Page 24 of Corrupted Pleasure

I was too tired for all this. Going on two hours of shitty sleep, all of this crap, I just couldn’t keep up.

“Then what?” I asked, though I didn’t really care.

“To burn down the house,” she explained, like she just announced it was about to rain. Then she glanced at the label. “Look at that. It is actually flammable. Everclear Grain Alcohol. It even sounds cheap, just like Garrett.”

“What?” Ivy asked casually, and my head whipped behind me. I didn’t hear her enter the living room. “We’re burning down the house?”

“Yes,” Juliette said.

“No,” I shouted at the same time.

“Come on, D,” Juliette shot. “The prick deserves it. You know he does.” I shook my head. Garrett deserved it, but we didn’t. We’d get in trouble. Destruction of property. “It is either this or we cut off his dick.”

“Well, fuck,” Ivy chirped, reminding me of a bird. “I have a sensitive stomach. So if we are taking votes, I vote we burn down this house.”

“Me too,” Juliette exclaimed, happy to have someone on board. “Cutting off a dick would make me puke.”

Then she gagged, making me believe she’d throw up if we continued this conversation. Definitely not murderer material there.

“Let’s burn down his house,” Juliette insisted. “We can’t let men treat us like dirt.”

I couldn’t believe she was seriously considering doing this. Even Juliette wasn’t that insane, was she?

“What’s going on?” Wynter’s voice sounded alarmed.

“We’re burning down the house,” Juliette replied without missing a beat as she tried to give me one of the bottles of vodka. I backed away from her with my hands up. No way was I taking that.

“Are you fucking nuts?” Wynter hissed, her blonde curls bouncing wildly as her eyes darted between the three of us. “We’ll get caught. Not to mention it’s illegal to burn someone’s house down.”

Thank God for Wynter, the voice of reason.

“We won’t get caught,” Juliette told her confidently as she handed Ivy a bottle, rag, and a box of matches. Where in the fuck she found rags and matches, I had no idea. “Besides, we either burn down the house or cut his dick off.”

She promptly gagged again, and for a minute, she looked like she’d actually throw up.

“Don’t leave bodily fluids behind,” Ivy muttered. “They’ll trace that shit back to us.”

While Juliette and I stared at Ivy for even knowing something like that, Wynter groaned out loud, probably ready to murder us all.

“Juliette, don’t be stupid,” Wynter reprimanded her. She was the youngest one out of the four of us, though only by a few months. Yet, she acted the most mature. “The neighbors saw us. The police will know it was us. He has security cameras outside.”

Ivy was no longer paying attention to anything but the bottle of vodka she’d opened and placed on the coffee table waiting to find out when she could start to wreak havoc. She kept playing with the matches, with an almost bored expression on her face.

Swipe, light, blow out. Swipe, light, blow out.It was like watching a kid play with a brand new toy. And each time she lit the match, the embers of it reminded me of her hair.

“Wynter is right,” I urged. “Let’s just go before we get into trouble and end up behind bars.”

Ivy hissed and all our heads turned to look at her. Fire from her match had burned her finger making her jump and bump into the coffee table. I stood up, and in the next heartbeat, all hell broke loose. The bottle of vodka on the table dropped to the ground, crashing against the hardwood, vodka spilling across the decorative rug. The scent of the alcohol in the air was instant. And the four of us watched in horror as the lit match flew out of Ivy’s fingers and dropped into the middle of that growing puddle.

It was like watching a slow motion picture as her burning match fluttered through the air, lower and lower until it hit the rug. A sharp inhale and then swish… the flames spread and screams started. One second it was a flicker, the next it was an inferno.

Ivy tripped over her own two feet and Juliette caught her before she could faceplant on the floor. I grabbed a throw blanket and started fanning the flames. It made it worse.

While the three of us screamed, Wynter kept her head.

“Are there fire extinguishers here?” she yelled, trying to be heard over Juliette’s and Ivy’s high-pitched screams.

“I don’t know.”