She screamed in agony as he twisted her back to him, holding the blade right up in the groove of her neck.
“Donny. DONNY, I know this house, I-I-I…” she stammered. “I know when they’re not home, I know where they keep everything. Lots of antiques, a-and jewelry and shit.”
He laughed in her ear and pressed the blade into her skin, slicing through her like she was made of paper.
“No more fairytales,” he bit out.
She squeezed her eyes shut and visualized the brand new TV the Matthews had purchased a few months back. It wasn’t worth twenty grand, but it was a start, just a little something to appease Donny until she could think of what to do. Hell, she’d become a whore. She’d strip. She’d go back to selling drugs, anything to stay alive for Lilah.
The blade cut deeper and she felt the rush of blood to her head, pounding with adrenaline and self-preservation.
“WAIT,” she pleaded as heavy tears slid down her cheeks. “PLEASE. PLEASE. I’ll show you. This house right across town. They’ll be gone tomorrow, I swear! They have good stuff, Donny. Good stuff.”
The pressure of the knife eased up and she inhaled quick, deep breaths.
“We can go first thing tomorrow. I know exactly where they keep the spare key,” she promised. “It’s a clean job. Super clean job. In and out.”
Donny moved the blade and shoved her away. She collided with the edge of the table and groaned as she slid to the ground, sobbing with the relief of getting to live another day.
Donny bent down, edging her chin up with his meaty fingers.
“Elaine, Elaine, shh,” he soothed before his tone turned darker. “Stop fucking crying,” he snapped.
His grip tightened on her chin, digging painfully into her skin. She forced back tears and blinked up at him.
“Tomorrow is your last chance,” he said, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. “Got it?”
She nodded, swallowing down her sobs so he wouldn’t yell at her again.
He stood and turned toward the door, and then thought better of it and turned back for her. He pointed the blade at her mouth and his thin lips twisted into a sardonic smirk. “I was going to make it quick and painless, but I want you to know right now: if you’re wasting our time with this, I’m going to take my time slicing that pretty face of yours.”
He laughed, closed his switchblade, and waved the guys out of her apartment.
Chapter Forty-Three
Chase
I was about to rip us apart. I knew that by delving into the truth about our mothers’ deaths, I was unraveling her world, but I had to pull the string.
“Where was your mom that day, Lilah?” I asked again.
“She was out. I don’t know. I never learned all the details.” Her gaze shifted back and forth between my eyes as she tried to process the muddled memories in her head. “Why are you doing this?” she asked as tears collected in the corners of her eyes.
I tried to stay calm. My temper raged through me but I couldn’t yell. I had to be the calm one.
“She was with them, Lilah. She was the one who let them into our house.”
“Stop.”
I shook my head. The anger was building in my chest, gripping its way around my throat.
“My mom wasn’t supposed to be home,” I explained. “She was supposed to be at the school carnival, but she ran home for a ladder. Your mom thought they could break in really quick, but that didn’t happen.”
“Why are you doing this, Chase?” Lilah asked, sorrow seeping through the rage in her eyes.
“She never even tried to stop them!” I yelled.
“Shut up Chase! SHUT UP!” Lilah screamed. Her tough exterior started to strain and crack. “You don’t know what you're talking about!”
“She watched her best friend die and she was too cowardly to do anything about it.”
“You’re a LIAR!” she screamed, gripping her fists around my shirt like she wanted to rip it from my body.
“They strangled my mom and left her for dead,” I said as I watched her face.
Her body collapsed against mine. She fell forward and slammed her fists into my chest. Over and over again, she hammered against my chest like a drum. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her up and trying to be strong enough for the both of us. It was useless. I tightened my hold around her elbows so she couldn’t move. She tried to claw free of me. I was a human punching bag and Lilah was a wrecking ball.
“Why Chase? Why?” she sobbed.
She kept mumbling into my shirt as she slipped further away from me. Her body stayed right where it was, but I was losing her. My Lilah. She’d always pushed her misplaced anger onto me. Now, she’d forever blame me for being the person to bring the truth to light, for ruining what little respect she still held for her mother.
That blame I could live with. That blame was something I could bear.
Chapter Forty-Four
August 2013
Blackwater, Texas