[ Highest Rank #101 in Mystery/Thriller ]
Time has passed. Things have changed. Isabeth, Benny, and Faith aren't quite the same. They have blood on their hands, a code they honor, and secrets they keep locked away. The Psychopath Maker knows this an...
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The early morning events didn't screw up Faith's plans. She just had to alter them a smidge. Instead of working out at McNamara Club & Spa, with its state-of-the-art machines and six-packed enhanced trainers; she ran on the beach with Delilah, her two-year-old Doberman, breathing in the salty breeze.
The sand was still under her feet feeling like ants crawling up her newly shaved legs. She picked at the dry dirt rammed under her pink striped nails as her biceps, triceps and back muscles still stung from wheeling the shovel. She quickly remembered how deep six feet were. Waist deep in the earth she already regretted the act. It was work getting rid of the body. Alex didn't even help. Oh, yeah he held the light. It took her a whole two hours. Her performance time was surely down. She was out of practice. She had been out of the game. What was it? A year now? She lost count. Actually, she never counted. That was Isa and Alex's job. They were the ones concerned about her habit. She was just fine until that one time.
The blender clamored; pulverizing a sweet strawberry, mango, and banana mixture.
Faith unscrewed the cold glass carafe and poured the thick roseate smoothie into the highball crystal cup.
"Ahem." Giselle cleared her throat standing in the doorway of the kitchen folding her arms avoiding her skin to come in contact with anything or surface. Her smug eyes scolded at Delilah lying in her plush black-monogrammed bed by her gold and black Versace bowls already licked clean.
"Giselle, what the hell!" Faith jumped hitting the glass against the countertop.
"Don't swear when I'm in your presence," Giselle demanded, inching closer. "Keep your trashiness for your friends. I'm your mother."
Faith walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet. "Can you not walk in my house without knocking." She stuck the carafe under the water. The warm water ran over her hand soothing her rising tension.
"I own this house." Giselle quipped.
"My dad owns this house and if he didn't have a condition you wouldn't be here." Faith pulled her hand from under the water. She dried her hands on a plaid cloth that was folded on the countertop.
"But he did and I'm in charge of all his affairs. One of which is his reputation."
"You mean yours." Faith turned, picked up her glass.
Giselle picked at the diamonds on her tennis bracelet. "This family's reputation has been stained since you were expelled from Columbia."
Faith spat the straw out her mouth. "What the fuck! I'm pretty sure Chance is cheating on his wife with the church receptionist, Kelly flies in and out of whatever country that has snow to ski competitively." Faith air-quoted the last word. She still didn't believe he was good enough to be competitive. He'd been at it for three years and had yet to win a title. It's just a reason for him to forgo college. Faith walked past Giselle, Delilah followed.
