by Fiona Zedde
All this is nothing. She ripped a dictionary from the bookcase and flung it hard at the mirror. Kendra is nothing. The mirror shattered. She reached for something else, anything else, tearing, breaking, flinging, shattering, screaming like an animal in pain. Renee was everything.
At the end of the storm, she stood in the middle of Kendra’s bedroom, gasping. The welts on her hands burned. Drawers lurched drunkenly from the bureau; clothes lay scattered on the floor, spilling off their hangers and out of the closet. Mayson sat down on the bed, her trembling and bleeding hands held palms-up on her thighs.
Her breath gradually slowed.
Her eyes drifted shut.
When she opened them again, the room was gray, painted in soft shades of dawn. Her hands twitched at her sides.
A large shattered frame lay at the foot of the bed. Wrinkled beside it was an antique kimono, its reds and whites muted with age. She barely remembered dragging it from the wall and slamming it into the bedpost until the glass shattered and the heavy black silk, embroidered with red cherry blossoms, tumbled out.
“My stepmother was Japanese.” Kendra’s voice came to her from a past conversation. She had lifted a hand to Mayson’s heavy fall of hair. “You remind me of her.” Kendra had pressed Mayson down into the bed with the sticky weight of her body, her breasts on top of Mayson’s breasts, their legs tangled together. The fan had whirled lazily overhead. “When I was seventeen, she left my dad for another woman.” Kendra’s voice had broken.
The old conversation faded away under the steady hum of the air conditioner, the sudden wildness of her heartbeat as she clawed aside the remnants of sleep. She knew where Kendra was keeping Renee.
Chapter 37
“You comfy, Renee?”
Kendra watched her without an ounce of concern in her heavily lashed eyes. She sat with her knees drawn up beside her in the big armchair, a bowl of cherries in her lap. A small knife gleamed in her hand. She used it to split the cherries, separate them from their seeds, before putting the two halves into her mouth. Renee’s stomach growled.
It had been two days since she’d eaten. Two days since Kendra had lured her out of her condo and into her car. Her watch had slowly ticked the hours away.
Grunting, Renee twisted her wrists in the handcuffs chaining her to the bed.
Why had she even believed Kendra when she said Mayson was hurt and needed help? From that lie and her mad rush into Kendra’s car, Renee only remembered something hard smashing into her face. Then she woke up with her hands cuffed above her head to a massive bed that took up nearly all the space in a small pink-wallpapered room that looked like the set from a porn movie. Another set of cuffs secured her ankles together and to the bed. They rattled when she tried to move.
The room was dimly lit, but glittering gold curtains had been hung over the windows, blocking any natural light, injecting a false note of brightness. A scattering of softly glowing lamps helped to push the darkness to the corners of the room but could not disguise the shabbiness of the furniture, of the armchair where Kendra sat or the end table that held a small, gurgling fountain, a basket of fruit, and a pitcher of what looked like lemonade.
In the two days, Kendra had given her one glass of water and allowed her a single trip to the bathroom, dragging her by the handcuffed wrists down the hall to the tiny room with the mint-green toilet and a bamboo screen on the window.
Somewhere, an old air conditioner creaked but it might as well have been a heater for all the good it did. Sweat slid down Renee’s forehead, into her mouth. Her dress was already plastered to the small of her back.
“If I wasn’t ‘comfy,’” Renee spat the word, “would you do something to fix that?”
“It depends on how good you are.”
“Oh, please.” Renee sneered.
“Are you only good for Mayson, then?”
From the armchair, Kendra twirled a lock of her hair around a finger and watched Renee. She looked like she was dressed for a party. Or a date. The long hair was gathered at the top of her head with a gold clip, the curls loosened to cascade around her bare shoulders. A peacock-blue dress clung to her body, showing off the reason Mayson had initially lost her head. She slid from the chair and slunk close to Renee on bare feet.
Renee stiffened. It took all she had not to cower against the bed in fear. “Mayson is my friend. It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to realize that.” She blinked the sweat from her eyes, dipping her head into her arms to wipe her damp forehead.
But Kendra was unfazed by Renee’s anger. She only smiled and circled the bed, the handle of a small knife cradled in her palm. “You talk a lot of shit for someone tied up and at my mercy.”
Renee locked her arms and forced herself not to look away. Kendra looked crazy enough to do anything. That was obvious from the way she stood waving the knife around like an extra from Crocodile Dundee.
“Why don’t you just let me go and we can deal with this like rational adults?”
“Rational. Are you saying that I’m being irrational?”
Despite the teasing note in Kendra’s voice, her question was deadly serious. Her eyes sat hard on Renee’s face.
Renee swallowed the sudden surge of fear. “Uh…no. I was just thinking that if the two of you had the chance to sit down and talk, then maybe you’ll be able to come to an arrangement. None of this—” She wriggled her chained wrists to encompass the tacky little room, Kendra’s knife.
“You do think that I’m crazy.” Kendra sat at the foot of the bed. The knife, wet with cherry juice, sat beside her on the bed, staining the pale blue sheets. “It’s okay.” She shrugged. “I know she’s not going to want me anyway, not after this.” The hair rearranged itself around her face as she shook her head. “This whole thing isn’t really about getting Mayson back. It’s about getting her to admit that she tricked me into falling for her.” Kendra’s voice grew soft. “I don’t want that selfish bitch back. I want her to see how it feels to love and lose that love.”
The breath caught in Renee’s throat.
“Ah, now I have your attention.” Kendra flashed her sharp white teeth in what could have passed for a smile.
After scaring the crap out of her, Kendra was satisfied with her day’s work. She retreated to the armchair. Smiling, she dropped her knife on the table and poured herself some lemonade. She drank deeply from the glass. Renee licked her lips, suddenly aware again of the heat, the uncomfortable weight of the sheets under her already damp thighs. The drip of sweat under her breasts. The dryness of her mouth.
“Feel more comfortable yet?” Kendra asked again, a definite smirk on her red lips. She drank from the lemonade again.
Renee didn’t waste her breath on an answer. Kendra chuckled and opened a book, apparently content to wait. For what, Renee had no idea. It was obvious, though, that she did not have that same luxury of time.
She shifted in the handcuffs, wincing when they bit into her skin with each movement. Kendra didn’t mean for her to get out of this. The idea frightened her more than she wanted to acknowledge. She raised her chin higher and leaned back against the headboard to take some of the strain off her wrists.
“You’re very pretty,” Kendra said. Glass clinked against glass. The sound of her pouring more lemonade from the pitcher. “It’s no wonder Mayson can’t get enough of you.” Like she got enough of me, was the unspoken rest of that sentence. Renee rolled her eyes, knowing the movement was hidden behind her upraised arms.
“Still, maybe Mayson and I can still work things out.” There was a question in Kendra’s voice.
“Anything’s possible,” Renee said finally since the woman seemed to be waiting for some type of reaction from her. Kendra was stupid but she was also completely out of her mind. No need to antagonize her more than she could get away with.
“Yes.” Kendra looked at her, unblinking. “Anything is possible.”
Renee squirmed and finally dropped her gaze. After a long and uncomfortable moment, sh
e still felt Kendra’s eyes on her. The longer the woman stared, the more claustrophobic the room seemed. Desperation began to peak in her chest.
She jerked at the cuffs. Her fear-wet palms felt too hot. Her throat was dry and parched.
“You might as well relax, sweetie. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I will not relax as long as you’re in this damn room, you psycho bitch.” So much for not antagonizing Kendra. “Shit.” The word scraped across her vocal cords like sandpaper.
She forced herself to breathe evenly. This was getting her nowhere.
“It’s all so hopeless, isn’t it?” Kendra tucked her feet under her in the chair. With a coy smile, she flung her hair back off her shoulders. “Just makes you want to cry.”
“Not quite,” Renee muttered.
“What do you mean, not quite?”
“Does it look like I’m about to lie down and let you do whatever you want to me? I’ve already had it done and I’m sure he’s much better at it than you.”
“You mean, she. Mayson.”
“What do I have to tell you to make you get it that May and I are just friends? Period.”
“Nothing. Because I know better.”
“Oh my God, did Mayson’s sex really scramble your brains that much?” Renee sighed, suddenly tired. “Mayson’s amazing,” she said quietly. “Absolutely the best friend that a girl could want. But we’ve never been lovers. Never.”
“Let’s say it’s all true, this shit you’re feeding me. You and Mayson are the absolute best of friends, then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where does that leave me?” Kendra crept closer, the knife abandoned on the small table. She perched on the edge of the bed and leaned toward Renee. “Are you saying she just doesn’t want me?”
Her voice shrank until it was almost a squeak, mouselike and lost. She held the half-finished glass of lemonade in her hand, her wrist curled in, the glass pressed to her chest like a child watching a disappointing cartoon.
Hell, yes. Who’d want your crazy ass, especially after all this foolishness? “Ah…I don’t—” A cough interrupted her already halting flow of words. She cleared her throat. Or at least tried to. Instead another cough doubled her over and she turned her head so she wouldn’t cough in Kendra’s face.
Kendra held the cup of lemonade up to Renee’s mouth and she bent her head to drink, grateful. It tasted only faintly of lemons and was sweeter than she liked but it was wet and eased her dry throat.
“I guess you were thirsty, huh?” she said, holding up the empty glass. “You want some more?”
Renee was about to nod, then thought better of it. She was still thirsty but the thought of another trip to the bathroom with Kendra watching while she squatted over the toilet seat made her head shake in refusal.
“I’m fine. That was perfect, thank you.”
“Ah, you’re so polite.”
Kendra pushed away from the bed anyway to refill the tall glass. She moved back into place beside Renee, curling her legs under her and leaning back against the bedpost like they were best girlfriends. Renee turned her face into her arm to wipe away the sweat.
Kendra watched her.
“This is someplace I never thought I’d be, you know.” The woman’s words came softly, reluctantly. She rested her head against the bedpost, her eyes turning inward. “When I saw Mayson that evening, I couldn’t believe my eyes. She looked just like Toshi. It seemed so strange, yet so perfect. Even though I knew it wasn’t really her, I had to talk to her. Then I had to touch her. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like I was getting a chance to live all the fantasies I’d had about my stepmother.”
Renee squeezed her eyes shut. This was something she did not want to hear.
But with her eyes closed, the story still, unfortunately, continued.
“She touched me so perfectly, like she knew me.”
At the unexpected silence, she opened her eyes to see Kendra watching her, expecting her to know exactly what she was talking about. “It was like Mayson had read the fantasies in my head,” Kendra continued. She looked down into the lemonade glass, blinking into its depths at something only she could see. “After that I couldn’t bear to let her go.”
Kendra lifted her head. “I told Mayson every important thing about me. I even told her about this house that my stepmother left to me. I told her everything. But I guess she wasn’t listening.” Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.
Renee couldn’t hide her incredulous stare at Kendra’s confession. “Don’t you think this is all a little …” She tried to think of a relatively neutral word. “Extreme?”
Kendra’s eyes flashed to her. They burned cold, then hot. “But isn’t love irrational?”
Kendra was mocking her! Renee drew back. Or at least as much as she could with the handcuffs tying her to the bed.
“I know this is pathetic,” Kendra said. “I know.” She laughed bitterly. “But there’s nothing to be done about it now. It’s over.”
Cold dropped into the pit of Renee’s stomach. “What do you mean it’s over?”
Kendra smiled.
“Tell me. What do you mean?” Hysteria climbed into Renee’s voice.
But Kendra still didn’t answer. Instead she reached into her pocket, taking out a small silver pillbox. The tiny lid popped open revealing a round white tablet.
The headboard started to shake. Then Renee realized she was the one shaking. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Her eyes filled with tears and overflowed. There were so many things she wanted to do. So many…Mayson!
“I hope you didn’t think this was going to end any other way.” Kendra put the pill in her mouth and swallowed it with the last of the lemonade.
“When I first dreamed up this whole stupid thing, I thought she would find us in a couple of hours. But she really doesn’t know me and was never interested in getting to know me.” Kendra put the empty glass on the floor. “But someone will find us, eventually.” Her eyes gleamed with sudden malice. “And she’ll die inside.”
Renee shook her head. “No. Whatever it is you’re thinking about, don’t.”
“It’s too late, honey. I think it’s been too late for a long time.” She swallowed hard and leaned back against the bedpost. A fine mist of sweat broke out on her forehead. For the first time she seemed uncomfortable in the room’s heat. Kendra fumbled to undo the first few buttons of her dress and swallowed again.
Renee blinked her tears away in irritation. This would not be the end. “Kendra, don’t be stupid.”
But the other woman was done listening.
“Kendra!”
Renee yanked at her cuffs, pulling against them to get to the other woman, who lay barely two feet away from her but might as well have been a continent away for all the effect that she had.
“Kendra!” she shouted again.
And this time Kendra rolled her head to look at Renee with a faint smile. She grimaced as a shudder shook her wilting frame. Her eyes shot open as if in surprise at what was happening to her body. She jerked against the headboard, shaking with convulsions, arms flailing. Her head thudded against the metal headboard. Foam bubbled up in her mouth and dribbled down her chin.
“Oh my God!” Renee tugged at the cuffs. But they held fast, scraping her skin the more she pulled. Kendra’s body tumbled toward her, the wet and foamy mouth falling against her face. Renee screamed. She scrambled to get away but was trapped against the bed, wrists and ankles pulling furiously, uselessly at their manacles. The smell of feces, Kendra’s, exploded against her face. “Mayson!” Oh God. “Mayson!”
She couldn’t stop screaming.
A sound like a gunshot jolted her into silence. Her head whipped up and around. The sound came from the door. It came again just as suddenly and the door buckled. A battering ram.
A gun appeared at the open door. Two men in dark clothes burst in gripping their pistols, moving the weapons from side to side as they advanced ins
ide the room. Renee sat frozen to the bed, Kendra’s wet face and cooling body pressed against hers. She shuddered with revulsion.
One of the figures approached the bed while the other—a woman, she realized—looked quickly around the small room. Flashes of gold on their hips said they were police. She sagged in relief. Squeezed her eyes tight. Now it was over.
With his finger still on the trigger of the pistol, the officer bent to check Kendra’s neck for a pulse.
“Clear!” he called out and Renee looked up in surprise. Grant shoved the gun into its holster and pulled out a small key, quickly unlocking Renee’s wrists and ankles. He gingerly leaned Kendra’s body away from her and onto the bed.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No,” Renee croaked past her dry throat, still looking up at him, unable to believe her eyes.
The thud of footsteps. “Renee!”
At the sight of Mayson’s face, her composure disintegrated.
“Mayson!” She gripped her friend tightly, sobbing in her arms, chest heaving, her body wracked with tremors. “God! I thought she was going to kill me.”
“I called for an ambulance and the coroner,” the other officer said over their heads.
She shuddered at the unnecessary reminder of Kendra’s body next to hers. The stink of her loosened bowels, the rictus of surprised fear on her face. Things she would never forget.
“I’m fine, really. Just a little thirsty and hot from being locked up in here.” Her voice sounded awful. She coughed.
“I think it’s best to check you out anyway. You’ve been in here for almost two days. Better safe than sorry.”
“Okay.” She rested her head against Mayson’s chest and turned to look at Grant. “How did you find me?”
He opened his mouth but nothing came out. It was his turn to adjust phlegm in his throat.
“He was the one who told me you were missing,” Mayson said.
