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  Then she heard it. The voice on the other end, belligerent and forceful with its message. Now or never.

  At first, devastating pain had consumed her, freezing her from the inside out. But she’d developed an immunity to its viral message after listening to it again and again. No matter how many times she replayed the voicemail, though, Ara still couldn’t hold back her tears.

  They forced you to do this, she’d told herself as she tucked the phone back in her clutch.

  They both deserve this.

  CHAPTER 52

  Raina sat, feeling numb to the typical subway absurdities. The couple next to her, each not a day over twenty-one, painting pictures of their future together, inches from each other’s faces. A future filled with flowery descriptions of social gatherings and climbing the corporate ladder. Only once they reached the top would there be children that they would send off to exclusive private schools where their heads would be filled with the same dreamy nonsense these two were spewing to each other on the train. On a different day, Raina would have told them that it doesn’t work out like that; life sucks you in and then beats you down with the relentless fist of reality.

  She was too tired today and was still trying to piece together what happened at the doctor’s apartment. Staring straight ahead, she barely noticed the hot thirtysomething man asking if she needed help.

  “You’re as pale as a ghost,” he said, sounding genuinely concerned.

  More like being haunted by one or two. She smiled and looked down at her phone, the universal sign of “not interested.” As the subway pulled into the station, she made her way to the sliding doors and started toward the exit.

  “I wasn’t just hitting on you, you know.” The concerned passenger jogged up to meet her.

  “It sure seems like it,” she said, keeping her glance forward.

  “Do you need me to call someone for you? You look like you might pass out.”

  This guy doesn’t quit.

  “Listen, normally I would be super into this attention, and I’d bat my eyes, play damsel in distress. We’d end up at a bar and after a few dirty martinis, I’d be riding you raw. Confirming for you that you really are a great guy. But I don’t have time for this today, and I need you to leave me the hell alone.”

  She stormed past him, tempted to turn around, reel the poor bastard back in and escape to his place. A random man’s apartment sounded like the best place to hide from the police. Any moment they would find something that pointed directly to her in the doctor’s apartment. She was sure of it. The detectives would connect the dots, moments later hauling her away for the murder of some random bitch. Did she actually kill that woman? If she did, it was an accident, but still, how could she be so stupid? Of all the things she’d done in her life, this was going to be the thing that brought her down.

  Ara had to be the mastermind behind Raina’s current unfortunate situation. What did she know, and what was her plan, setting her up like this? But there were too many holes in that theory. In less than ten minutes, she would be at Ara’s apartment, demanding answers.

  We need to talk. On my way. She typed into her phone. The three small dots showing Ara’s unsent response taunted her all the way to her apartment.

  A nagging thought wouldn’t leave Raina’s mind. Somehow deep down she knew, only one of them was going to make it out of this unscathed.

  Ara answered the door just a few seconds after Raina knocked. Clearly waiting for her arrival. Without saying a word, she moved to the side, indicating for her to come in, eyeing Raina as she walked through the door and into the living room.

  Ara's lips gathered into a stressed crease, pulling the skin tight on her face and revealing sunken cheeks and large, shaded bags under her eyes. Raina knew she had been crying. She’d watched Ara’s heart break enough times.

  It was a rare occasion that neither of them knew what to say. The ugly road they were about to start down was so dark, but after years of what on the surface seemed to be a healthy, supportive sistership, they had reached their final destination.

  “What do you know?” Raina demanded, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears, trying not to show how uncomfortable she was.

  But Ara wasn’t going to let her lead the conversation, she made that clear. “I don’t know what you're talking about. I know a lot of things.”

  “Tell me, Ara. Tell me everything. I’m not going to play your manipulative games tonight.”

  “My games?” Ara’s voice rose well above the volume of a normal conversation, “You have some nerve, Raina Martin, do you know that? You sleep with my husband while pretending to be a sister to me, then you decide you don’t have time for ‘games’?”

  Raina flinched. Not that Ara’s anger wasn't uncalled for after finding out her husband was having an affair with her stepsister, but it was uncommon, unnatural even, coming from Ara. Her backbone must have aligned. Damn you, Brad, why did you leave me alone in this mess? Raina thought.

  “We didn't want it to happen, Ara. But it did. We couldn’t help it!”

  Ara exploded in a scary fit of laughter. “Don’t kid yourself, Raina. You totally wanted it to happen. You wanted to be able to hurt me anyway you could. You’re a no good whore and that's all you ever were to him. Not someone he could be proud of. A dirty little secret he wouldn't even brag to his single friends about in a locker room.”

  “You have no idea what he felt for me!” Raina trembled at the thought of Brad being embarrassed of her. She’d loved him. It wasn’t her fault the universe had played a sick joke, allowing them both to fall in love with the same man.

  Ara’s eyes pierced through Raina’s skin. Focused and fierce, and for the first time Raina was afraid of her. The hatred burning through her eyes could only manifest from her knowing everything.

  “You told me once you’d never hate me, that we were sisters,” Raina said.

  “Sisters don’t do what you did, and you know that.”

  Shaking her head vigorously, left to right, Raina said, “You’re wrong there, Ara. We always hurt the people we love the most.”

  “That’s your excuse for sleeping with my husband, destroying my life? You did all of that to me because you just love me so much? You wanted him to kill me, Raina, am I supposed to just move past that?”

  “Ara,” Raina begged.

  “I regret everything. Meeting you, taking care of you. Being your friend and standing beside you as your sister. God, like that wasn’t a job in itself! Allowing you in my life was one of the worst decisions I have ever made. Hate doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel for you. I loathe you!”

  The words stung more than she expected. Without even realizing what she was doing, she reached into her bag, grabbed hold of the cold metal inside, and aimed a handgun at her stepsister.

  CHAPTER 53

  Ara tried to remain calm, yet with death taunting her at the hands of someone she once trusted, she questioned whether any of it was worth it. Brad, Raina, her New York glitz and glam life. Somewhere deep down inside of her, she had to know the game she was getting into with Brad. She had to know that men like that didn’t love only you forever. If they could ever stop loving themselves long enough to love you at all. What she would do right now to disappear into a small town in the middle of the country. Give it all up, work at a coffee shop. Baristas must live the best lives. Was that really going to be her final thought? She would come home, make small talk about her day with Lane before they’d tumble into the bedroom. Or onto the kitchen floor.

  Lane. Why couldn’t the universe just have given him to her first? His recent confession that he loved her since that first New Year’s Eve party so many years ago . . . That night, like many of her nights, started with her being irritated with Raina and ended with Brad sweeping her off her feet. Forcing her into a daze she was just breaking free from in this very moment. Funny how life brought you right back to where you started, despite all your efforts to move straight forward away from the messes yo
u encounter along the way.

  If only Brad knew that night, his last night, how their life together would end. The moment was still clear in her head. It was one she would never forget. She had paused to take one more breath to fill her lungs before opening the door to their perfect apartment. Brad was sitting wide legged on their sofa, an elbow on each upper thigh and head in hands. The tiniest inkling of sweat outlining his hairline, despite the freezing temperatures outside. Clearly deep in his own thoughts, he hadn’t noticed her until she closed the door behind her, louder than normal on purpose.

  Startled, he’d looked up at her. She could see in his eyes, for just a moment, a cloud of sadness. For a man who identified himself as always being able to manipulate a situation, he’d for once lost hold of the reins. That night he was torn between what to do and what he had promised.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I know.” He would never see her cry over this.

  “Things have changed so much the past few years. And you and I, we’ve changed also. I didn’t see it happening at first.” He brushed his hair back with both hands dramatically, a slight tremor popping his heel from the floor. “And then it was like BAM! Right in my face.”

  Ara flinched, hanging on every word of his explanation. Desperate to see him at work, justifying what he was about to do to her. As if it could be justified.

  “I never wanted to hurt you, Ara. You’re just too . . .” He stood, shifting his weight as he considered his next words carefully. “It just wasn’t as easy as it first seemed when we met.”

  “Is that what you wanted? Someone who was easy?” Like a movie playing in her head, she saw him offering Raina the slightest attention, just a few strokes to her ego to get her grinding like a porn star. His head tilted back, enjoying every second of pleasure he didn’t need to work for. Was that really all it took for him to throw his life with her away?

  “Buffets are easy, Brad, but it certainly doesn’t mean the food’s good.” It felt like a horrible clichéd statement when she said it, but somehow it fit to her horribly clichéd life.

  She let him walk up to touch her, side stepping at the last moment into position. His back now to the door, just as she had planned. If only her life plan worked as smoothly.

  “But they fill you up, Ara. And sometimes being full is more important than how it tastes.”

  Repulsed at his willingness to lower his standards, she didn’t have time to feel sick. Her husband, who only wore custom-tailored suits, who thrived in a façade of success and perfection, was willing to throw it all away for easy sex.

  In an honest moment, her eyes met his and she wanted to throw herself at him. Promise she could be easy, too, that everything could be how he wants it, if only he stopped now. Apologize for anytime she’d let him down with her moods, or for the times she’d preferred sleep over sex. Instead, swallowing hard, she reminded herself that despite it all, her flaws and liabilities, she was worth it. A mantra she had been repeating to herself all night. After all, it was she who was slumming for a lying cheat who was plotting to kill her. She deserved better.

  “I’m sorry, Ara.” The dream that haunted her sleep since she first heard that voicemail came into her mind. Brad making love to her. Him brushing the hair from her face and kissing her cheek before placing two hands around her neck. Closing off the air supplying life to her body, sending her thrashing for him to release. He’d look down as if she was a problem being solved, before her eyes would roll back, a lonely blackness consuming her.

  This wasn’t a dream. This was a nightmare, and it was as real as could be. Her husband, who promised to love and cherish her, formed a plan with her stepsister to eliminate her. He went to take a step toward her. She had to stop him before he got any closer, she could not let him gain another inch on her.

  “I’m pregnant. I just wanted you to know that before you tried to kill me. I wanted you to know you’d be killing both of us for her.”

  Slapped with surprise, he had stopped, dead in his step, having no idea she knew his plan. “I know, Ara, I saw the test in the trash and then at dinner tonight, you didn’t drink your wine. That’s when I knew for sure.”

  “And you’re still going to go through with it?”

  Eyes tightly squeezed shut, Ara snapped back to present day, a scene that was eerily similar.

  “What is going on here?” Lane stood in the doorway, right hand on his gun, left on his radio, focused on the gun Raina had dropped down to her side.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Raina?!” he yelled, standing in front of Ara. “God, you crazy, crazy woman. For Chrissake, put the gun down!”

  “You don’t know anything,” she yelled, a mixture of snot and spit escaping her mouth with her words.

  “I certainly don’t know how you got a gun, that’s for damn sure.”

  What did it matter? Ara thought, her step-sister had one, and she wanted to finish what Brad hadn’t.

  “Ask her, Lane. Ask her what she did,” Raina demanded. Pointing the gun in their direction.

  Ara, two palms against Lane’s back, inhaled his scent, holding onto its smell in case it was the last time he let her in this close. Just in case he never wanted to speak to her again after knowing what she did.

  “Ask her!” Raina yelled pointing the gun more directly behind Lane.

  “You need to put the gun down.”

  “She’s a murderer!” Raina yelled as Ara pulled away from Lane, lunging toward her, only to be pulled back. If only he had been there when she murdered Brad to stop her as he just had.

  Only she and Brad would ever really know how that night played out.

  That night she pulled their gun from her clutch and held it, firmly pointed at his chest. The same gun he had purchased to end her life. The gun that was part of his perfectly-constructed stories of enraged political opponents and Ara’s returning depression. “Babe, whoa! Let’s talk about it. You don’t want to do this,” Brad had cried. Desperate for the first time in his life, realizing it could all end so quickly.

  Ara had held the gun in her gloved hand, cool. Calm. “No, I don’t. But it’s me or you, isn’t it? That’s your great surprise for me tonight. That’s why we have this stupid gun.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re acting crazy,” he said.

  “I’m the crazy one? You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing behind my back, setting everything up so you could get away with it!” She swallowed the lump making a home in the back of her throat. “I also know that she wants this gun pointed at me, and that you’re so pussy whipped, or just a pussy in general, that you were going to do it. Kill me and your child.” She paused. “Your wife. Who you promised to love and protect for the rest of your life.”

  Hesitantly he moved one foot forward, arms in the air like a common criminal.

  “What? I could have never done that.” His eyes met hers. “She’s the crazy one. Not me. Certainly not you, baby. I didn’t mean to say that; this is just getting out of hand.”

  “You really think I’m so damn stupid!” she’d yelled. “You think so little of me, but you’re wrong. I know everything.”

  Brad took a few more steps toward hers, his arms reaching for her. “I always loved you, Ara. I wasn’t going to go through with it. Never.”

  The last words she heard him say, “I promise,” with the same inauthenticity he promised many times before.

  She shot him with her eyes squeezed shut, the bullet drilling into the center of his chest. The first time they met was the last thing she saw flash before her eyes. His confident smirk, looking down at her. One night, one look, that sent them spiraling to a doomed conclusion. She had pulled the trigger, eyes tightly closed, and heard his life end on their immaculately polished floor.

  The infinite pain of that night returned as she told Lane, sharing each and every detail. Wanting nothing more than to finally come clean.

  The last thing Ara wanted was for Lane to look at her the way
he was now: confused and overcome with anger. Biting her lip, she shook her head, silently begging him to love her, to understand why she’d had to do the things she did that night.

  I never meant to hurt you, Ara. Brad’s words stung like a wasp determined to ruin a perfect picnic. He tried to destroy her life, the aftershocks still causing her pain in his death. Standing here in front of Lane, she sadly understood what he’d meant by those five words. Lane was never supposed to be a victim in her revenge. Prior to Brad’s death, she hadn’t thought much about the consequences of her actions, she didn’t plan on having anything to live for. But now, all she wanted was for Lane to see her the way he had moments ago. Falling in love with him was something she hadn’t planned for.

  “I’m sorry, Lane, please understand.” She reached for him, ignoring the gun firmly gripped in his right hand. Holding his hands in hers, she tried to explain.

  “Save it, Ara,” Raina interrupted. “He’s a goddamn cop. He will arrest you. You’re nothing but a murderer.” Despite Raina’s taunting words ringing loud into the room, Lane and her eyes remained locked. The rage was building inside her. Looking up at him, she looked for any sign of understanding. Anything from him at all. But he stood, emotionless before conceding.

  “She’s right. I’m going to have to call this in, Ara,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes stung red at their corners.

  “I can explain. It was them, Lane, all them, don’t you understand? It would have been me on the floor dead. Brad was going to kill me.” She held both of his hands in hers, his right still firm to his gun. Squeezing tighter, she mouthed I love you, unable to say them through her tears.

  “Boo friggin’ hoo. What a love story,” Raina yelled through laughter. “You just can’t get it right, can you?”

  “Shut up,” Ara said, her eyes never leaving Lane’s.

  “It’s over, Ara. Brad’s laughing at you right now from the grave, I’m sure of it. To think I thought we were going to have to get rid of you! You destroyed yourself.”