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Con walked in with his charming smile in place, looking just as beautiful as he always did. Justin was right behind him, pausing in the doorway.
“Molly.” Con greeted her with a chin jerk, refusing to acknowledge me. I was still being given the cold shoulder for standing up to him the week prior. The bruise on my face was just starting to fade from his knuckles connecting with it.
“Hey,” he called gently to the new girls, crouching down to their level.
“Please let us go,” the older of the two pleaded. Molly and I both dropped our gazes to our laps.
This was always the worst part—when the girls begged to be let go. They swore they’d do anything for freedom. The things Con came up with never ceased to surprise me.
“We’re going to play a simple game first. If you participate, I promise I’ll let you go.” He crossed his right hand over his heart, oozing sincerity.
The girls eyed him warily, but both nodded their heads in agreement. I frowned over at them, biting my tongue.
Every time this happened, it was like being fed a spoonful of vinegar. They were me once. I was disarmed by the pretty eyes and pretty smile of a perfect liar.
“All right, we’re going to go to the dining room.” He stood up, holding out his hands to them. They each grabbed a side and allowed him to lead them out of the room, shooting Molly and me uncertain glances.
“Come on, you two,” Justin ordered, turning to follow his brother.
“Rose, I can’t,” Molly whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “I can’t watch him—”
“Shh, you know what will happen if he hears you.” I brushed the wetness from her cheeks, taking her face in my hands.
“We’re going to be okay,” I assured her.
It wasn’t a lie.
He may hurt us, play games that made us question our sanity, and make us prove our devotion to him, but he would never let either of us go. He said we were a family, and nothing was going to break that apart.
“Come on.” Standing, I reached down and clasped her hand again to help her up. She hung her head, walking slightly behind me with slumped shoulders and her chin tucked to her chest, utterly defeated by the knowledge of what was coming next.
When we entered the nearly empty dining room, the two girls were already sitting in old wooden chairs with their eyes covered by bandanas, both surprisingly calm.
Con stood off to the side, leisurely smoking a cigarette. He liked to make people’s minds race, to jump to conclusions about what was going to happen. He got off on the smallest amount of fear.
Our eyes met as I walked across the room, his exquisite blue colliding harshly with my dark brown, and my stomach dipped. It was pure insanity to feel love for him. That message wasn’t clear to my heart, though. I knew no one would ever understand how I felt—how could they? I didn’t even want Con to know. The affection I harbored for him was just another secret I tucked away inside myself.
Averting my gaze to the floor, I went and sat in a rickety chair, keeping Molly close to my side. We were used to this routine, too.
Justin sat on a stool in the corner, serving as centaur. Vicky was off doing god knows what, and Julie had mysteriously vanished four months ago. I was almost certain she was buried with all the others in the woods.
“Are you two ready?” he asked the girls, snuffing out his cigarette in an ashtray.
“What do we do?” the one closest to him asked, fidgeting in her chair.
“Nothing; just sit there,” he responded, picking his large bowie knife up from the buffet side table. He began circling around behind us, gently touching the tops of our heads.
On his third lap, the words I was expecting to hear began to pour from his mouth. Justin stood up to join him in walking around our chairs.
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," he started to sing softly.
The girl across from me immediately began to cry. I rested my hands in my lap, balling them into fists and digging my nails into my palms until they punctured the skin. Molly mimicked my stance, shutting her eyes until the rhyme ended.
“My mother said to pick the very best rose. And you…are…not…her.”
He stopped behind the girl who had begun to cry and grabbed hold of her hair, pulling her head all the way back to expose her neck.
“No!” she screamed, failing to dislodge him before he drew the serrated blade across her throat.
She fell from the chair, choking on her own blood. I reached over and took Molly’s hand, letting her squeeze mine as hard as she needed to. She’d never gotten used to this part, while I could bear it without batting an eye. Maybe witnessing brutal deaths before had given me the ability to cope with them better.
