Listen for the Lie (29 page)

“You've been trying too hard to remember things,” Emmett says.

I'm out of the car. I don't remember getting out, but now I'm standing next to it, and Emmett is looking at me worriedly. His fingers are wrapped around my wrists.

“It's not good for you,” he continues. “Remember what happened last time you tried too hard? You started creating things in your head.”

The crack of the hammer against Savvy's skull is replaying on a loop in my brain.

Too real to be something I created.

“Matt told you I was there that night, didn't he?” Emmett asks.

I blink. “What?”

Emmett's expression goes dark. “He told you I was there. He promised he wouldn't, but I should have known that asshole wouldn't be able to keep a secret.” He puts both hands on my cheeks. “
I
would never hurt you, you know that.”

“Matt told me you were there,” I repeat, even though it's a lie. Matt didn't tell me shit.

Emmett was
there
? And Matt
knew
?

“I left the wedding for like twenty minutes because I had to go home to let my dog out,” Emmett says. “I saw you … Well, you don't want to know.”

“Yes, I do,” I whisper.

“We fooled around, at the wedding,” Emmett says. “We were … Well, we kept doing that. You remember, the times before that. You and I are always making our way to each other.”

That was one way to describe my getting drunk and kissing him twice, I guess.

“Savvy saw us, and she got really mad. I don't know if she ever told you, but she and I had a brief fling. It was nothing, just a couple of times, but she acted really cold to me after. I think maybe she thought it was more than it was?”

That was one way to describe Savvy avoiding him after bad sex.

“You two left together. I decided to run home to let my dog out, and I came across Savvy's car on the side of the road on the way out. I thought it was weird, because most of the guests took the main road out. It was supposed to rain that night, and the people at the venue had told us not to take that road, that it flooded easily. I guess she forgot.
I
forgot, until later that night.”

“You came across her car, already parked,” I repeat.

“Right. I got out, and you two were off in the trees, yelling at each other.”

“About what?”

“I don't know. It was too hard to follow. But you seemed really upset. She slapped you, and you scratched her. I started to intervene then, but you grabbed the tree branch and just … I don't think you meant to hit her that hard. You panicked, and started screaming, and you ran.”

“You forgot about my head injury,” I say to Emmett.

He drops his hands from my cheeks. “What?”

“My head injury. You forgot that
I
got bashed in the head too.”

“Oh.” Something like panic flits across his expression and then disappears. “I don't know how that happened, but you were running like a bat out of hell. You must have hit your head on something. I actually tried to chase you, but you took off.”

“And you just left Savvy there to die?” I ask.

“She was already gone,” he says quietly. “There was nothing anyone could do.”

“And you didn't go to the police because…?”

“Because I love you.” His gaze is steady on mine. “I don't care if you made a mistake once. Technically, she hit you first. And you didn't mean to do it. I know that.”

“What did you say to him?” I ask. The buzzing in my brain is back. It's hard to think. “To Matt.”

“I told him the truth. That I saw you kill Savvy.”

“Why did I…” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Why did I run?”

“I think you were scared to face what you'd done.”

“And Matt didn't call the police either?”

“We wanted to take care of it ourselves. We were going to find you, but the road washed out and we couldn't get back to find you. And then that guy found you before we could, and it just … it seemed better to say nothing. You didn't remember anyway.”

I look up and meet his eyes. “That must have been a real relief for you.”

His eyebrows draw together. “For
me
? I was relieved for you. I never want you to remember that trauma. I was disappointed that you didn't remember our moment at the wedding, because we were finally—”

“About to fuck next to a dumpster?” I finish for him.

“We were finally acknowledging our feelings for each other.”

“I guess we were. Like when I said I didn't care about your childhood crush, and I just wanted you to fucking leave me alone.”

He freezes. “You never said that.”

“Why did Matt believe you when you said that you saw me do it? I hit you. You didn't have any evidence of it on your face?”

“You never hit me,” he says.

“I think Savvy hit you too, but she wasn't very good at it. She was so short, and small. She was better with knives.”

Emmett looks startled by this.

“
I
should have punched you harder. I've had practice.” A knife to the gut would have been better. Savvy was right.

“Lucy.” He speaks like he's talking to a child. “Let's take a step back. You're getting hysterical.”

I punch him in the face.

Emmett stumbles into the road, sputtering. He gives me a thoroughly baffled look.

Which quickly turns to rage.

I should run. I wait for Savvy's voice to pop into my head, telling me to run.

Instead, I see her next to Emmett in her pink dress, blood dripping down her face.

“
I have an idea
,” she says with a grin. “
Let's kill Emmett!
”

I smile. That's a great idea.

I stride into the road, hands balled into fists. My right hand already hurts from hitting him once.

I don't care.

He grabs me by the collar, drawing back to hit me. I duck and slam my fist into his gut.

He gasps and doubles over. “Lucy, stop,” he wheezes.

I aim my fist at his face, but he twists away from me. I catch a flash of the rage in his eyes before he punches me in the face.

The world goes white for a moment. I'm on the ground, gravel digging into my palms. Something wet drips down my face and into my mouth. I taste blood.

He grabs me underneath my arms and begins pulling me off the
road. I'm dizzy, and he has me halfway to the art store before I begin kicking and squirming.

“God dammit, Lucy!” he yells. I break free and spring to my feet. I lunge at him.

We topple to the ground together, rolling twice before I manage to pin him down. I put my hands around his throat and squeeze as hard as I can.

He kicks his feet. His face turns red.

Let's kill let's kill let's kill

He bucks, throwing me off him. He scrambles to his feet and runs into the store.

I follow as he crashes through the store, knocking over a display and sending paintbrushes onto the floor. I leap over them.

He grabs a hammer from the shelf—the same sort that he used to kill Savvy, and I realize suddenly that he must have had it in his truck that night. He went back to his truck to grab something to kill me with.

This asshole.

I grab him by the back of his shirt, but it rips as he frees himself. He darts out the back door.

I sprint through after him, back into the thick, humid air.

He's waiting for me on the other side, hammer poised. He swings it at my head, and I lean back just in time. The edge of it barely grazes my forehead.

I stumble back. He swings again, misses again, and I reach up to grab his hand, trying to yank the hammer free.

He shoves me and swings again. The hammer catches me on the chin this time, and the pain sends me scrambling back.

A moment of clarity flashes through my rage. I should run. I glance behind me, to where my car is just visible around the corner of the store.

He took my keys, I suddenly remember. My keys and my phone. I can run, but it would be with nothing.

A viciously satisfied expression crosses Emmett's face as I stand there, blinking from the hit. It's a familiar feeling—the panic of being trapped, the frustration of his having all the power.

I scream. It's guttural, a sound I've never heard myself make before.

I charge at him, and the shocked expression on his face as I do it might be the most satisfying thing I've ever seen. We crash hard into the ground, a mess of limbs and grunts.

I claw at his arms, trying to grab the hammer. My knee connects with his chest, and his grip on the handle loosens as he gasps. I snatch it from him and spring to my feet.

He scrambles up as well, lip curled, his chest rising and falling too quickly.

I swing the hammer into his stomach.

He buckles over with a gasp and heaves. He holds out a hand, like he wants me to stop. I pause with the hammer poised to strike again.

He bolts upright suddenly and takes off running.

“Emmett!” I scream. I consider, briefly, sprinting in the opposite direction. But my feet have other ideas. I'm chasing him before I realize I made up my mind to do it, my anger driving me forward.

Distantly, I hear my own name. I don't know whether it's real, or whether it's Savvy.

There's a small patch of trees behind the store. Emmett runs into them, and I push my legs as fast as they'll go. Emmett casts a terrified glance over his shoulder. Something about it is satisfying. Maybe this is what Savvy felt like when she killed that man.
He deserved it
.

“Better run faster, asshole!” I scream.

“
Lucy!”
the voice yells again. Not Savvy. Closer.

I'm close enough to almost reach Emmett. I stretch my hand out, my fingers grazing the fabric. I snatch it, yank it back into my fist. He yells as he tumbles to the ground, and immediately tries to get to his feet.

I lift the hammer over my head and bring it down hard on his leg. It makes a very pleasing
crunch
sound as he screams.

“Lucy!”

Emmett uses one leg for leverage as he dives forward on his knees, yanking the hammer from my grasp. It goes flying.

And comes to a stop at Ben's feet.

He's breathing heavily, eyes wide and horrified as he looks from me to Emmett.

“Oh my god, Ben,” Emmett pants. He uses his good leg to scoot away from me. “She's lost it. She's fucking lost it. She's trying to kill me.”

Ben holds my gaze. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. Blood smears across my skin.

I look down at the hammer. Back up at him.

He slowly reaches down and picks it up.

“He killed her.” My voice is low. It doesn't sound quite right. “He killed Savvy, and he tried to kill me.”

Surprise flickers across Ben's features. I can see the wheels turning, the interviews starting to loop in his head. I have no idea whether his research will back up my claim.

“Matt saw him that night,” I continue. “You can ask him. Emmett was there, and he fucking killed her.”

Ben stares at me. His expression is unreadable.

“No,” Emmett says. He shakes his head desperately. “No. I never would have hurt Savvy. Or you, Lucy. You have to believe me.”

Ben cocks his head.

“You saw her!” Emmett points at me. “She was about to kill me! She would have, if you hadn't come along!”

Ben looks down at the hammer in his hand.

“Let's find out,” he says.

He tosses me the hammer.

I sit in a hospital bed, staring at a police officer.

He's standing just outside the curtain surrounding my bed, talking to Ben. I can see them both through the crack where the fabric isn't closed all the way.

“You heard him say that?” the officer asks.

“Yeah,” Ben says. “Emmett yelled something about how he'd tried to kill Lucy once.”

I blink. My head is swimming and aching, but I'm pretty certain Emmett said nothing like that.

“And Matt Gardner saw Emmett that night,” Ben continues. “You should ask him about that.”

The officer nods, writing something down. He pushes the curtain aside and fixes me with a hard stare. “We'll have more questions for you in a minute.”

I nod numbly.

He walks away, and Ben steps inside the curtain with me. His eyebrows are drawn together, the nerves and stress obvious in the way he keeps crossing and uncrossing his arms.

“
She's lying! Why aren't any of you listening to me?”
Emmett's scream is distant from down the hall somewhere.

“I could have killed you both,” I say to Ben.

He looks startled. “Sorry?”

“When you tossed me the hammer. I could have killed him, and then you. Your sense of self-preservation is lacking.”

He lets out a breath of air that's like a laugh. “Like you said before, that would have been a better ending. You kill the real killer and the host of the podcast trying to solve the crime. I think a lot of people would have liked that ending better.”

I side-eye him. “There's something wrong with you.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I never thought you were going to kill me, Lucy.”

I don't know whether I believe him.

I'd like to, though.

“Emmett didn't say that,” I say after a brief silence.

“What?”

“You know what. He didn't yell anything about killing me. He told you he was innocent.”

He shrugs.

I imitate his shrug. “That's it?”

“Whatever. It's close enough to the truth. People are going to believe whatever I say. Your word isn't enough.”

“The truth doesn't matter.”

Savvy's words sound gentle this time. Less angry.

I shift my attention back to Ben. “The truth is whatever you say it is.”