Darkside

Forty-One

"Something's on your mind, Luvvie. You want to tell me about it?"

It's me or her. One of us has to die so the other can live. I promised myself no more death, not after Orson, but there may well need to be one more. My dad deserved none of this.

"Come on, we're friends now. You upset with me or something?"

"Not upset," I spit out between gritted teeth. "Angry."

"Because of your dad? Yeah, that's a shame. But we probably couldn't talk honestly with him here anyway, could we? There's a lot we need to say."

"Nothing to say. I got nothing to say to you."

She should go, right? If she leaves, we both live.

But we can't live forever. Standoffs don't work like that.

Dad died to save me, that's what she said. He killed himself so I could live. Now, I need to ensure I do live.

Sorry, Alisha. You're done for.

"Okay, let's talk." Her eyes narrow as I rise upwards. "Let's get it all out there, Alisha. Whatever you want to say, say it now."

"Ooh, I see, you think you have some control now." She stands too. "That's interesting. I like that, I can roll with it. I guess because I'm a killer too, we're on the same level."

Not the same level. I did my own dirty work, and I have more than one dead body following me around.

"Did you think this is what you'd become?" Alisha continues, oblivious to my mindset now. "Did you think when you were a little girl you'd grow up to be this? No way. A ballerina, probably. A little dancing girl. A small girl coming up the aisle to her darling husband, although I'm proof that fantasy is worthless."

She tosses her head back and cackles with laughter.

I wince, the sound hurts my ears.

"I don't know what I thought." I'm monotone now. No emotion left. Good, emotion will do me no good. "I guess I didn't think I'd be this, no."

"Me neither, so we have that in common. That and Cash, of course. Maybe we've got more to build a bond off too, me and you. If you want. Sure, it's been a bit shitty up until this point, but we could work together, couldn't we? Make this work in our favor."

"How?"

I don't think I'm entertaining this, not really. Buying time, that's what I'm doing.

"Spin a story. Keep us both outta jail. I mean, your father will be an easy one, he killed himself because of the guilt. The DNA and evidence will show as much. He did pull the trigger himself."

Breathe.

Hold it together.

Don't let her get to you.

"Cash was abusive. He got violent with you just like he did me. You didn't know what else to do."

But why would she do that? Why would she want to help me? She wants me dead; I can't let my guard down.

"You don't need to hide anymore, you don't need to pretend to be someone else, you don't have to keep running."

"Why?" Fuck, now I'm whispering. I can't remain strong. "Why would you do that?"

She doesn't reply. She just smiles. Her lips curl up into a nasty snarl. This will come with a heavy price tag.

"You want freedom or not?"

"I don't need you for freedom."

"I've been watching you, Luvvie. I've been there the whole time. I know you need me for freedom. You tried it alone and it didn't work, did it? You can't do this without me."

She reaches behind her back and grabs something. It takes me an embarrassingly long time to see what it is. The glint of metal catches my eye, makes me want to puke.

A gun.

"Not only do you need me, you're gunna have to work with me, Luvvie fucking Thompson, whether you like it or not. You though Cash was a crazy asshole? You ain't seen nothing yet. Oh, hell, but you're about to."