Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Shit like that made the person shadier in my book. They never let you too close, only enough to see who they wanted you to see. People like that could lie, steal, and eventually. . .kill.
But was Wendy smart enough to act on her own? Did Lucy or Dawn help? Or was it them? Maybe the shit I saw in people’s eyes was nothing more than that. Shit.
No. Hell, no. I won’t doubt myself now. Not when we’re so close to ending this.
There was a puppet master. Someone who seized opportunities and let things casually play themselves out. I stared at Lucy again. The masters were the only ones I could never see. Sure, I spotted the murder in someone’s gaze. When people took life with their bare hands, they lost a bit of humanity, a sparkle in their eyes that never returned. Lucy still had her spark. It was just dimmer than most. It could’ve been because she’d been raped as a kid by people who were supposed to love her. Or maybe that dimness proves that she didn’t murder those girls with her bare hands but she was close enough to do it.
That’s the shit I can never see. The masters. I can point out a puppet with no problem. It’s the motherfucking puppet masters who always get away.
I let out a long breath. “Answer something for me, Lucy.”
“Okay.”
“Black roses in the summer time.” Music played from Chase’s bedroom. “That’s how I felt when you said you weren’t mine.”
The volume increased, drowning out the headboard’s banging and thankfully, my sister’s moans. They must’ve figured out that everyone could hear their sexing from the hallway.
“Black grass, dark butterflies falling down to their death. Battered days and cold nights is all I have left.”
Because of the music’s blare, I walked over to Lucy and brought my lips close to her ear, enough to brush against them lightly. It hadn’t been what I intended. She smelled like strawberries with something sweet on top, but it didn’t move me like Viv’s scent did. Nevertheless, that accidental lip brush made things uncomfortable. Lucy jerked to the side in horror at being touched. Viv just about hissed and got into some sort of Kung Fu stance.
Chicks are crazy.
“My bad. I was just trying to whisper in your ear,” I said.
“That’s okay. I just don’t like to be touched, especially by people I don’t know.”
“Answer me something. What did you smell in Wendy’s glasses?” I asked.
Dread rose in her gaze. She checked the door with the green number two and mumbled back, “Nothing. I smelled nothing.”
“Nothing at all, right?”
“Yes. It was so strange. Sometimes I smelled hard liquor but not many times.”
“Why did you smell her glasses?” Viv tip toed our way.
“If there’s no rain, then it’s gray sunny days. Foggy abandoned roads. Forgotten photographs of better days.”
Lucy shrugged. “I just. . .”
“You just like to smell things, huh?” I guessed.
She directed her view to the floor. “Sometimes.”
On the videos, Lucy sniffed candles for hours. Sometimes Chase bought her odd perfumes and tons of scented candles. She had shelves with loads of fragrances. It had caught my eye because it reminded me of Viv and all of her buckets of bottles that she mixed together on any given day to create a new scent for her mood.
“It’s just something I like.” She gave me a weak smile.
“That’s cool. I’m not judging,” I said.
“So what does all of that mean?” Viv stepped closer to me, not enough to be between Lucy and I, but enough to make a point. Another inch and she would’ve been straight up putting her foot in the center to force us to back up. Viv’s alleged jealousy could’ve all been in my mind, but something deep within the secret areas of my heart was glad that she still wanted to claim me.
“You broke me down until there’s no sunlight.” A sad little trumpet played along with the gloomy woman’s voice. “No brightness in my day. No comfort in my night.”
I backed up to give us all some room. “I had lab tests done on Wendy’s bottles.”
“What is she drinking, liquid crack or something?” Viv asked.
“No.” I signaled for both of them to come closer to me just in case Wendy was listening and could somehow hear through the music. “Water. Her bottles were all filled with brown food coloring and water. She’s been acting drunk almost all of the time.”
“I wasn’t sure,” Lucy muttered. “But I couldn’t think of why she would want everyone to think she was drunk.”
“Didn’t you say she acted when she was a kid?” Viv whispered.
“Yeah, but that was religious stuff. Then she escaped that town and become someone else entirely. That’s when she became Wendy.”
“Ah.” Viv rolled her eyes. “The beautiful alcoholic, willing and able to deal with any bullshit handed to her as long as some cash and liquor were in her hand.”