One of Us Is Dead(86)

I moved slightly to make some noise upstairs.

“Bryce, is that you?” Her voice was light again. She began to slowly walk up the stairs, feeling around for furniture and anything else that might be in her way. She checked the main bedroom first, and then the second room. She finally saw the bait on the bed. She was only steps away from the spot where I needed her to be.

“Ah, there it is,” Olivia said.

My eyes widened.

She was there.

I held the bat up high and swung as hard I could, cracking right into the back of Olivia’s head. She fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, hard and loud. I wasn’t sure if her skull had cracked or the bat had.

A light flicked on behind me.





83

Shannon the night of the housewarming party


“Holy shit. Well, I’ll be damned. You did it,” I said, patting Crystal on the back and looking down at Olivia sprawled out on the floor. “Honestly, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Crystal looked over the bat. She ran her fingers along the fresh crack at the end of it and then set it down. She took a deep breath and then another. Her face was flush. Her eyes were wide. I knew she was tough when she needed to be, when she needed to defend herself, but this was different—or maybe it wasn’t so different after all.

“I didn’t think so either,” she said, letting her shoulders fall.

I pushed my heel into Olivia’s side, gently moving her. She didn’t stir.

“Now what?” Crystal asked.

“We have to move her. We can’t leave her here.”

“Is she dead?” Crystal bit her lower lip.

I bent down and placed my hand on the side of her neck. Her heartbeat was faint, but it was there. Olivia was like a cockroach, a pest you could never truly stamp out. “No, she’s still breathing.”

“Shannon. Crystal,” a voice whispered from downstairs. “Where are you guys?”

“Up here,” I called out.

Footsteps ascended the stairs and in walked Keisha. She looked at us and then down at the floor where Olivia was lying. “She looks so much better like that,” Keisha quipped.

“What, you mean . . . unconscious?” Crystal asked.

Keisha nodded and then bent down and picked up Olivia’s legs. “Grab her top half. Hurry, we don’t have much time.”





84

Jenny


the night of the housewarming party

Olivia stirred as Keisha and I dragged her body toward a shipping container in an empty truck yard. There was a blue tarp underneath her to make it easier on us. Her body crunched over the gravel and dirt.

“How is she this heavy?” Keisha said, out of breath.

“Just keep pulling,” I said, hurling myself backward while I yanked on the tarp.

She moaned a little as we heaved her into the shipping container. After we got her body against the back, Keisha went out to the car while I waited for her to wake up. It was fifteen minutes of sitting with my back to the wall of the cold metal before she finally woke, completely disoriented, unsure of where she was. She attempted to stand but fell back to the floor. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Then she finally saw me, and reality set in for the first time in Olivia’s life.

“Jenny? What the fuck is going on? What happened?”

I just stared at the wall opposite me. Never acknowledging her. I was tired of answering to Olivia. We were all tired of her.

“Listen up. I know the other women eat out of the palm of your hand, but you’re nothing but the fucking help. Now answer me when I talk to you . . . you insignificant piece of shit. What the fuck did you do to me!” she screamed, putting her hand on the gash at the back of her head that Crystal had left behind.

I sighed. And began to laugh. She just didn’t get it.

“What the fuck is funny to you? You are going to start answering my questions or—”

“Or what?” I stood up, flashing Bryce’s gun.

She gasped but closed her mouth.

“I know what you did.”

She brought her bloodstained hand in front of her face and looked back at me.

“I’m sorry, Jenny. You weren’t supposed to be at the salon. It was just to scare you, to remind you that I made you.” I think it was the first time Olivia had ever been honest in her life.

I pointed the gun directly at her. “Do you still think you made me?”

She shook her head insistently.

I lowered the gun and took a step back. “Good.”

Olivia breathed a sigh of relief and tried to stand again. I raised the gun and turned off the safety.

“What the hell are you doing?” Her eyes were wide.

“Putting us out of your misery.” I aimed the gun at her.

She gasped, “Jenny, ple—” and before she could speak, before she could beg for her life, I fired off three shots. Two through her chest and one through her head. The bright-red splatters across her face and chest contrasted beautifully with the white skeleton bones of her costume. I gave Olivia her final touch-up, her beauty glow in her favorite shade one last time.

“Is it done?” Keisha called from outside.

I walked out of the shipping container and closed the door behind me. “It’s done,” I said.