Tracy
In the small kitchen of Lacy’s apartment, I grab a glass and pour some water, then make my way over to the couch while I wait for her to change. I told her to just be herself and wear what feels comfortable, but after several minutes, my knee begins to bounce, and I start to wonder what’s taking her so long. Something seems off. I stand and move toward her room, but my step falters, and I freeze.
Lacy is being directed to the living room by Dr. Ackerman. His hand is on her mouth and there’s a gun pushing into her side. When he shoves her toward me, she loses her balance and falls on the glass coffee table. It shatters, leaving her lying on the floor in a pile of glass.
My glass of water falls from my hand as I rush toward her and bend down. “I’m so sorry, Lacy. Can you move?” Her eyes are full of fear, but she nods. “Okay. Let’s get you to the couch.” I hold her upper arms and help her take a step back. Her hands and legs are cut up from the glass and her wince has me cringing when she lowers herself to the couch.
“Oh…yes…that’s good. Have a seat, Tracy,” he says, waving the gun in my direction, and I lower myself next to Lacy.
The person before me is not the person I dated for several months. Dr. Ackerman…Logan, had been a perfect gentleman—at first. He’d taken me out to dinner, opened doors for me, and had even taken me shopping for clothing. Although, most of the outfits he’d selected were a little too racy for my tastes. But he’d insist on buying them and I’d give in, but I’d only wear them when I knew we were going somewhere where there was the least chance of me running into someone I knew.
It wasn’t until one night when we’d had a little too much to drink that things started to change. We were trying something new, being adventurous, and he’d tied me to the bed. When the doorbell rang, he mentioned his secretary was coming over to bring him some papers, yet to my surprise she’d followed him back to our room.
My stomach turns at the thought of how inebriated I was and what I had done.
I hadn’t remembered everything that had happened, but he made sure to tell me every disgusting detail the next day. After that night, he was constantly pressuring me to have her involved, but I continually said no. When I caught them together—I ended it.
Logan starts to pace, his eyes wide and hair a mess from running his hands through it. “Lacy, you have your sister to thank for this meeting. My original plan was to see you a few times, fuck with your mind, then prescribe you something that would make you forget the conversation you overheard between Mack and me. But then I thought, what if my efforts are all for naught? Then I would have wasted a bunch of time when I could just figure out a way to take you both out at once.” He grabs a kitchen chair, drags it closer to us, then straddles it and rests his arms against the back. “You probably have some questions about why you’re here. The good news is I have all the fucking answers.”
He clears his throat, then stands, and starts to pace again. “It all started in Colorado. My arrangement with your father was simple. I was the supplier, and he was the dealer. But when he got greedy and started doing deals on the side, I considered our arrangement null and void and ratted him out to the authorities. We all know how that ended. The fucking police had no idea I was involved.”
I turn to Lacy, my mouth agape and eyes wide. Her expression mirrors mine.
He throws his arms up dramatically. “Pay attention. It gets better. When Tracy took a job at Magnolia Woods, I was elated. It gave me an idea for the perfect cover. Moving my practice to Savannah and taking a resident psychiatrist position at the same facility would be an ideal way to keep an eye on the three of you. Then, when we began fucking…” His eyes move to me, and I close mine as my shoulders drop, “it was the cherry on fucking top.”
Lacy gasps, and covers her mouth. Her hand still drips red from the glass imbedded in her skin.
“By the look on your sister’s face, Tracy, I would say she didn’t know about us. Go on, tell her?” With each move of his hand as he speaks, he swings the gun around the room.
I lower my gaze to the floor as tears well in my eyes. “Lacy, I’m so sorry. I had no idea—about any of this.”
“Come on, you can do fucking better than that. Tell her how great we are together. How you can’t get what I give you from anyone else. How rough you like it. How nothing gets you wetter than being tied to a bed while I mark the silky white skin of yours with my hand before fucking you from behind.”
Sobs rip from my throat as I shake my head. “STOP! PLEASE JUST STOP!” I scream, tears rolling down my cheeks. My heart constricts at the thought of what I’ve done to my sister. I can’t breathe.
“Oh, no. We haven’t had the chance to tell Lacy the best part.”
“Please—don’t!” I cry out. “I’m begging you,” I say, gasping for breath, willing my lungs to work, but my plea falls on deaf ears.
“The part where you used a fucking blow job in exchange for me to have your mother transferred to Magnolia Woods. Unfortunately, what happened to her once she was there was truly accidental.”
I bend over as sobs continue to suck the very breath from my lungs.
Lacy’s hand hasn’t moved from her mouth, but her face is now wet from the stream of tears flowing down her cheeks.
He rushes over, and we both scream. My scalp is on fire as he grabs a handful of hair and leans in, his face only inches from mine. His breath smells of whiskey as he spits out, “Had this been under any other circumstances, I think we could have worked. You need someone like me—someone to push your boundaries and take control. Unfortunately, after tonight, that need will no longer be a necessity.” When he pulls my head back farther, he presses the gun to my temple and his hand begins to shake as though he’s experiencing some internal debate.
The pounding in my ears drowns out any sound, and I close my eyes, waiting for the impact. He gives my hair one last yank, then releases, and I bounce off the cushions, into my sister.
He gets up and moves toward the door where he bends to grab a briefcase, then drops it on the table and flips the latches. “As easy as it would be to end this with just two bullets, that’s too quick and very messy. I would rather savor the moment.” He plucks a syringe out of the case, holds it up, and flicks it a couple times, then glances in our direction. “Who wants to go first?”