Guilty | ✓

XXXII | Guilty

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO | MICK JAGGER

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"HURRY."

Genevieve scowled, shaking her head as the droplets of water slowly ran down her neck and cheeks. The aching bruises from the previous punches that were launched at her, ached in her sides endlessly. A hiss leaving her lips once she attempted to turn to her side.

"Why?" Genevieve cried, pushing her back harder against the metal chair as if somehow she could get farther away from Lauren.

Dusting the blood off of her rings, Lauren grinned while reaching for her black pocket and pulling out a phone—it looked new, with a clear screen and only her fingerprints appearing on the glass protector.

"Simple, I just need this whole ordeal to be a little more fun, you know," Lauren gushed, throwing the phone in Genevieve's direction. "Call whoever you'd like, I don't care; cry for help, call Elias or Jonas. I just need a little bit more spark in this whole con—Tom Cruise makes it look so fun."

"You're a psycho bitch," Genevieve sneered, eyeing the phone cautiously.

Lauren shrugged disinterested. "I hear that a lot. Now, please make my life a little more interesting." Lauren reached for the phone and dialed Elias' phone number.

The phone dinged a couple of times before the phone answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Elias," Genevieve said awkwardly. "It's Genevieve."

"Genevieve?! Where are you? Are you okay? Tell me where you are?!"

"I'm just chilling in Mick Jagger," Genevieve said quickly when the phone was ripped away from her by Lauren.

"Mick Jagger?" Lauren's eyebrows furrowed as her frown intensified. "What a weird way to represent your current situation."

Genevieve scowled, pulling harshly away on the ropes, rashes scratching her wrists and ankles until blood was drawn. "You disgust me Lauren. Why? You don't have to do this, we can fix something and I can help you. What I did to Emmy is unforgivable." Genevieve's voice wavered slightly. "But, know if you kill me now you'll live your life normal again. You're just eighteen, Lauren."

"And I was just eight when you killed Emmy right in front of me," Lauren hissed, "you're right, I'll never forgive you. But I have to do this, or else. I loved Emmy."

Before Genevieve could respond, something struck her. The brunette's eyebrows furrowed as she slowly met Lauren's eyes watching confusion wave over the eighteen-year old. "Past tense."

"W-What," Lauren stuttered, licking her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. She cleared her throat. "What do you mean?"

"Past tense," Genevieve lifted a challenging brow. "Loved. Not love. Do you not love Emmy anymore."

"She died."

"It gives no excuse," Genevieve narrowed her eyes on Lauren as if analyzing her. She wasn't sure if this was a clue by chance or it was Lauren's way to stress Genevieve out. Either way, the awkward feeling that bubbled in Genevieve's stomach said otherwise. "You could still love her if she died, you don't love her anymore."