I text Ben when I finish listening.
Can you cut out everything she says after “Savvy loved Lucy, and she never would have hurt her”?
I walk downstairs to toss the rest of my bagel in the trash as I wait nervously for him to reply. It comes as I’m walking back up the stairs.
Yes. No problem.
I blow out a breath. My hands are shaking a little.
Out of curiosity, do you want me to cut it because it’s not true, or because it is?
I stare at the question for a long time before typing a response.
The truth doesn’t matter.
 |
Maya Harper doesn’t live in Plumpton, and I wish I had better things to do than take a five-hour round-trip drive to Austin to see Savvy’s sister, but I don’t. So I go.
I don’t tell her I’m coming, because she hates me and will probably call the cops. Ambushing her so that I have at least fifteen minutes before the cops arrive seems like the best option.
I have no idea where she lives, and even if Ben does, I can’t bring myself to ask him. I don’t want him to know that I’m going to see her. He already knows too much.
But I do know where Maya works. She’s an assistant at an accounting firm, which has their hours listed on their website. They’re in a half-empty strip mall between an employment agency and an empty storefront with a For Rent sign in the grimy window. I park my car at the back of the small lot by four thirty and wait.
“He fucking deserved it,” Savvy sings in my ear.
I close my eyes, my heart pounding. I don’t want to think about this, but I’m sitting here waiting for the only other person in the world who knows Savvy’s darkest secret.
“I killed—”
Savvy appears next to me, both feet up on the dash, blue toenail polish chipped. She flashes me a grin. “Want to know a secret?”
I nod.
“I killed a dude and I’m not sorry. He fucking deserved it.”
FIVE YEARS AGO
Savvy was still staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to take her up on her offer to murder my husband.
“Even if we wanted to kill him,” I began slowly, “I think we’d be in way over our heads. Seeing as how neither of us has actually ever murdered someone before.”
“Speak for yourself.”
I barked out another laugh, but she didn’t crack a smile. Her demeanor shifted, something dark and serious flashing across her eyes.
“Wait, you…” I trailed off, my breath catching in my throat. She lowered her gaze from mine and nodded, once.
I stared at her, my heart in my throat. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” The word was a whisper, but then she straightened, shaking her head like she wanted to clear it of bad thoughts.
“Yes, seriously,” she said, her tone now with a hard edge to it. “I killed a dude and I’m not sorry. He fucking deserved it.”
“Savvy.” I grabbed her hand. I didn’t think I believed her about not being sorry.
Or maybe I was wrong. Apparently I didn’t know everything about Savvy.
“It’s okay. I don’t have trauma about it.” She shrugged in a way that was supposed to convey how casual she felt, but it seemed forced to me.
“Who was he? What did he do to you?”
“Troy. An asshole I met in a bar who thought he could put his hands on me. He was wrong.” She flashed me a dark grin.
“Jesus, Savvy—”
“I’m fine.”
“Did you go to the police? It was self-defense, right?”
“The police.” She snorted. “No. I think the self-defense argument would have looked a little thin, given how many times I stabbed him.”
“How—how many times did you stab him?” My voice was a whisper.
“Maybe a few more times than was strictly necessary. Plus a couple more for good luck.”
I didn’t know whether I was horrified or impressed.
“I thought the blood would bother me more, honestly.” Savvy shrugged. “It was a mess, which was annoying. This guy saw me coming out of the restroom with blood all over my hands, and I panicked for a minute, and then just went, ‘Oh my god, my period is so bad today!’ You should have seen the look on his face.”
I gaped at her.
“And then I put him in my car, drove him out to the swamp, and dumped him in there. I thought for sure they’d find the body eventually, but I never heard anything. Maybe the gators ate him.”
Impressed. I was impressed.
“You put him in your car? A dead body? How did you even get him in there?”
“Hey.” She flexed her biceps. “I’m strong.” “Lifting-a-dead-body strong?”
“He wasn’t a big guy.”
I gave her a skeptical look.
“It took fucking forever,” she mumbled. “Thank god I had a hatchback.
I could just sort of drag the body in there and cover him with a blanket.”
I barked out a laugh. I quickly clapped my hand over my mouth to cut it off. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny.”
“It’s hilarious.” She poured a shot of tequila into a glass and nudged it in my direction. She poured one for herself and immediately tossed it back.
I lifted mine as well, but hesitated as I watched her fill her glass again. “That’s why you left college,” I said quietly. “Your mom keeps telling
everyone that you missed home, but that wasn’t it.”
She rolled her eyes and threw back the second shot. “Who the fuck misses Plumpton? No. I didn’t like college. I’m supposed to take out tens of thousands of dollars in student loans just so I can sit in a lecture hall while a bored professor recites everything I just read in the wildly overpriced textbook? No thanks.”
I watched as she downed another shot. She lowered the glass to the bar, and I reached for her hand, lacing our fingers together.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” She shrugged.
“Seriously, Savvy,” I said softly. “You don’t have to pretend with me that it wasn’t a big deal.”
She nudged her glass with her finger, glancing up at me briefly. She lifted one shoulder, like no big deal, but her eyes told a different story. She squeezed my hand tightly.
“He deserved it,” she whispered. “And so does Matt.”
