“We’re just waiting for the old man to die. Can’t kill him, too,” Perry replies.
Too?
I stare at him in disbelief, quickly putting two and two together. “You killed James Madison.”
“All I did was fix the brakes. He got himself killed,” he says.
Ice trickles through my veins as I understand precisely what kind of monsters I’m dealing with—the worst kind, capable of deceit at the highest level and in the long term, people with masks who have almost everyone fooled, people so awful, you can’t even imagine what worse things hide beneath the surface.
“Sheila, what do you want from me?”
“Ah, yes, that was the original question, and I got sidetracked.” She laughs lightly, but her humor drops into a cold glare as she looks at me again. “I swore I wouldn’t let Terrence suffer the way I did. You weren’t the one for him. I knew it from the moment I met you. You’re too much for him.”
“And you went and found him less. Why try to kill me, then?”
Sheila slaps the armrest of her chair in a flash of rage. “Because your mere existence sickens me, you fat bitch! Because you get to strut your lard around like you belong in my world, the same world I sacrificed so much to be a part of! Because you never had to sell yourself the way I did in order to get somewhere! Because I fucking hate you so much,I will do anything to live in a world where you no longer exist.” She pauses for a deep breath. “That’s why.”
The words come out so naturally, the hate is so visceral.
Jamie was right. Sheila is just psychotically jealous of me and of everything I’ve built on my own. She made her choices, yet she pretends to be a victim of her circumstances.
“Tell me something,” I say, stealing a peek at Perry. He doesn’t seem too fond of this part of the conversation, choosing to stare out the window instead. “Did James Madison force you to marry him?”
“Well, no, but he didn’t give me any other choice,” Sheila replies.
Perry’s doubtful look is hard to miss when he looks at her. The thought must’ve crossed his mind so many times, I’m sure of it.
“You did have the choice not to marry him,” I say. “Wait, that would’ve meant raising Terrence on your own. Oh no, it would’ve meant raising him with Perry, in poverty, I suppose. I mean, who wants to hire a pregnant or a postpartum exotic dancer, right?”
“I would’ve gotten a job,” Perry mutters.
Sheila scoffs and waves his concern away. “She’s just trying to get into your head, the fat, scheming bitch. Don’t mind her.”
There’s so much I want to say to her, but I’d only end up dying sooner. I can’t get her to back down; it’s clear she wants me dead. But she also made sure I’d be here, awake and alive, to listen to her motives. I still have one optionleft to try.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say.
“Oh, but I do. There’s no other way,” Sheila replies. “As long as you’re alive, you’ll be a thorn in my side, and the Morgan brothers will keep getting in my way. With you out of the picture, however, they’ll be too distraught to notice.”
“God, Sheila, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to convince Bill to finish updating his last will and testament, like he promised. My son and I deserve the lion’s share of everything he has. You said it yourself, didn’t you? Bill promised he’d take care of Terrence and me. I intend to hold him to it.”
Perry frowns as he looks outside. It catches my attention, that lingering concern over something that moves somewhere out there. It’s probably a car or a neighbor. Either way, it stays with him long after the distraction has passed. He’s hypervigilant, and prone to fits of anger and unpredictability, but he is obsessed with Sheila, foolishly obsessed.
I can either cast more doubt over their insane relationship, or I can appeal to whatever morsel of humanity she might have left underneath that honey-mustard-colored cashmere sweater of hers.
“You can’t kill me, Sheila,” I say.
“Says who?” She laughs, a truly terrifying sound.
“I’m going to be a mother soon. I’m pregnant,” I reply, hoping for the best while my stomach tightens, my body somehow preparing for the worst. “I just found out.”
Sheila stares at me for what feels like a wretched eternity, her face expressionless, just cold, green eyes and red, glossy lips pressed into a thin line. Perry, however, seems troubled bythe revelation. I’m guessing he might draw the line at killing a pregnant woman.
“All the more reason to end you,” Sheila decrees.
“Sheila, please.” I burst into tears. I’m tied up and helpless. There’s only so much more I can do, and despair is quickly settling in and making my heart crumble. “My baby…”
