“Oh, my God,” she whispers, pressing a hand over her mouth. Lowering it again, she looks at me. “Are you okay?” She must regret the words, because she hurries to add, “I’m sorry, of course you’re not okay.”
“When I woke up,” I reply as she pulls me into her body, “they were still there, and I…”
“You what?” Her voice is equally weak. I think she knows where this is going.
“They’re dead.”
Her eyes fall shut, and she holds me closer. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I’ve made a mess of everything. My mom… She kicked me out. I have nowhere to go.”
“It’ll be fine,” she reassures me. “You can stay with me.”
“Their bodies. The evidence…”
Madison shushes me, rocking us side to side. “We’ll get it sorted. Together. This is what friends are for. We stick up for each other. No matter what.”
My trembling finally starts to ease off, and my breathing regulates, so she untangles herself from me and walks over to her car.
Opening the trunk, she lifts out the bottle of gasoline she keeps spare in case of emergencies that generally involve not getting to a gas station in time, but I think this classifies as an emergency, too. “Let’s grab the bodies and put them in Chris’s car.”
It turns out that dead bodies are not so easy to move. They’re heavy, so it takes both of us to finish the job. Madison doesn’t question why all of Chris’s fingers are gone or why I stabbed him in excess of thirty times. She asks no questions at all.
But I think she gets it.
He touched me when I was drugged up.
He tried to rape me.
Chris deserved what he got.
We place them both in the car and pour the gasoline over their mutilated bodies, the seats, the dashboard, and the doors.
Everywhere.
When the bottle is empty, Madison puts it back in her trunk and returns with a yellow lighter with a smiley face motif.
Pinning her eyes on me with a secretive smile on her lips, she strikes it, the sound loud in the brooding silence of shared secrets that thickens the air. The flame flickers wildly between us. I step back as Madison lights up the gasoline trail leading to the car. It shoots across the damp ground, despite the snow, and the car is soon aflame, a great cloud of smoke rising into the air.
We watch it burn and crackle.
Madison’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently. The stench of burning flesh, melting plastic, and polyester fabric fragrances the cold air. “We’ll never tell a single soul about this.”
I rest my temple on her shoulder through her puffer jacket. “I’m sorry I dragged you into my messy life.”
“Are you kidding me? This beats whatever mundane shit I had planned. Maybe it’s not what I would envision when I think about an exciting day trip with a friend, but at least you’re full of surprises.”
“You don’t think I’m sick? For what I did?”
The fingers. The stabbing.
“No,” she replies, bringing our joined hands up to her mouth and pressing a tender kiss to the back of mine, letting her soft lips linger for a brief moment. “I think you’re brave.”
