Chapter 24
“What the fuck is that?!” Kiki shouts.
“Someone’s here,” Kai says, stating the obvious in an eerily calm voice.
Both of them are frozen in place, staring at the door with wide eyes and trembling hands, waiting for another knock, or a scream, or worse.
But nothing comes. Whoever’s at the door doesn’t knock again.
We all crane our necks for any sounds from the other side of the door—footsteps walking away, or maybe ragged breaths, but all I can hear is my own frantic heart.
When the silence isn’t broken by our unexpected visitor, Kiki pivots and breaks it herself. “You’re behind this,” she whispers as she turns on her heels to face me, eyes narrowing to slits. “Who is that?”
“I-I don’t—”
“Is it your dad?” she shouts loud enough that Kai flinches.
“My dad’s in jail,” I reply as calmly as I can.
“Then you sent someone else. One of his friends,” Kiki continues, rambling until she finds an explanation that makes sense. A way to pin the blame on me.
Papi doesn’t have any friends. None of us do, I think but don’t say out loud.
Because it doesn’t matter. Nothing I say matters.
Kiki has made up her mind about who’s responsible for whatever’s going on here tonight and nothing’s going to change that.
Just like everyone else in this goddamn town. I’m guilty, no matter what.
“Kiki—” Kai’s protest is cut short by more pounding at the door, this time violent enough to make the sturdy wood tremble. Both of them yelp as they back away from the door, but I’m still stuck in place.
“That’s it,” Kiki mutters under her breath, pulling her eyes free from the door and marching straight toward me.
I’d forgotten about the abandoned knife on the ground until Kiki picks it back up, the metal glinting as she holds it up beside her shoulder. She’s not coming to attack me this time, though.
She has something else in mind.
“Kiki, what the f—”
“They won’t get us if we have her,” she announces before Kai can finish, reaching out to grab me by the arm.
She manages to catch me off guard, my brain still too frazzled by the chaos of the past several seconds to think to run away, and gets a vise grip around my arm.
Immediately I attempt to wriggle away but there’s no point.
Going outside means facing whoever hurt Carla and probably Timothy.
Even if I did get away from Kiki and found somewhere to hide in the cabin, she’d be able to track me down in no time.
“We can get them to give us the keys and we can get out of here,” she announces to Kai as she tightens her grip on me.
At least she’s not trying to plunge the knife straight through me anymore.
Instead, she keeps it held beside my face like a warning.
A reminder that if I try to run, I’ll be the only one getting hurt.
She tugs me closer to her, hooking an elbow around my neck, the knife hovering inches from my cheek.
This close, I can see how badly Kiki’s hand is shaking—how wide with terror her eyes have become.
When I’m pressed up against her chest, I can feel just how fast her heart is beating, a frantic rhythm pounding against my back as she holds me tight.
Despite her fear, she has a firm grip. Her forearm is sturdy, the muscles taut from years of tossing girls like Carla into the air.
Kiki’s so sure I’m involved with whoever’s hunting us that she’s willing to hold me hostage—use me as bait to lure in the killer.
The realization hits Kai later than it hits me. As soon as it does, he lunges into action.
“Have you lost your mind?” he snaps at his sister, closing the distance between us. Kiki surprises us both when she points the knife toward him instead.
“Back up, Kai,” she warns, as if I’m the one who’s a danger to them, as if I’m the one with the knife. “You and I are getting out of here,” she whispers to him, low and menacing.
“Not like this,” Kai replies, shaking his head. Then, quick as a flash, he knocks his arm against Kiki’s as hard as he can.
The knife goes flying across the room. Kiki gasps, immediately letting go of me to charge after her weapon.
The thought to go after the knife briefly crosses my mind, but I know that’ll just wind up with someone—most likely me—getting hurt.
Kai doesn’t have the same line of thought, though.
As soon as Kiki takes off, he follows behind her.
They’re evenly matched, tumbling to the floor at almost the exact same time.
I can barely make out the shapes of their bodies, but the silence is overtaken by the sounds of them fighting each other for control.
A grunt from Kai. A groan from Kiki. I press myself up against the wall, doing my best to blend in with the shadows as I watch the two of them roll around the ground, the room too dark for me to properly tell them apart.
I’m able to catch a glimpse of something between them—the knife gleaming as it’s held in the air for a fleeting second, followed by the sound of it colliding with the ground again.
“Give it to me!” Kiki shouts, followed by a grunt that must be Kai getting hit by some part of her. “I’m keeping us safe!”
“You’re making things worse!” Kai protests, the strain in his voice making it clear that they’re fighting for the knife. Pushing and pulling. Impossible to tell who’s in control and who’s fighting to take it back.
“Just fucking—”
Whatever Kiki means to say is cut off by a thwack that makes the pit in my stomach rocket into my throat.
I swear I hear a squelch—something wet and so stomach-churning I’m grateful I already threw up everything my body had left to give.
There’s a choked groan, and then silence.
The worst kind of silence, broken by a whimper.
“Kiki…”
Kai’s voice is so quiet I almost miss it.
I scramble forward as quickly as I can, feeling my way through the dark toward the outlines of the twins, but I stop halfway when I realize one of the outlines isn’t moving.
Kiki lies flat on her back. Her eyes wide open, lips parted with nothing but a quiet, barely-there breath.
The knife sticking straight out of her chest.