‘Oh God. Who is it, Chloe? Tell us. Please.’
I force myself to look at them. They deserve that much.
‘Chloe.’ Weber prompts me, warning.
I can’t hide it any more. They need to know. The dominos falling, click, click, click.
‘Ethan,’ I tell them, my voice breaking. ‘Ethan’s safe. But Oliver . . . He didn’t make it.’
‘What are you doing?’ I gasp in shock at Oliver. Ethan is crumpled on the ground between us, groaning from the blow. ‘It was under control! I talked him down, he was letting us go!’
Oliver tosses the pipe aside and shakes his head at me. ‘That’s not how this plays out, sweet Chloe. You don’t get off so easy.’
‘I don’t understand!’ I back away, grasping hold of the wall for balance. Oliver has a wild glint in his eyes, something that chills me to the core.
‘I think you do.’ Oliver grins. He’s still got blood dripping from his mouth from Ethan’s blows, a terrifying scarlet smile. ‘I think you know just how this has to end.’
I shake my head, trembling. ‘Let’s go, right now. Get in the car and drive like we planned. He won’t hurt us now!’ My voice twists, pleading.
Oliver tuts. ‘That’s not the Chloe I know and love. What happened to the wild Chloe, the one who would happily take another life?’
‘No, Oliver.’ I shake my head. ‘That was different! That was just an animal!’
‘I thought you were done pretending.’ Oliver baits me. ‘Isn’t that why we’re here at all? You did this, Chloe. You. And now you need to finish the job.’
Finish . . .
I stare at him, finally realizing what he means. He set this up, this whole pretty scene. He lured Ethan here tonight, so I would have to face him. It was all part of his game, moving the chess pieces around.
Our pieces. Our lives.
‘You thought about it, didn’t you?’ Oliver adds softly. ‘All those nights he was pawing at you, smothering. Didn’t you just want to make him stop? Now’s your chance, Chloe. End it for good.’
Ethan crawls to his knees, blocking me from Oliver. ‘Don’t listen to him,’ he looks at up at me, plaintive. ‘This isn’t you, you’re not like him.’
‘Don’t tell her who she is.’ Oliver cuts him off, scathing. ‘She’s not your toy, to pat on the head and f**king smother with all your listless suburban bullshit. Chloe . . . ’ He turns back to me. ‘You can do this. You want to do it.’
I shake my head slowly. I can’t think, not with them both so loud. Not with the knife, still curved, glinting in my hand. ‘This wasn’t the plan,’ I protest weakly, ‘Oliver . . . You promised. You said nobody would get hurt!’
‘It’s too late for that.’ Oliver takes a step towards me.
‘Hey!’ Ethan tenses. ‘Don’t touch her!’
Oliver’s lips curl into a smile. ‘You see that, Chloe? Even after everything, he still thinks he needs to protect you. That you’re so helpless, you need protecting.’
‘Don’t let him get in your head, Chloe,’ Ethan warns me. ‘It’s what he does, he’s sick, you know that!’
‘Stop it!’ I cry. ‘Both of you, please!’
They stop.
There’s silence, nothing but the sound of our breath and my heartbeat, skittering so loud I think it might drown me forever. ‘I can’t,’ I whisper, turning helplessly to Oliver.
His eyes fix on me, fervent and blue. ‘I know you,’ he tells me softly. ‘I’ve seen it, all the dark places inside you, everything you are. I don’t care. You don’t have to hide it any more, Chloe. You can be free.’
Free . . .
That’s all I ever wanted, to be gone from this place forever. Away from the pity and the struggle, and all the dreary days I somehow stumbled into. A life I never meant to be mine.
‘You can be so much more. The two of us, together,’ Oliver whispers, and the words shiver through me, bright with possibility.
Ethan catches his breath, seeing my face change. ‘No, Chloe, you can’t. Please.’ His voice twists with fear and my resolve wavers again.
He was always the good one, better than I ever deserved. Surely, he doesn’t deserve this.
‘Do it,’ Oliver orders. ‘Chloe, I’m warning you. If you don’t, I will.’
‘He was protecting me. He didn’t have a choice!’
We sit in an empty hospital room. Two chairs, an empty bed. Sheriff Weber and I.
Ethan’s parents are visiting him in the ICU now. I wanted to go, but I know, they won’t want me anywhere near them, not after the news I just delivered.
Their boy, gone forever.
Derek broke down into loud, messy sobs, but Annette just stood there, her hands folded, her expression blank. And her eyes, burning into me, full of accusation.
She knows.
But of course she doesn’t, I tell myself, trying to stay calm. She can’t. Even Weber here doesn’t know where to begin, pacing back and forth and clearing his throat, wanting to demand answers, but still, not able to forget the good girl I’ve been. The times I’ve brought him coffee and pie; the months I’ve taken his phone messages; the years I slept over with Alisha at his house.
‘Tell me from the beginning.’
‘You said, we should wait.’ I swallow, nervous. ‘For that lawyer to get here . . . ’
‘We can’t wait around. Not now that – that we’ve found . . .’ Weber stops. ‘He’s dead, Chloe. Dead. They’ll be all over this come morning, you understand? Cops, journalists . . . This is serious.’
‘I know.’ My voice twists. Of course I know, I was there, in the midst of everything. The blood and the fear and the cold, sharp truth.
‘I should have you back at the station now,’ Weber adds, pleading. ‘You should be in interrogation, with a tape recorder running. My guys are already asking questions.’
I nod again. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, still twisting Ethan’s ring. ‘I want to help. I’ll tell you whatever I can, I promise.’
Oliver, lying there on the floor; Ethan prone on the gurney. Their features blur in my mind, blonde hair and brown. Two bodies, two sets of clear blue eyes.
One survivor. One way out of this.
History is told by those who win.
‘It was Oliver’s fault.’ I take a deep breath, meeting his eyes. ‘He called me, saying to meet him at the lake house; he said it was important.’