Page 142 of Dead Pretty

He hears it. The difference in our voices. I see it in his confused and fearful eyes.

And I am enjoying every single second of this.

It’s what I live for.

Of course, I live for Audrey too.

But this … the killing … this is for me.

“How about I tell you a little story?”

I take a few steps backward and rest my ass on the arm of the sofa. Jack’s gun in one hand, my knife in my other.

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Audrey, and she had a brother called Cole. Their father was a mean, cruel bastard who used to beat on his wife and kids. Cole would protect Audrey as best he could because that’s what older brothers do—they protect their younger sibling.

“One day, when Audrey was four and Cole was eight, their dad was in a particularly bad mood. A terrible mood in fact. Their mother was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Cole and Audrey were in the back closet that led into the kitchen. When they had to be in the house, they would play in there to stay out of the way of their father.

“They heard arguing begin in the kitchen and then the sounds of their father hitting their mother. Cole told Audrey to cover her ears. That it would all be fine. But it wasn’t fine. Not that day. The sound that came from their mother … was unnatural. Cole knew something bad was happening. He looked through the slats in the door, and he could see blood. Blood running across the floor. He told Audrey to stay there, and he walked into the kitchen. Cole saw his mother’s body on the floor, surrounded by blood. He screamed. So, his father made Cole stop screaming. Then, their father took the knife to his own throat and slit it wide open.

“Audrey always did what Cole told her to, and she didn’t leave that closet. She stayed there for three days until a worried neighbor called the police because she hadn’t seen the family for a few days and there was a bad smell coming from the house.

“Audrey had no other family. So, she was placed with a good Christian family. Dorothy and Patrick Irwin went on to adopt her. Only Patrick and Dorothy weren’t good people. Patrick liked to rape little girls, and Dorothy turned a blind eye, allowing him to.

“What Cole hadn’t realized was that Audrey had seen her family slaughtered that day. Cole told her to cover her ears in that moment in the closet but not to close her eyes. His one mistake. And through the slats in that door, she saw everything. And then she had been left all alone … to live with those monsters.

“Audrey cried for Cole every single night after that bastard made her do things no child ever should. Begged for him to come back and save her. So, that’s what I did. I came back and protected her, like I always had tried to. Only I wouldn’t fail her ever again. So, every night, when that sick fuck she had to now call father would come into her bedroom to take what he wanted from her, Audrey would simply fall asleep, and I would take her place.”

“Do-n’t un-der-stand.” Blood spatters down from his mouth and onto his pants.

It’s like artwork.

My beautifully made canvas.

“You wouldn’t.” I shake my head at him, feeling irritated. “I am Audrey. And she is me.” I point at my chest.

“Wh-ere … Au-dr-ey?”

“She’s resting at the moment. At times, Audrey sees me as if I were standing in front of her. And other times … like now, she sleeps, and it’s just me. She has no idea that we coexist in the same body. And she doesn’t need to. It works better for both of us that way. I had to take over because she’d found my things.” I gesture with the knife to the other items on the windowsill. “And I knew that Audrey would try to do the right thing. Because that’s Audrey. She’s a good person.”

“Mur-ders … you.”

“Yes. All me.” I smile. “The murders in Chicago that your brother is sitting pretty in prison for right now. And I know what you’re thinking … Why him?” I shrug. “He was an easy target. He had a stupid crush on Audrey, and she had no clue he existed. But I did though. I knew. I know everything. And the police investigating the murders were getting suspicious. They were starting to ask Audrey too many questions. It had been my error to link them to her in the first place. So, I had to take the direction away from Audrey and me. And you have to know, cutting her that night, terrorizing her, it wasn’t something I wanted to do, but I had no choice. I had to sell the idea that it was Tobias. It was the only way.

“I’d killed her adoptive parents as well.” While I’m here, I might as well give him full disclosure. Not like he’s going to be able to tell anyone, and I’m enjoying my little story time.

“Although I didn’t get to have as much fun with them as I wanted. But I did get the most pleasure from killing those two. And I know you’re probably thinking, Why didn’t you kill them years ago? And the answer is, I didn’t know I could.” I shrug. “Wasn’t sure I was capable of it. But turns out, I am, and I’m damn fucking good at it.

“You see, when Audrey left for college, I figured it was over with that sicko. But when she graduated, she didn’t have a job to go to. No money to fall back on. So, she went back home. To that fucking house. And it started again. He started raping her again … well, me. Because it’s always me.” My hand curls tight around the handle of the knife. “So, I decided to make it stop. Only wish I could have cut him open like the pig he was. But it would have been too messy. Too many questions. The cops would have looked straight at Audrey. It’s always the family they look at first, and Audrey was set to inherit everything—the house and money. So, I … tampered with their car one night before they went out for dinner. Millions of people die in automobile accidents every day.

“Annoying thing was that Audrey wasn’t happy they were dead. She actually mourned them. But that was my error. I had protected her, shielded her from everything, so she never really knew who they were.” I sigh. “She was just so sad. Honestly, it was starting to bug me. So, I decided to try and cheer her up. I left her notes. Little gifts. To make her feel special. Let her think she had an admirer. But it didn’t work. She was still fucking depressed.

“There was this bird that used to sit outside her bedroom window; it used to chirp nonstop. Honestly, it was like nails on a blackboard. I thought getting rid of that would make her happy. And it was fun, snapping its little neck. The cat next door was shitting all over the flowers in the garden. I knew it bothered her. So, I killed the cat. But she was still fucking sad.

“Then, one day, Audrey seemed to be perking up. She actually went out to get her hair done. And the bitch at the salon was awful to her. Some stuck-up receptionist who made her feel like an inconvenience. Audrey went home and cried. I was so fucking mad. It was the first day that she’d actually started to feel better, and that bitch brought her back down.

“So, later on that night, when it was dark and Audrey was resting, I took a knife with me and went back to the salon … followed that receptionist cunt to her house … and made her feel bad for a while until she stopped feeling anything at all. I left a note for Audrey, letting her know it was a present for her. Not like I could take the body home and leave it on the doorstep for her. It wasn’t until later, when I saw it in the press, that she looked like Audrey. Weird, right? But I kind of liked it too. It felt good. And we all need a little something for ourselves, right?”

I look over at Jack, realizing I got a little lost in my own story.