Whodunit

Chapter 20

No.

            No.

            No.

            "Ha! There she is!" Ximena clapped as Anisa made her grand entry through the shattered window behind them.

            Dmitri turned around to fully face Anisa, not even thinking about Ximena having full control to take him down from behind. Thunder crackled with a jolt of lightning as she took her stand in the middle of the glass shards like a superhero in a movie after defeating the film's main antagonist.

            "Bravo, bravo!" Ximena clapped in the air like a swarming fangirl as she sauntered over to Anisa with the hugest grin stretching her cheeks and admiration in the crinkles of her eyes.

            She was proud. She was proud of the show they had put on.

            Anisa played along and bowed towards Dmitri and then Ximena. "It was nothing. I could've been better."

            "Girl, you put on an Oscar-worthy performance. The white girl from Get Out ain't got nothing on you."

            "What about Billy from Scream?" Anisa asked, not as humble as she pretended to be.

            Ximena waved her hand and smirked. "Girl, you played his role better than him."

            The two shared a laugh, ignoring Dmitri's bloodshot eyes and damn-near broken jaw. For a second, he wondered if Ximena had already snatched his soul, killing him so fast he didn't even know he was dead. And now, he had to be living in his own personal hell on Earth where the love of his life turned out to be a psycho killer who wanted him dead.

            He checked his pulse. Much to his dismay, it thrusted against his skin like a high-powered vibrator.

            "Desi wasn't the only one who lived and breathed scary movies as an escape for this fucked up world," Anisa snarled, her cold eyes pressing him like a fifty-pound dumbbell on his throat. "Remember? I love horror movies, too. Of course, you never watched them with me because you never wanted to do anything I liked. It was always about you."

            Pow. One to the chest.

            The shot hit Dmitri so hard, he grabbed his chest. He had no words to say. He had to be dead. He had to be living a purgatory worse than Supernatural could ever create on a Hollywood set.

            "Plus, of course, you were too scared. Kind of like right now."

Unlike Ximena, Anisa had not an ounce of humor in her voice. Dead serious described her the way narcissistic and controlling described his mother.

            "Anisa, what—" Dmitri stumbled. "Why are you doing this?"

            As a response, she held out her hand towards the front of the sofa. "Have a seat, Dmitri."

            His heart caved in his chest. "Anisa?"

            "Have a seat!" her voice ricocheted louder than the thunder that lingered despite the retreat of the rain.

Dmitri gulped down the ache in his throat. He had no shame in staring at the ground as he bolted to the front of the couch and took a seat on the middle cushion. One hand found the other as he toyed with his fingers. His tapping foot played an off-key rhythm on the wooden floor.

"Calm down," Anisa said, her voice returning to the gentle air he longed for. "I'm not going to do anything you haven't done to me."

"You're trippin', Anisa. I would never hurt you as bad as you're hurting me right now."