Fake Me To Church

Chapter 13 - Hush...Hush, Sweet Harlot

- STEVEN -

It was a tall lady with fiery red hair who stepped through the door. Her arms were thin, her neck smooth, her chest a dainty silhouette that bulged with her breasts. Her legs, pale but supple, were exaggerated by the thin set of high heels on which she stood a few inches taller than Mia.

Whoa, my brain buzzed. She's so freaking hot. The outside air still drifting through the open door was a wintry wave sweeping over my feverish flesh. I trembled as droplets of sweat began running down my palms, gluing my shirt tenuously to my back, slithering between my legs. It felt like I was losing control of my lower body—well, part of it anyway.

"And who are you two?" the ginger lady spoke as she slammed the door shut.

I blinked once, twice, thrice. 

My muscles tensed; my chest buckled; my knees drew close and knocked together. 

"Do you speak English!?" she screeched. "I asked you a question!"

"I'm...I'm uh," I sputtered, felt my tongue dry out.

"We're students," Ahmed finally said. "Students at EdgeWay, and we—"

"Stop." Marissa held up her hand for silence, manicured nails painted in scarlet peeking over the tips of her fingers. She turned to Mia. "You let them inside this house!?"

"I didn't, Marissa! I swear! They were here when I got—"

"What!?" Marissa raged, whirling to face me and Ahmed again. "You mean to tell me you...you children...broke into my home!? HOW DARE YOU!"

Whoa—she's got a temper. I took a step back. Still pretty hot though.

"We didn't exactly break in," Ahmed offered timidly. "The door was open..."

"GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!"

"Marissa, please," I begged. "We only came because—"

"I DON'T CARE WHY YOU'RE HERE!" Wildly, without warning, she grabbed the house phone off its hook on the nearby counter, almost wrenching the phone station to the ground. "YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO GET OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!"

"Hey, just wait a sec—"

"GET OUT NOW!"

"But, Marissa—"

"I SAID OUT! I'LL HAVE BOTH OF YOU PROSECUTED FOR—"

"LANE MARTIN!" Ahmed finally screamed back.

Silence.

Marissa dropped the phone. "What did you just say?"

"Lane Martin—Lane Alexandria Martin."

She gasped, stalked closer to us. "...How do you know that name?"

"We know a lot more than her name," I added, moving to stand between her and Ahmed. "We know she went to trial, and we know you handled her case."

She folded her arms across one another.

"Marissa, we just want the truth," Ahmed said. "We're not accusing you of anything. But whatever happened to Lane...it was seriously messed up. A-and now there's some killer walking the streets and chopping up bodies all over town."

Marissa glanced away, then shut her eyes. "Lane Martin got what she deserved." A pause of silence filled the air. "Girls like her think they can get away with anything...even murder."

I gulped. "Are you saying she...killed someone?"

"No." Marissa shook her head, a sudden wistfulness in her voice. "But she would have. She would have killed every child in that school to get her way." She blinked, then stared straight into my eyes. "For some people, good looks aren't enough. They have to have everything—everyone—under their control. And they're willing to destroy lives to get what they want. If you gave them the earth, they'd steal the whole galaxy."