Aaron: Book Three (Scars 3) (12 page)

She hurled the knife. It was flung with
impressive strength and hammered into the wall beside me.

“Nice. All that gym work’s been paying
off.”

“Shut up. Let’s get out of here. We’ve
got more work to do.” And with that she strolled past me, past the dead body on
the floor, and what could I do but follow?

One last thing. This was it and then we
were on a plane. Rachel sat beside me in the car, her head turned toward the
house.

Her mother was
home. The expensive car that her latest lover had bought sat parked out the
front.

“It’s not too
late to change your mind.”

She didn’t
answer me. From time to time she bit her lip, but that was the only action
betraying her nervousness. Who could blame her? It wasn’t every day she set out
to kill the woman who had given birth to her. And once she did that, there
would be no going back. Her mind would turn black with what she’d done, and
then, only then would she really be mine. Only then would she know what being
fucked up really meant…and I’d be the one to catch her. She’d lean on me. There
would be only me for that.

I nearly smiled.

Her mother
emerged from the house. She must have left something in her car. Rachel
straightened immediately, digging her nails into her palm as she caught sight
of her. Her mother’s hair was curled and it caught the sunlight as it bounced
against her naked shoulders. It was a warm day and she wore a halter top dress
that displayed her smooth skin and the swell of her breasts to perfection.
Whatever she was thinking about, she had a smile on her face. Her mouth was
painted red, and the color suited her. She leaned in her car window and her
dress swayed around her thighs.

“She looks…”
Rachel started and then she stopped again, shutting her mouth before opening
it. “She looks happy.” Her voice was raw.

Yeah. She did.
She appeared carefree and content like she didn’t have a worry in the world.

“She looks like
she doesn’t have a kid,” Rachel continued, staring at the woman. Suddenly,
Rachel seemed so young, sadness was imprinted on her face and she shrunk back
in the seat, small and hurt.

It took a full
minute of watching her mother. Someone had rung the woman and she stood
standing in the driveway, talking on her cell phone and laughing at what the
caller told her. She looked perfect. She looked like she had it all while
Rachel beside me looked like she was about to break. I imagined her cracking
like porcelain, piece by piece, a doll broken by being forgotten.

Her mouth
twisted and then she fumbled for the glove compartment where the gun lay. Her
hands shook and it took her a moment to get the compartment open.

I grabbed her
wrist roughly, without even thinking about.

Her eyes swung
to me. “What are you doing?”

“We’re not doing
this.” I turned the key and put the car in gear.

“We have to. You
said you’d help. You said that‒”

“I know what I
fucking said!” I pulled away from the curb and sped past the woman. “And I was
wrong, okay? I was wrong. There’s no coming back from this, Rachel. Once you do
this, you’ll be fucked up forever and I‒” I abruptly fell into silence as
I gripped the steering wheel.

“You what?”

I took a breath.
“And I don’t want that for you. I want you to be happy.” The ocean came into
view and I felt like I could breathe again as I pulled onto the twisting road
that would lead us away from here and to the airport.

“Stop. Pull over
here,” she instructed.

My hands shook
but I did what she said, coming to a stop in a gravelly reserve where rocks and
dust flew as I jammed my foot down on the brake. I couldn’t look at her, but
then she reached out to cup my jaw and forced my eyes toward her.

“What did you
just say?” Her eyes were on me so intently that I wanted more than anything to
look away and lie.

But I didn’t.

“I said that I
wanted you to be happy.” Fuck. I had to watch her, even though I wanted to tear
my eyes away, and I held my breath as she processed everything.

“Say it again.”

“I…I want you to
be happy.”

She climbed up
on top of me, squashed between me and the steering wheel as her mouth found
mine. “Say it again,” she whispered, and I did. I said it over and over again
as she fucked me and then again when we lay naked together in the back seat, my
head resting against her breasts. I breathed in deeply‒her scent, her
taste‒that was all there was and it was all that mattered. I felt her
hand sweep over my hair.

“Say it again,”
she whispered.

“I want you to
be happy.” I felt a kiss on my head as she held me tighter and I closed my eyes
again to breathe her in. Somewhere, in the distance, seagulls squawked and the
ocean roared.

This was how I
wanted to fucking die.

THE END