I’m not sure what type of twisted reality she’s been living in, but whenever she gets outwardly angry, she gets really twitchy with that knife. For Jon’s safety, I have to stop riling Becca up.
“What are you trying to tell me, Becca?” I ask.
More crazy laughter. Then she starts pacing side to side. Fuck, this is like a really fucked up scary movie. I’m pretty sure this is the part where Jon and I get hacked to pieces by the psycho stalker.
Taking advantage of her manic breakdown, Jon whispers to me, “Keep her talking. Keep her calm. Whatever she says to you isn’t real. It’shertruth. You know what happened to you. You got this, Beautiful.” How is this man able to remain so calm under these conditions? I look into his dark eyes and see how wide his pupils are. Oh, right. He’s super drugged up right now.
“What I’mtryingto tell you,Margeaux,” Becca huffs, making me look away from Jon and back at her. “What should have been painfully obvious to you all those years ago…Ilove you, Margeaux! I’vealwaysloved you!”
I feel my jaw fall open, my brain short-circuiting.
What. The. Fuck?
34
JON
This situation has gonefrom really bad to horrific. I’m still feeling dazed and groggy from all the drugs in my system. Hearing Margeaux’s voice, seeing her,smellingher dark cherry shampoo, has me slowly clawing back to life.
Becca isn’t showing any signs of letting us go. This seems like a situation with no exit strategy. She has Margeaux. She doesn’t need me anymore. It doesn’t look like Margeaux called any law enforcement to help de-escalate this situation. I love this woman, but fuck, I wish she called the police.
Luckily, Margeaux left her shoelaces in my hand. I manage to tie the laces to the slats in the chair, keeping the length of the lace threaded between the zip ties. I have to be careful not to make too many jerky movements. Margeaux’s keeping Becca talking, keeping her distracted. I’m able to keep working until Becca hits us with the biggest curveball.
She’s in love with Margeaux?
I mean, the obsessive behavior makes sense now. But, Margeaux seems just as caught off guard about Becca’s feelings.
“What do you mean, Becca? We were friends,” Margeaux says, her hands dropping to her sides.
Becca scoffs and rolls her eyes. She runs both her hands through her long, brown hair, being mindful to keep her knife away from her face. “You can’t bethisoblivious.” Margeaux is still stunned silent. I try to keep my hands moving, creating enough friction and heat to break these plastic ties. “So fucking consumed with yourself. You probably just enjoyed the attention. Youalwayscraved being the center of attention,” Becca adds.
“That’s not true!” Margeaux shouts.
“Shut up! If we’re going to do this, you have to be honest. Admit it,Maggie! You love attention. You don’t care if it’s negative or positive. You just love having all eyes and ears on you.”
“I never asked for Brian’s attention. You left me alone with him. Did you know what he was going to do?”
I can hear the pain in Margeaux’s voice. I’m pissed that I’m the one strapped to this chair and can’t help her. I just need to get my hands free. I’m almost there.
“I tried to get you to stick with me that night, remember? You were so focused on getting felt up and dry humped by that guy. I tried to get you to leavewith me, and you just waved me off and let that guy touch you. The way you never let me touch you.”
“Becca…”
“No! You want the whole story?! Because you clearly let yourself forget these important details,” Becca screams, pointing the knife at Margeaux now.
I grit my teeth, ready to breathe fire if this woman threatens my girl one more time. She can do whatever she wants to me, but not Margeaux. Margeaux’s complexion is paler than normal. Does she truly believe what Becca is saying about that night? Margeaux was fed so many drinks by that guy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he slipped something in one of her drinks, too. There’s no way she would have been able to make clear decisions. Becca has twisted this entire story to fit her narrative.
“You remember calling me that night, hmm?” Becca asks. This gets both my and Margeaux’s attention.
“I…I didn’t,” Margeaux whispers, scratching the side of her head as if the details will magically come to her.
“Ohhh. You did! I answered and tried talking to you, tried to figure out where you were. I thought you were finally calling me because you wantedme.Choseme.” Becca sniffles, like these memories are just as painful for her to relive. “I heardeverything. I heard how much you laughed with him in the car. I heard how you wanted him. I heard how willing you were to let him fuck you. Over and over.”
“Willing!?” Margeaux is back on guard. “The fuck I was! If you were truly listening toeverything, then you heard how out of it I was. I said ‘no’!
“Psh. Then you were a moaning pig the rest of the night. I listened to it all. Every grunt. Every lick. Every squeak of a bedspring. And the worst part is that you called me because you wanted me to hear it. You knew how much I loved you. How could you not? The entire team could see it. And I sat through the hours of torture. I subjected myself to hearing him have you. When all I ever got from you was a friendly hug, or a high-five. You never saw me how I saw you.”
“Becca. You never said anything. I was eighteen. How could I have known?”
