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All of it culminating to this point in time.
Alistair and I drag Josh to a clearing farther up, away from the trees, with Penelope right behind us watching our every move.
I won’t ask her to help. But I also won’t allow her to stop what I’m about to do.
Josh is groaning loudly. “Fuck, it hurts.”
The music from the party is loud even this far away. “Rip Roach” by xxxtentacion blasts through the skies, amping me up.
“Don’t move,” I bark at him, and I pin his hand above his head. “This is gonna hurt even more.”
I jam the knife straight through his hand and into the ground.
He shrieks like a banshee, whipping his head and other hand around.
“Hold him down!” I yell at Alistair, who smacks him in the face with a fist.
Josh’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and Alistair pins his hand above his head while I ram Penelope’s knife straight through.
He howls in pain, kicking around with his feet.
“My hands!” he shrieks.
“Dylan …” Penelope rasps behind me.
When I turn to look, I spot the gun Kai used to shoot me in her hands.
I must not have noticed her picking it up while Ali and I were busy dragging this fucker back. I get up, ignoring the screaming fucker behind me. I walk to her and hold out my hand. “Give it to me.”
She shakes her head. “No. I want to do this.”
Fuck.
I knew there was a chance she’d risk it.
That was why I told her to run.
But I should’ve known girls like her don’t turn the other way when on the road to trouble. She faces it head-on.
She goes to her knees in front of Josh, who’s bleeding from every hole we created.
“Please,” he begs, shaking his head. “Please, don’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Without saying a word, she aims for his dick and shoots.
He cries out in agony. “My dick!” And he vomits all over himself.
She gets up and chucks the gun at me, the look on her face stoic, emotionless, like it came easy for her.
And my jaw actually drops.
That was … sick.
A smirk forms on my face.
Impressive.
I tuck the gun into my pocket while she pulls a medium bottle of whiskey from her bag, clearly snatched from the party.
Perfect.
When she’s about to take a sip, I steal it from her hands.
“Hey, I need that,” she says.
“Watch,” I say, and I splash the contents all over his body.
“What are you doing?” Josh mutters, coughing up blood. “Oh God, please, don’t do this, I don’t wanna d—”
“Die?” I interject, pulling out my lighter. “Too late. You’re already a walking corpse.”
“Wait, no, no, no, I’ll do anything you want, I—”
In the middle of his sentence, I set fire to him.
His shrieks are like music to my fucking ears as he’s being roasted alive, unable to even crawl away.
A perfect ending for a miserable little bug like him.
Alistair whistles as he plucks some branches off trees and picks off some freshly fallen twigs, tossing them all on top of Josh. The fire intensifies when I pour on some more alcohol, emptying the bottle, then throwing that onto the pile as well.
The massive fire is much bigger than any bonfire in the neighborhood, and my God, is it a sight to behold. My fiery fucking heart is all pumped up from this blaze, and I loud from the sheer adrenaline.
I’m sure some people who fled the scene wonder what the fuck is happening here. And I don’t fucking care. They can fucking watch him burn.
I glance at Penelope, flames dancing in her eyes. “You wanted our help … you got it. Catch.” I toss the knife back at her, and she actually catches it. Maybe I truly underestimated this girl … and the darkness in her heart.
“Go home, Penelope,” I say. “And don’t tell a fucking soul about tonight.”
PENELOPE
I head back to my room in the sorority and close the door.
The silence is overwhelming, but I can still hear the screams inside my mind.
I killed someone.
Not on accident.
Actual fucking murder.
I raise my hands, gazing at the blood on my fingers. His blood.
Blood of the person who hurt my sister.
And good God, does it feel powerful.
A big grin spreads on my face, and I bury my face in my hands, rubbing the blood all over my skin while laughing.
The bathroom door opens up, and Kayla steps out, only to pause like she’s suddenly turned to stone.
“Pen…” She shudders, her eyes widening. “Is that … blood?”
The smile on my face dissipates. “I … hurt myself while walking back from a party.”
She clutches the bathroom door, her hair still wet from the shower. “That doesn’t look like an accident. Did someone hurt you?” She walks toward me, clutching her towel. “Oh God, should I call for help?”
When she grabs my wrist, I jerk away, and her face contorts in confusion. She sniffs. “Why do you smell like a fire?”
