Page 52 of Unwell
Her wide eyes found mine at last as she let the shears go. ‘I’m gonna go to hell.’
I held her by the arms, willing her to feel my false calm. ‘Not while I’m here. Now go. You have to protect my baby.’
Her eyes narrowed before she turned and stumbled toward the trees, dragging a hand over the bark like a child finger-painting. The sight made me shudder.
‘Oh, Robert,’ I said, glancing down at his mutilated corpse. Ginny must not have believed his story ofElijah. The scent went away after I threw it at his damned head. ‘It serves you right.’
When I turned back to Larry, he hadn’t moved. He stood rooted to the spot, his fingers clenched against his stomach, staring at Robert.
What I had to do sickened me. As clear as the solution was, I knew it would haunt me forever.
He was my chance.
My baby’s only chance.
‘Larry,’ I said softly, stepping closer.
Confusion filled those big, soulful eyes of his. Such a sweet boy.
‘Do you know what Robert did?’ I whispered, as if conspiring with him.
Larry shook his head and wavered on the spot.
‘He hurt your rats,’ I said. ‘He strung them up with ribbons tied round their necks.’
As I told the lie, I began to think it wasn’t a lie at all. Robert would have had access to the ribbons. He enjoyed hurting Ginny. He must have been the one to torment her. The piece of shit.
Larry flinched.
‘No,’ he mumbled, his head shaking harder. ‘No. Not my friends.’
‘He laughed while they choked.’ I went on, my throat tightening. ‘He laughed, Larry.’
Larry clapped his hands over his ears. ‘No. Stop.’
But I didn’t.
I leaned closer, forcing the cruelty out in sharp whispers that tore me to pieces internally.
‘Their little bellies were split wide and filled with maggots. He cut them. Left them to rot. He wanted you to find them like that. Wanted to hurt you.’
Larry’s face crumpled as his big body swayed.
‘It’s true,’ I said. Each mean word was like glass shards in my mouth. ‘I saw it.’
The moment he broke had my heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
With a roar, he dropped to his knees and snatched the shears up from the ground. With unrestrained fury, he plunged them into Robert’s remaining eye. The sound was a sickeningly wet crunch.
‘Make him pay,’ I urged when Larry faltered, eye goop leaking between his fingers.
He howled and stabbed again. And again. The forest echoed with the animalistic sound of his grief. At some point he lost the shears and pressed his fingers into the flesh, ripping. I vomited as I watched him rip my husband apart.
When I saw a ribcage, I screamed, despite feeling numb. Screamed until someone heard.
Then came the shouts. The thundering footsteps.
And still, my sweet boy Larry pulled apart muscle and sinew and bone.
