Brooke leans closer soKristie can see her face.
“Hi Kristie.”
Kristie’s muffled scream turns frantic.
Beau arranged the boat ahead of time. It is waiting for us when we arrive. Once we're aboard, he guides it father out, carrying us away from the shore until the lights on land shrink into small points in the distance. The water is dark. The air is cold enough to sting my face. The engine hum stays low, and the lake stays quiet, which makes every sound feel louder.
Kristie’s eyes dart between us, then to the water, then back to us again.
I sit on the bench with my elbows on my knees, watching her without empathy. She earned this.
Brooke sits beside me, posture calm, gun resting on her thigh, eyes fixed on Kristie’s face. She looks the way she looks right before she pulls a trigger, quiet and focused.
Beau cuts the engine when we reach the middle.
The boat rocks gently. The sound of water against the hull turns into a slow rhythm.
Brooke leans forward.
“Did you enjoy watching me drown, Kristie?” Brooke asks. “Because I’m about to enjoy watching you.”
Kristie makes a muffled sound through the tape and tries to scoot back, but the tape on her legs turns it into a pathetic scrape.
Brooke keeps her eyes on her. “When we toss you into this lake, you’ll sink fast. Even if the tape loosens, the zip ties won’t. You won’t be able to swim up. You won’t be able to paddle. You’re going to sink and die.”
Kristie’s eyes go wider. Her breathing goes frantic under the tape. I watch her throat move as she tries to swallow around panic.
Brooke tilts her head slightly. “Do you know what it feels like to drown, Kristie?”
Kristie screams behind the tape.
Brooke’s mouth tightens. “It hurts. It’s not peaceful. Your chest burns. Your lungs fight. Your brain screams at you to breathe, and you can’t. You think you’re about to explode from the inside.”
She pauses, and her gaze doesn’t soften.
“But I woke up after,” Brooke continues. “I had to live with it. I had to live with the pain in my lungs. I had to live with the memory. You don’t get that part.”
Brooke’s eyes flick down to the water, then back to Kristie. “You’re going to die at the bottom of this lake, and nobody’s going to find you.”
Kristie’s eyes squeeze shut for a second, then open again.
Brooke’s voice drops lower. “Silver lining, you’re going to see your son real soon.”
Kristie jerks her head, a furious denial that turns into fear again immediately.
“When you get there,” Brooke smiles, “tell him I sent you.”
I shift forward and plant my boots, watching Kristie’s eyes as they lock on mine.
I drag Kristie toward the edge of the boat. The hull rocks as her weight shifts. Beau steadies the boat with his stance, keeping us balanced.
Kristie twists and tries to kick, but her ankles are locked. The tape around her legs holds. Her breathing turns frantic and ragged under the duct tape. She makes a sound that is half sob and half scream.
Brooke steps closer and rests her hand on Kristie’s cheek, almost gentle.
Kristie’s eyes lock onto Brooke’s face. The fear in them is raw. Brooke doesn’t look away.
Beau glances at me. “Now.”
