“I loved you.” The shout bounced off the walls like a physical thing. “And you killed our son! For what?” His voice cracked completely. “Put down the fucking match.”
“You wouldn't leave your wife for me. You never loved me,” she yelled at him before turning to me. “I loved him. My son. I did. But it was never…easy. Sometimes, I looked at him and saw my mistake staring back at me.”
Bile rose in my throat. The rope around my wrists felt like it was cutting off circulation to my hands. The match in her hand burned lower.
Ben's voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried more weight than his shout. “You said you wanted a future with us.”
“I did.” She reached toward him with her free hand, but he stepped back like she'd struck him.
The match burned down to her fingers. She dropped it—this time dangerously close to the main puddle. It sizzled out just inches from the gasoline.
Her head tilted to me, and that predatory smile returned. “Have you ever been so trapped, you'd do anything to claw your way out?”
“Yes.” The words came from somewhere deep in my chest, somewhere that had been locked away for years. “But I've never murdered a fucking child.”
She shook out the match and pulled out another. “You still don't get it.”
“No.” I met her gaze and didn't look away, even though everything in me wanted to. “I do. You snapped. You killed your son, spun some story to the cops, then lied to the father of your child to make it all seem like a mistake.”
“Well, at least you're smarter than you look.” She struck the match.
“And you're sicker than I thought.”
Ben's hands were shaking visibly, and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. “How? How did you get away with this?”
Lauren's voice took on an almost dreamy quality. “It's not that hard.” She feigned an innocent voice. “I found Patrick killing our son, so I grabbed the gun and shot him in self-defense after he went after me.” The match burned. “The cops ate it up. Traumatized wife, dead child—clear-cut case of domestic violence gone wrong.”
She turned back to me, and her smile returned sharper, more focused.
“Except you,” she turned to me, holding the match closer, “started to dig a little too deep. You found my journal and somehow got your hands on the fucking police report. You were taking it too far, and I knew you wouldn't let it go.”
“How do you know that?” My voice came out smaller than I intended.
“I may have asked Ben to plant a bug on your phone.” She shrugged like she was discussing the weather. “I’ve beenlistening all along.” She waved the match in a small circle, leaving a trail of light in the darkness.
"But…I thought he was my bodyguard?”
“You think that was a coincidence?" She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “A stupid football player buys that house—my house—and suddenly, he's dating you? I had to do something.”
“Ben,” I said, staring at him.
“Yup. He worked for my husband's father years ago. That's how I met him. So, when your little boyfriend bought my house, I called him, got him on your team?—”
“Because of the journal.”
“To make sure no one else found it first.” Her voice cracked higher. “I didn't need anyone digging around, finding out about the affair, pointing fingers at me. But you.” She jabbed a finger toward me, pulling out another match. “You found it anyway. You couldn't just leave it alone. You had to play detective, break into my house. You wouldn't stop! You just kept digging and digging.”
Ben scoffed, stepping forward. “I thought I was helping you. You told me it was an accident. You told me Patrick killed him. I thought I was helping you protect yourself.”
Lauren shot him a look—more disappointed than angry, like a parent whose child had broken something valuable.
“You think you're still the hero?” she said. “You helped me get her here. You loaded her in the car and drove her to this warehouse. You're in this as deep as I am.”
Ben's face went white. “I didn't know?—”
“You did know. You knew something was wrong, and you came anyway, because some part of you still loved me even after years apart. Even if you never would leave your damn wife.”
She held the match higher. “God, I thought someone would get it. If not you, then her!”
