[ 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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Faith reemerged from the bathroom dabbing her face with an ivory washcloth, "You know just how to get rid of them. I hate the morning after cuddling. We had sex; now get your shit and go. I don't need a hug; screw and leave." Faith dropped the washcloth on the bed
Isabeth sat on the chaise with her arms stretched out behind her, holding her body up. She watched Faith delicately swab the water off her freshly clean body. Isabeth knew the time was quickly ticking and soon Alex would storm up the stairs and blow up on Faith's nonchalant attitude.
"What possessed you to bring a stranger to your house? He has a python tattoo wrapping around his forearm." Isa looked at the card sitting in her lap.
"I have a scorpion on my shoulder blade" Faith turned around showing her bare ass and the black insect on her back, its tail raised up ready to strike, pump you with a dose of poison.
Faith pulled out a fresh pair of black lace undergarments. She stepped her peach polished pedicured feet into her underwear and pulled them along her baby-bottom soothe legs and over her toned bum thanks to limitless squats trying to keep up with Isabeth's ample apple bottom. They didn't mind getting dressed in front of each other, they had the same thing, breast, and vagina, and in their heads no matter who their parents were or the blood that coursed through their veins, they were sisters.
Isa watched Delilah circle the room picking up every scent Egan left behind. "He has Rasputin eyes, shifty and like an Artic wolf."
"Don't start that shit again, Isa, and I wasn't thinking about his eyes." Faith hooked the clasp of the black lace bra.
"And I'm supposed to believe he's a German Chocolatier." Isabeth quipped.
"How do you know that?" Faith dragged a silver brush through her hair pulling it over her shoulder.
Isabeth held up the card, "Reading is fundamental."
Faith squirted two puffs of Flower Bomb on each side of her neck. "I love chocolate, expensive of course, not that cheap shit in the candy aisle at Jenkins'." Faith pulled all the strands tightly together and clasped a metallic barrette around her hair. "Do you think he'll give me some?" She laughed. "What am I saying? After last night, hell yeah!"
Isabeth threw the pillows off the bed and onto the chaise, "You know you're going to end up killing him."
"Probably, but I won't. I'll fight it like I've been doing." Faith bobbed her head.
"No, you can't fight this one." Isabeth pulled the top sheet off the bed letting it drop to the floor. "He's a dog that you'll have to put down."
Faith pulled the mascara brush across her eyelash, "I promise. I won't." She looked at Isabeth through the mirror.
"What if you didn't have to promise? What if I gave you a pass?"
Faith dipped the brush back in the bottle and turned around. Isabeth looked back at her calm and relaxed, she was breathing normal, she looked like the same conscientious, cross wearing, bible reading every other night girl she knew, her eyes didn't glimmer like before but they still held their power burrowing down into your soul, reading your mind, depicting your thoughts.
Faith opened her mouth, "Where are you going with this?"
"I'm saying I'll grant you one freebie, punish free kill if you go to Fiona's funeral." Isabeth twirled the fitted sheet into a ball and dropped it.
Faith's mouth started to water as if a bowl of sizzling, creamy, asiago-cheddar mac and cheese was sat down in front of her. "As in I kill him and we're good; no guilt trips, hair nets, or tutoring hours with some germ-infested, snot-nose brat."
"As in I'll help you dig the hole myself," Isabeth affirmed
"Then all I have to say is dress or pants."
"Pants."
Faith disappeared into the closet. Isabeth lay down on the firm undressed mattress. Faith reemerged from the closet with long black pants and a sheer black shirt over her arm and with black ankle boots in the other hand. She dropped it all on the bed.
"Can I ask you a question?" Isabeth blurted pulling the zipper down on the boots trying to speed along the process.
"Shoot." Faith pulled up the black pants that hugged her thighs and flared out down her legs but not too much like a 70's pimp.
Isabeth popped out the closet with a black Chanel clutch in hand, "Does the pact pertain to secrets made before its creation?"
"No." Faith buttoned up the sleek, sheer blouse revealing her black lace bra.
Isabeth dropped the purse and her mouth. "Friendship contract?"
"What's the secret, Isa?" Faith draped a single gold chain around her neck.
Isabeth squeezed her pulp bottom lip hesitating. "Clayton...and I have history."
"The FBI agent, Clayton Anderson." A wicked smile erupted on Faith's face. "Elaborate."
"You remember when we went to that fashion show to support Brittany?" Isabeth handed Faith her clutch.
"The one you missed." Faith slipped her driver's license, cell phone, keys, and lipgloss in the little black purse.
"Well, I missed it because I was at the Akademie Der Künste getting my neck nibbled on in a corner." Isabeth fell back on the pillow-top mattress using her hands to cover the shame on her face.
Faith screeched. "You and Agent Sexy!" She brimmed from ear to ear.
Isabeth bashfully wiped her face, "Yes."
"So...what's the problem?" Faith sat the purse's chain strap on her shoulder.
Isabeth stood in the mirror pulling the brush through her hair, "Should I..." She paused. "...tell Alex?"
"Ya'll didn't have that talk about Exes?"
"No." Isabeth turned away from the mirror. "I know he had a girlfriend named Aubrey before his Dad sent him away."
"If you love him, tell him." Faith instructed wishing she would've told Gavin about Fulton raping her instead of getting high, having sex with Fiona's boyfriend to push everybody away. "But it is Alex he might not take it... well."
"I know." Isabeth covered her face in confusion.
Faith took Isabeth's hand, held it tight. "Are you ready to go to the funeral of the friend we haven't seen in a year...that got killed on a night we have no recollection of and might land us in orange jumpsuits?" She smiled sarcastically.
"You have an elegant way of putting things Faith but yes." Isabeth mustered up a smile.
Is Isabeth right? Will Faith end up killing Egan?
What do you think, should Isabeth tell Alex about Clayton?
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