“Fuck. Did they make you piss yourself?” I whisper. I gotta get him out of here.
“Margeaux?” he rasps. His voice hoarse and mumbled.
“Yes, Jon. I’m here. It’s me,” I tell him, giving his face another kiss.
“Leave. Get out of here,” he says with more energy, but his words are still sluggish.
“Not without you, Doc. I just gotta figure out a way to cut these ties.” I keep looking around the small, musty-smelling room frantically.
“N-nylon,” he says, his head swinging like it’s on a swivel. Did the fucker drug him? I swear, I’m not the murderous type, but I’m willing to do time in prison if it rids the world of the crusty scum that did this to my Doc.
“Nylon? Stockings?” I ask, not understanding what he’s talking about.
“Shoelaces. Friction will cut the plastic,” he says with more alertness.
“Alright, Sherlock Holmes. I got you. I quickly unlace my sneakers, never more grateful for having such big feet. Extra-long laces to get through these ties. “I’m sorry. I thought you left me. I’m so sorry for thinking you would do that,” I ramble as I work the shoelace back and forth against his ties as quickly as possible.
“I love you, Margeaux,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me. “I know, this seems like the worst time to tell you, but I need to say it before I say anything else. I can’t have the last words you hear from me beshoelaces.”
I don’t know if I’m going to cry or laugh. I stop what I’m doing and brace my arms on both sides of the chair, pressing my lips to his. He hums, or groans. I’m not sure. But I can’t stop kissing him. It’s been too long since we felt each other and I want more of him,allof him.
“Aren’t you going to say it back to him?” I’m pulled out of our kiss by a voice I never expected to hear in this situation.
“Becca?!”
This can’t be possible.Howis this possible? Becca’s responsible for all of this? I just saw her a few nights ago. She seemed totally normal at that club. There’s no way that she’s behind all of this.
“What’s the matter,Maggie?Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you lost it down your pathetic boyfriend’s throat,” she scoffs, giving me a look of pure hatred.
It’s only now that I register that she’s holding a giant knife. Yup, I definitely should have thought to bring a weapon. I look beside me, and Jon is still coming to, his eyes are glazed over, and he’s covered in sweat and bloodand piss. Fuck Becca for doing this to him.
“What are you doing here, Becca? Are you working with Brian?” I ask, keeping my hands up, hoping she drops the knife so I can drop her. I’m ready to body slam her into the cheap dresser in the corner.
She laughs, sounding possessed.
“You would think Brian was behind this. You were such a simp for him.”
She’s fucking crazy. She thinks I was into Brian? I mean, maybe fora couple of hours, thanks to loads of alcohol and being young and naïve.
“I fucking hate Brian. And you would know that if you bothered to be my friend after that alumni party. He fucking raped me that night. And where the fuck were you?! You were my best friend!”
“I know what he did to you! And it didn’t seem like you hated one second of it from where I was standing. You seemed like more than a willing participant. Just because he nailed and bailed, doesn’t mean you get to mask your regret as a rape. I saw how much you wanted him. And he wasn’t saying or doing anything to you that I couldn’t have done.”
What the fuck? I take half a step back, not believing what she’s saying to me right now. She truly believes I wanted to be over-served alcohol and then taken advantage of in a cheap motel room? How little does she think of me?
“Don’t fucking listen to her, Beautiful. She’s out of her fucking mind,” Jon says, finally more with it than he was a couple of minutes ago. He’s still bound to the chair. I know if I try to help him, Becca will do something crazy and unpredictable. I just have to keep her on that side of the room, away from us with that knife. We’re gonna be okay.
Becca still looks like she did when we were younger. Her face has slightly sharper angles, the youthfulness gone from her features. Her dark eyes are darker, emptier. What happened to her?
“I wasalwaysthere for you, Maggie.”
“Margeaux,” I correct her.
I’m not Maggie anymore. I’ll let my family slide with calling me that, but they’re grandfathered in. This crazy cunt has lost all allowances to call me Maggie.
“I was there for you. I was your best friend. We did everything together. And then you just dropped me for a fucking guy like I was nothing. And you’re doing it all over again for this nerd and a half.” She points her knife at Jon.
I’m trying to keep up with her. If anyone wants to understand why Becca is tearing my life apart and tormenting me, it’sme. Becca’s not wrong. She and I were best friends until that night. The way she’s making it sound is that I dropped her and left her like a bad habit. Itried calling her for days after Brian attacked me. I tried to explain what happened, but she never responded to my calls.
