Chapter 13 Ricky
We’ve been laying here, naked and wrapped up in my black, silk bedsheets for what feels like forever.
Neither of us talking. Just the simple sounds of our breathing and matching heartbeats filling the space around us.
Heather’s head rests on my chest as she snuggles into me.
One leg draped over my waist while she circles her index finger around my nipple.
I haven’t closed my eyes since we stopped fucking for the third time, and that only happened when she told me she was getting sore. Pain isn’t something I ever want her to feel with me, but at the same time it’s not my fault I can’t keep my hands off of her.
She shouldn’t be so addictive.
When I told her Patrick was the one driving the car, she couldn’t believe it at first because they were always friends in school. She never thought he would be the type of person to hurt someone and then just drive off, leaving them to die alone and in pain.
How do I know this, you ask?
Because the night I found her by the side of the road, she said two things to me.
“Four.”
“Black… Pontiac.”
And it was then that I knew Patrick and his little football buddies were the ones who hurt her, because nobody in this town drives a car like that…
except them. When I woke up the next day, having to relive it as though it was just some stupid dream, something stuck in the back of my head.
So I watched her, for the entire day. She never called me, texted, or even came to my house. It was like I didn’t exist to her.
So I stayed on her tail, and the moment I watched Patrick’s car hit her, I had to relive all those emotions from the night I initially found her. Only this time… I knew exactly who was responsible.
“What do we do now?” Heather asks softly.
“The drugs I slipped into their private keg should be working any minute now.”
“You drugged them?” she asks, snapping her head in my direction, and all I do is nod.
“I did. For you.”
Nobody touches the Gamma Nu brothers’ beer apart from them.
I know this because the one time I caught a freshman at a party doing it, they stripped him naked and threw things at him the whole night.
It was only when I stepped up that they stopped.
Why I stayed living with those four pieces of shit is beyond me.
I should’ve just gone home and distanced myself from my father’s legacy.
But no… he said I had to, so I did.
If only to keep him happy and his bullshit as far away from me and my mother as possible.
I’m exactly like my mother. Which was something he hated most.
“I want them to hurt,” she deadpans, and I stare into her beautiful amber-coloured eyes as they gaze back at me with hope. “I want their last moments to be as painful as possible.”
I tickle her back gently and smile. “As you wish,” I whisper softly, and she smiles wide.
“I want to be the one to do it.” She bites the corner of her lip, waiting for me to tell her it’s okay.
Through the entire time we were together she had only ever killed her father.
Me? I have more kills under my belt than she could ever imagine, but I can’t deny her this. I can’t take this away from her.
She needs this.
We both do.
I brush a loose curl from her temple and tuck it behind her ear.
Loving her even more for wanting to punish them herself.
For taking back her power—even if it’s just for tonight—and it will be a glorious sight to see.
Her eyes glisten as the moonlight shines through the small gap in the curtains directly behind the bed we lay on.
“You” —I kiss her forehead— “can do whatever you want.”
The music from downstairs shuts off entirely and laughter proceeds to fill its absence, along with heavy footsteps and the clicking of heels against the hardwood floor as the last of the stragglers begin to leave the frat house.
Heather and I get dressed as quickly as possible and quietly make our way to the top of the stairs, staying within the shadows so nobody sees us.
“Bye!” a few girls call cheerily as they exit through the front door.
“See you at the game tomorrow, brother!!” someone else calls.
“OOH, OOH, OOH!” men begin to chant as they walk through the door.
“How much did the three of you have to drink?” a female voice asks.
“Too f-fucking much.” Jack chuckles drunkenly, stumbling slightly.
The three familiar voices—soon to be dead—all laugh with the rest of the football team, and before I know it, the door to the house slams shut.
“Now we wait,” I whisper.
“Wait for what?”
I hold up my hand in front of us, splaying each finger out. “Five,” I begin to count. “Four. Three. Two…” And before I can get the final count out, I hear three hefty thumps. “One.” I grin devilishly.
“Can we go downstairs now?”
“Yeah. The drug doesn’t last that long, so we need to be quick.
” Heather presses her hands to my chest, playfully shoving me off of her so she has space to run down the stairs.
A wide smile is displayed on her face as she does, and I haven’t felt as happy as I do now, in two-hundred days.
Because this is the first time… she’s going to kill with me.
It took a while for us to drag the bodies of Jack, Toby, and Chad into the kitchen and tie them to the dining table chairs.
Thick, brown rope is wrapped tightly around their torsos, their arms and wrists stretched and knotted behind the backrest, and each ankle spread and tied to a separate chair leg.
I cross my arms over my chest, resting my lower back against the edge of the kitchen island next to where the love of my life stands. “Are you okay?” I ask, looking down at her.
Her right shoulder lifts in a half shrug but she refuses to take her eyes off of the three men sitting in front of us. “Is this when it would’ve happened?”
“No.” I shake my head solemnly. “When I found you, it was after they turned up to the party.”
“And they just…” She swallows thickly, like the words are excruciating to say. “Left me there?”
I uncross my arms, pulling her by the shoulders to stand in front of me, and circle my arms around her waist. “Yes. They know they killed you earlier, so as far as they’re concerned right now… you’re dead. So, this is going to be wild seeing their reactions.”
“I’ll bet.”
Jack releases a groggy moan from the back of his throat, his head lulling backwards as he coughs a few times, and we watch as the others slowly follow suit and begin to come around in unison.
It was only enough to knock them out for a short period of time too.
I knew exactly when the party ended, so I was able to time everything just right.
Dosing their keg, knowing the third one would be the last one they opened before people started to leave.
Everything was perfectly set up in preparation for tonight.
Usually, when I get to this point, I’m the one who kills them.
But who am I to deny my world her revenge?
“What… the fuck, bro.” Jack speaks first, releasing a tired grumble, licking the dryness away from his thin lips.
“How much did we—” Heather and I watch as he begins to fight weakly against the restraints, both of us still going unnoticed as he starts to panic.
His eyes widen in shock when his gaze lands on me and Heather, and I can see a multitude of emotions pass over his face.
But only one remains after he blinks a few times.
Fear. “W-what the… Y-you’re supposed to be—”
“Dead?” she finishes for him. “Yeah, I can see how that would surprise you.” She steps out of my hold and walks towards him, bending at the waist and resting her hands on her knees. “But as you can see… I’m very much alive. The same can’t be said for the three of you though.”
“Dude.” Chad chuckles as he begins to wake up.
“Why am I—” He looks at Heather, and all the colour drains from his face.
“What the fuck!?” he stutters. “Wha-what the FUCK!?” he repeats, but this time with a terrified scream, hysterically thrashing about in the chair until it topples over, and all I can do is look to the ceiling and groan.
Fucking typical.
Chad always was a fucking pussy.
I walk towards him, taking hold of the back of the chair and lifting him back into an upright position, ignoring his protests of this all being a dream.
Toby is the last to come around, except unlike the others, he says nothing. All he does is look between Heather and I, wide-eyed like Jack and Chad, but as quiet as a mouse. Each of them gawking at the girl they murdered in cold blood a few hours ago.
The girl they stole from me.
The very heart they furiously tore from my chest.
“Quiet!!” I bark at Chad while he continues to blubber and scream. And when he doesn’t listen, I ball my fist and punch him square in the face, watching as blood splatters over the side of Toby’s face. But still… the son of a bitch doesn’t react. He doesn’t flinch either, he just sits there, rigid.
“What the fuck is going on!?” Jack cries in panic beside him.
“Jesus Christ,” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “What’s not clicking for you, huh?” I screw my face up, looking at him like he’s the stupidest fucking idiot in the world.
“You’re d-dead! I-I saw you!” Chad whimpers in fear before he eventually turns his attention to me.
“Ricky, what the fuck did you give us!? This can’t be fucking real; Jesus Christ, I’m fucking tripping, man.
” The panic in his voice tells me he knows this isn’t a dream, but his brain is trying to rationalise this moment as best as it can.
“This can’t be real, this can’t be r-real—” he continues to chant over and over again, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and rocking back and forth.
“Chad,” Toby snarls through gritted teeth, leaning his head forward to look at him. It’s the first thing he’s said since he woke up. “Shut. The Fuck. Up!”