Page 25 of The Last To Know (Hallowed Halls Series #2)
“W hy aren’t you eating?” he asked, watching her push her food around on the plate. “This is your favorite meal.” He’d stopped by her house unexpectedly because he sensed something in her voice when he called her.
She didn’t look at him. “I’m not really hungry. I think I’m coming down with something.” As if to emphasize the deceit, she coughed.
“That’s too bad. And it’s your favorite.” His tone turned hard. Why was she lying to him? They shared everything with each other.
He carried their plates to the sink and dumped the wasted food down the disposal while trying to harness his anger. “How’s work?” he asked once he’d returned to the table.
“Good.” She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. A nervous habit.
His mouth thinned distastefully. How many times had he asked her not to smoke around him? “Put it out.”
She immediately removed the cigarette from her mouth and stubbed it out. “Sorry.”
“What are you so nervous about?” She only smoked when stressed by work or by one deadbeat boyfriend after another .
“Nothing. Just work.” The fib rolled off her tongue with the confidence of someone who had plenty of practice.
“I thought you said work was good?”
She finally looked at him. “It is. Mostly.” She blew out a cigarette-scented breath his way. “Just my new boss. He’s being a real jerk.”
She worked at a diner that had changed hands multiple times. He decided to humor her for a bit. “Why is he being a jerk?” It was always something. He’d done his best to be patient with her through the years because he, of all people, understood the difficulties she faced in adjusting to the world after what they’d gone through, and she was the last of his family.
“He has it out for me. He told me I’d have to start working the late-night shift from here on out. You know there are only losers who come in at that time. Most only want coffee. They don’t tip. It’s awful.”
Same story he’d heard for years. They were out to get her.
“Quit. You have some money saved right?”
Her gaze dropped to the ashtray. She had a nasty heroin habit that she’d promised she’d beat.
He grabbed her arm and pushed her shirt sleeve up. Track marks spoke the truth even if she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, Petie. I tried.” Tears filled her eyes.
He let her go and paced the tiny kitchen of her trailer. This weakness was something he didn’t understand.
“You know I tried.” She tailed him around as he walked.
He turned on her and unleashed his fury. “Do I? And how would I know that? You haven’t been able to string more than a day or two of sobriety together since I found you again.”
She flinched then began bawling at his rebuke. In the past it had always worked. But he had other things to consider now. At one time, he’d planned to make her part of his immortals. They talked of being together forever. He told her about the sisters he’d give her—like the ones they once had.
“Go wash your face.”
She wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. “ We’re okay, aren’t we, Petie?”
He forced a smile. “Yes, we’re okay. Go ahead. We’ll have some ice cream.”
She laughed and hugged his neck.
Once she’d gone, he found her phone and checked it. She’d called two numbers. Both of them he recognized. Her betrayal sealed her fate.
He scooped ice cream and shoved aside what must be done.
She padded down the hallway. “What flavor did you get?”
“What do you think?” He held out the bowl of chocolate ice cream.
She clapped her hands. “Oh, thank you, thank you.”
“Let’s sit.” He returned to his seat across from hers.
“How are our plans coming?” She shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.
At one time, they’d been on the same page. Getting a family together that would last forever. She’d let her weakness for drugs cloud her thinking. He’d thought he could save her. But now he saw she was unworthy of saving.
The knife in his pocket waited to be used. He gazed at her, taking in every inch of her face. Before the drugs she’d been beautiful. Years of abuse had destroyed her beauty. Now, the only ones who sniffed around were just as messed up as she was.
She caught him staring. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” She rubbed her hand over her mouth and chin.
He chuckled. “You missed it. Here, let me.” He rose and went over to her. She froze when he pushed her stringy dark hair aside. He placed his hand around her neck.
“W-what are you doing?”
He removed the knife. “Taking care of a problem. Goodbye, little sister. I’m sorry, but you are no longer worthy.”
Before she could react, he slid the knife over her throat, ending all ability to talk. He would spare her the rest of what he did to those he found unworthy. She was, after all, his sister.
He stood back and watched her grab for her throat and try to stop the flow of blood while her frantic eyes held his, a single tear slipping down her face.
“Don’t fight it. Let death come.”
But she did. She fought harder in death than she ever had in life. She flopped over on her side and then down onto the floor as the last of her life left her body.
Once she was gone, he knelt beside her. “I’m sorry it had to end like this.” He closed her eyes, careful to avoid touching her blood.
He pulled gloves from his pocket and went about wiping any fingerprints he’d left. Not that it would matter. He wasn’t in the system. But she was. She’d been busted many times for drugs and selling herself to buy drugs.
The trailer was set on a couple of acres in the woods. She had no neighbors to spy. No record of him in connection to her. Still, he searched the house from top to bottom. If she’d called the police and spoken to him , then it stood to reason she planned to betray him.
Once he’d made sure the place was clean, he wrapped her lifeless body in the dirty living room rug and carried her out to the car, but not before writing one word. Eventually her absence would be reported. They’d come looking for her. And when they did, he wanted them to see what her fate had been. Below the word, he added something just for her. Snitch.