The Bad Ones (25 page)

“Fair point.”

The plan had been to lure Matt to the house and either kill him there, or convince him Dulcie was just some poor girl in an abusive relationship with a psycho – at Con's insistence. That way if he managed to escape early on and get the police involved, she would be free from any guilt. One of them had to remain free, that was crucial, and of the two of them, Dulcie was the best at pulling off innocent and unassuming.

Matt being at the station was fortuitous, Dulcie had honestly thought she wouldn't get the chance to kill him. When he'd run away from Con's house, they'd figured he'd gone straight to the cops. Not too much of a problem – they're plan had already been accomplished, Con looked like the bad guy. Hopefully, they'd be long gone before anyone would even know they were missing. It would, though, perfectly set up an alibi for what had happened.

Con had gone crazy, killed his father, killed Matt's friends, burned down his house, and then taken Dulcie to the station, to their
special spot
, which Matt knew
alllll about
. Who knew what happened after that? Con was crazy, after all. Clearly, he'd done something with Dulcie. Absconded with her. Kidnapped her.
Killed her
.

“You're so beautiful right now,” he whispered, his hand cupping the side of her face, tilting her up so she had to look at him. He fell on her mouth, kissing her in a way fit for the end of a fairy tale.

One of those stories that came out of the Black Forest, and ended with children being eaten and big bad wolves going home satisfied.

“So close to done. I can't believe we're gonna pull this off,” she gasped. His fingers slid further into her hair, and she could feel the bloody hand print he left behind on her cheek.

“I can. We're unstoppable. We're goddamn amazing,” he growled, then pushed his tongue into her mouth. She kissed him back, wanting more from him. Wanting everything.

If I could just die like this … what a beautiful moment … what a beautiful man …

“
Dulcie,
” he whispered when he pulled away. She had her eyes closed and one of her hands on the back of his neck, holding him close.

“What?”

“You're bleeding.”

She opened her eyes and saw that he was looking down, so she followed his gaze. There was blood underneath her heel, and she remembered she'd slashed open her foot when she'd been downstairs.

“Oh, from the glass on the floor, I cut myself. It's not very deep.”

“
Too bad.
”

There was a flash of red and Dulcie gasped. Squeezed her eyes shut tight and dug her fingernails into his neck. She took a couple deep breaths, then looked down at herself again.

The knife from Con's kitchen, the one Matt had stolen, was now buried in her. Con's free hand was still wrapped around the handle. She struggled to keep calm and watched as blood began to stain her white shirt.

“I didn't … I wasn't ...” she panted. She felt his lips against her forehead.

“Baby, I wish you could feel this the way I do.
Fucking amazing.
”

He twisted the knife and she finally cried out. She jerked away from him and almost threw up as she felt the blade slide free from her body. Her hands instantly went to cover the wound, though it didn't help any. Warm blood flowed over and around her fingers.

Dulcie fell to her knees and started laughing. She lifted her right hand and turned it over in front of her face. Let her eyes wander over the crimson red. Such a beautiful color. Her laughter turned to sobbing and she let her head fall forward.

“I wasn't ready,” she cried. He moved to squat in front of her and she felt the tip of the blade under her chin, then he pushed up, forcing her to look at him again.

“Doesn't matter. It had to be done,” he assured her. She stared at him through her tears. Stared at those blue, blue eyes.

“But I wanted to tell you I love you,” she whispered.

Finally. Now it can't poison me anymore.

“Ah,” he breathed, and his Cheshire grin was back in place. “Now, Dulcie. Now we can
finally
be together.” She smiled back at him and nodded.

Then he stabbed her again.

The small town of Fuller, West Virginia was rocked by a series of events that took place late one Tuesday evening.

A 9-1-1 call brought fire trucks to the Masters household, which was engulfed in flames by the time they got there. They were nowhere close to having it under control when a second phone call came in – the old train station was on fire, as well. A second fire truck was sent to deal with it. Luckily, that fire was much easier to take care of, and by morning, investigators were able to start crawling all over the smoke damaged interior.

It was late the next day before they got into the Masters house, and what they found wasn't pretty. Three bodies in the wreckage, all badly burned. Mr. Jebediah Masters was easily identified by dental records, but there was something strange. Investigators later determined Mr. Masters had died long before the fire. It was also readily obvious that the fire had not been an accident – the ground around the back part of the house was soaked in gasoline, and burned out metal gas cans were found in some of the rooms.

The heights of the other two bodies completely ruled out the possibility of Constantine Masters being either of them, but no one had seen the young man since the day of the fire. He was an immediate suspect, much to the shock of the town.

Well, to most of the town.

Jared Foster came forward and was adamant Constantine was responsible for the fires, and more so, that he'd done something to Dulcie Travers, the girl Con had reportedly been dating. Jared stated that Dulcie had come to him, had admitted to being afraid of Con, and that he'd personally witnessed Con acting strangely towards the girl.

The body of Dulcie's half-brother, Matthew Reid, was found in the train station. He'd been violently murdered. A lot of blood was found at the scene, but not all of it could be attributed to Matthew's injuries. Tests showed that blood on the banister and blood on Matt's fists had come from one Constantine Masters. A partial tooth belonging to Con was also found, indicating some sort of fight had taken place.

It was also quickly revealed that a large amount of the blood belonged to Dulcie Travers. There was a pool of it on the second story, then a bloody trail lead down the stairs and out the door and all the way to the railroad crossing. From there, it disappeared into the woods.

Many measures were taken to find out what had happened. Dulcie's mother admitted that her daughter had come to her on the day of the fires and had been acting strangely. That her son had said some strange things about the couple, as well. The state police were brought in, but to no avail. While it was determined that both the Masters fire and the train station fire were intentional, there were no other clues as to what had happened to the young couple.

Of course, there were whispers. That it was all a drug deal gone bad. That Con had gone crazy and killed Dulcie, then killed himself, leaving their bodies for the bears. Or that he'd buried her in the woods and then ran; both his and his father's bank accounts had been cleaned out. It seemed like the most likely scenario.

The town was shaken up for a long time, but as summer turned into fall without any answers, and fall turned into winter, it faded away. The Masters' home was torn down, and by the next summer, the train station had gained a reputation of being haunted. People were coming from all over the state to see if they could catch sight of a young woman's ghost. A restless spirit, doomed to wander the station after her lover had murdered her.

Right after the fires, Jared Foster quietly got divorced. He gained custody of his daughter and moved them into a small apartment. Later, he took custody of his newborn son. Then he saved his money, and by the following summer, he had enough to move. He was getting out of Fuller. What he should've done right after graduation. What Dulcie should have done.

And as he drove past that old train station, he let his eyes wander over it. Let his foot ease off the gas pedal. There was a window on the second floor, and for just a moment, he thought he saw someone standing there. Someone with dark blonde hair and light amber eyes. Someone who'd always existed on another plane from him.

I'm sorry I couldn't help you, Dulcie, but for what it's worth … thank you for helping me
.

“Stop it.”

“You stop.”

“I'm not doing anything.
Stop it!
”

“I can't help it that you're ticklish.”

“I swear to god, if you don't -”

“
There you are!
” a shrill voice shouted. A brunette in a flowing maxi dress was hurrying towards them, waving her hand. A man followed in her wake.

“
Uh oh, we're busted.
”

“Mr. Ford, this lovely woman is Shannon Cork,” the brunette, Carmen Enger, introduced them. “And this is her husband, Michael Cork.”

The woman who'd been introduced as Shannon gave a big smile, shaking hands with Mr. Ford. The man claiming the title of husband smiled as well, but didn't offer his hand. Instead, he wrapped his arm around his wife's waist.

“Such a pleasure! I'm so happy to meet you, Mrs. Cork. I have to tell you, I just adore -” the man started going on, but her husband held up his hand.

“I'm sorry, so sorry, but could you excuse us for just a second? I forgot something I needed to tell my wife,” he apologized, pulling at her as he tried to step backwards. She held her ground.

“But babe, Carmen just brought him over here, we can't -”

“Please,
Shannon.
”

She stared at him for a second, her lips pursed together tightly, then she sighed and turned back to their guests. Made apologies and assured them they'd be back. Then she followed him out of the room. He held onto her arm and dragged her around the building, hauling her outside and onto the beach.

“What was that?” she hissed, slapping at his hand when they were well out of sight of other people.

“When I tell you I want to talk to you, it means I want to talk to you
right now,
” he explained. She rolled her eyes.

“I'm not talking about
that.
”

“Then what?”

“I
hate it
when you call me Shannon.”

Constantine burst out laughing. That loud laugh that she loved so much.

“What do you want me to do? I can't exactly call you by your real name.”

Dulcie sighed and walked away from him, moving to where a palm tree had fallen at the edge of the beach. She sat down in the sand and leaned against its trunk.

“God, why did I ever agree to Shannon. It sounds so …
girly,
” she complained. He laughed again and sat down next to her.

“Hey, I like Shannon. We were in a hurry. Next time we have to evade the law, we'll plan it out better and you can pick whatever name you want.”

It was only about a twelve hour drive from Fuller to Miami. They'd had to stop in Roanoke, Virginia to get her some much needed stitches. He'd kept the stab close to the side of her torso, nowhere near any organs, but it had still bled like a bitch.

Con had bought their new identities in Miami. She'd been stoned out of her mind on pain pills at the time, and it wasn't till they were landing on the French island of Martinique that she even knew she had a new name.

Though really, living a whole new life in the Caribbean, with the man she loved, where no one knew the old Dulcie, where she could be
whoever the fuck she wanted to be
, was a pretty fair trade for having a name she didn't care for.

“So what's the emergency? Why'd you drag me out here? That guy was gonna buy something,” she said, gesturing with her head to the building they'd walked away from. Lights and conversation poured out into the night air. It was an art show, being hosted by one of the top galleries in Martinique. Dulcie was the featured artist.

“So? We don't need the money,” Con reminded her, then he scooted lower down in the sand so he was stretched out next to her.

“It's not about the money, Con. It's also nice knowing my art is hanging in someone's home,” she tried to explain. He snorted and pulled at her gauzy dress, dragging it up her body and revealing the white bikini she was wearing underneath.

“You mean
Shannon Cork's
art is hanging in someone's home,” he corrected her. She smacked him in the back of the head.

“Don't make me hurt you.”

“Oh, keep talking like that and we'll never make it back to the party.”

He planted kisses along the edge of her hip, working his way to the nasty scar on her side. It had been a year, but it was still sensitive. It stood out starkly against the dark tan she now permanently wore. The tan that went so well with the new brunette dye job she always sported. He kissed the scar, too.

“You had to make it so big,” she sighed, combing her fingers through his hair.

“Thank god Matt brought that knife – the puny little pocket knife I was gonna use wouldn't have left nearly so beautiful a mark.”

“Beautiful? Con, it's
huge
, and I didn't think it would ever stop bleeding.”

“That was the whole point – they had to believe you were dead, that I killed you,” he explained for the hundredth time.

“Last I saw online, they still consider the case open,” she told him. He snorted.

“Yeah, and last I saw, your ghost is roaming the halls of West Virginia's newest haunted attraction. Mission fucking accomplished, Dulcie.”

She laughed and moved so she was even with him on the ground.

“Pretty amazing. We are
pretty amazing,
” she sighed, smoothing her hand over the mark on her skin.

“We shine like stars, little girl,” he agreed, his fingers moving alongside hers.

“And you know, I actually like the scar,” she admitted.

“Good. It took that stab to get you to admit you love me,” he reminded her.

“It needed to be said in blood,” she whispered.

“Well, you certainly gave a lot that night.”

“That's how much I love you.”

He kissed her then. Even after a year. Even after fires and murders and dwelling in darkness,
loving
in darkness, kissing him still felt exactly the same as it had when she was seventeen years old. Like all her favorites things, rolled into one. Like every dream,
every nightmare
, she'd ever had.

Still feels like that fairy tale.

“I did actually want to ask you something,” he whispered, shifting around so he was on top of her.

“Hmmm, and what was that?” she asked, tilting her head back so he could kiss her exposed neck.

“I want to know,” he breathed, his tongue moving between her breasts. “When do we get to be bad again?”

She smiled big.

“Baby, I thought you'd
never ask
.”