Chapter 21: The Wager
At four o'clock the sun had swung low enough to pour through Vera's bedroom windows in amber sheets. Marnie stood at the full-length mirror in Vera's silk blouse and Vera's dark trousers, and she turned the black wig in her hands. She had found it in the back of Vera's closet, in a box labeled with a wedding date that wasn't hers. She settled it over her auburn curls, tucked the mesh cap down, and shook the blunt-cut hair to her shoulders.
The mirror gave back a stranger. Vera's sharp cheekbones. Vera's severe black line of hair. Marnie had applied the same red lipstick Vera wore at the charity ball, and the effect made her stomach tighten.
"Good God," Joaquin said from the doorway.
She turned. He had Hugh's clothes on. Hugh's navy sweater stretched across Joaquin's leaner frame, and Hugh's dark denim sat loose at his hips. He had slicked his hair back with water. The Scar on his chest was hidden under the sweater, and he looked almost respectable.
"Does it work?" she asked.
"From across a street? Perfect. Up close they'd catch the eyes." He came and stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. In the mirror the two of them looked like someone else's memory. "You've got her walk though. That shoulder thing she does."
"Her posture is terrible. It's the heels."
"Wear them anyway."
She did. Vera's black pumps were a half size too big, and Marnie had to stuff the toes with tissue. She walked around the bedroom twice, letting the heels click on the floor, dropping her chin the way Vera did when she looked down on something.
Joaquin watched. "There she is."
They left through the front door. Joaquin had Hugh's keys in his pocket, Hugh's wallet, Hugh's phone, all of it dead beside the real keys in his own jeans. Marnie stopped at the driveway and looked at Hugh's Escalade, dark and gleaming in the afternoon sun.
"You drive," she said. "He's better behind the wheel."
Joaquin got in and adjusted the seat forward. The mirrors. The climate control. He pulled out of the driveway slow, windows down, and Marnie put her elbow on the sill the way she'd seen Vera do a hundred times.
They passed Mrs. Delgado's house first. The rose garden stood empty, but the front curtain twitched as they went by, and Marnie caught the glint of a watering can in the side yard. The old woman had been dead six hours now, staged as a fall off her porch. The curtain twitched again, and Marnie lifted two fingers off the wheel in a wave that was all Vera's lazy arrogance.
At Carol Hendricks' house a minivan was backed into the driveway. Carol herself stood at the trunk with a bag of groceries, and when the Escalade rolled past she froze. The groceries sagged in her arms. Marnie looked through her like she was furniture. The minivan shrank in the mirror.
"Carol's going to be on the phone in ten seconds," Marnie said.
"We'll be out of the neighborhood in five."
They turned onto the main road, past the park and the row of white fences. The windows stayed down, and the wind pulled Vera's black hair back from Marnie's face, and Joaquin put a hand on her thigh while he drove. They looked like two people escaping something, which was exactly the point.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, and the screen showed a message from Carol Hendricks.
Marnie, I just saw Hugh driving out of the neighborhood with that Marsh woman. Are you alright? Call me please.
Marnie held the phone up so Joaquin could see. He read it, and a low laugh rolled out of him, open and genuine.
"Look at that," he said. "It works."
"Read it out loud."
He did, and they laughed together in the cabin of Hugh's car, and the road bent toward the treeline and swallowed them.
They parked a mile and a half off the paved road, under a dead oak where the brush grew thick. Joaquin killed the engine and stuffed Hugh's keys in his pocket. They walked the rest, gravel crunching under Vera's heels and Hugh's boots, the wig hot against Marnie's scalp. She took it off before they reached the treeline and ran her fingers through her own curls.
The shed sat in the shadow of the pines, boards over its single window. The padlock hung open to the side, and Marnie pocketed it as Joaquin pulled the door.
Inside the air was thick and still. Two figures huddled against the far wall, tied to a beam at the wrists and ankles, mouths taped. Hugh's eyes found her first, and what they did then she couldn't have named. Pleading. Confusion. The dawning horror of seeing his own reflection in Joaquin's face.
Marnie tore the tape off Hugh's mouth. He gasped.
"Marnie. Marnie, please. Whatever this is, whatever you think I did, I'm sorry. I know I did things I shouldn't have, I know I hurt you, I'm sorry, I'll do anything. Just let me go. I'll leave, I'll sign whatever you want, the company, everything. Please. Please don't do this."
She looked at him while he talked. Tears down his face. The head wound from the coffee table crusted dark at his temple. He had never looked so much like someone's husband.
"Shh," she said, quiet. "I know you're sorry."
The hope in his eyes nearly broke her laugh into the open. She turned to Vera and tore her tape off.
Vera spat.
"You fucking bitch. You think this is going to work? There are people who know exactly where I am. That stupid cow Carol will have the police at your door by nightfall and you'll be in a cell with your legs broken." She twisted against the ropes, face purple. "Let me go and I might not mention what happened to your worthless husband. Otherwise I'll make sure you rot."
Marnie looked at Joaquin. Joaquin looked back. Then he walked over to Vera, knelt, and took her right hand. He had to work the two fingers that were already broken, and Vera screamed when he touched them. He did it anyway.
He snapped two more, one after the other, like breaking breadsticks. The sound was wet and dull and Vera jerked against the beam and then went very still, breathing through her teeth, eyes wild.
"I had a plan for you," Joaquin said, close to her ear. "But now I think I'll let her decide."
He stood and left her shaking. Marnie watched him, and something in her chest went loose and molten. She crossed the shed and pulled him close by the back of the neck, brought her mouth to his.
"Let's play a game."
His grin flickered in the low light. "I'm listening."
"I know you like to break your victims before you watch the life leave their eyes."
"I do."
She glanced at Hugh, then at Vera. Took his hand and stepped back, drawing him into the center of the floor between the two shackled figures.
"Then let's see who breaks their spouses first." She brushed her thumb over his knuckles. "Winner gets to make the first cut."
Joaquin looked at Hugh. Then at Vera. He turned his head and met Marnie's eyes in the dim light, and his smile was the thing she had seen in the mirror of Vera's bedroom, only closer. The thing that recognized itself.
"Sounds like fun," he said. "Which one's yours?"
Joaquin looked at Hugh. Then at Vera. He turned his head and met Marnie's eyes in the dim light, and his smile was the thing she had seen in the mirror of Vera's bedroom, only closer. The thing that recognized itself.
"Sounds like fun," he said. "Which one's yours?"
Before Marnie could answer, Vera spat on the floor again. "We are toys. You can't make us fuck."
Joaquin's head tilted. "Oh, but we can."
"Your life quite literally depends on it," Marnie said, soft, almost kind. She stepped closer to Hugh and crouched in front of him. "Hugh. I hear you're quite the homophobe. Would you rather me, the pathetic husband of your affair partner, make you blow your load over and over in front of your wife?"
Hugh's face went from gray to red. "Get the fuck away from me, faggot."
Joaquin laughed, a bright clear sound. Vera yanked at her ropes. "Untie me. I'll show you how to really fuck your husband. Let me at him and you'll see what a real woman can do."
Marnie and Joaquin looked at each other. Joaquin shrugged. Marnie pulled the folding knife from her pocket and walked over to Vera.
"Untie them," Joaquin said.
It took minutes to saw through the ropes on all four ankles and wrists. Hugh rubbed his wrists and stayed on the floor, trying to understand what was happening. Vera was already on her feet, working the blood back into her hands, her fingers bent wrong where Joaquin had broken them. The two of them stood apart like animals waiting for a signal.
Vera advanced on Hugh, and her eyes had that hot triumphant cast Marnie remembered from the dinner table. The one where she looked at Hugh and saw a thing she owned. But her hands shook.
"Go on," Marnie said. She sat on the upended crate against the wall and crossed her legs. "Show us what real sex looks like. Oh, and try anything stupid. On second thought, please try something. I love it when my victims make me work for it. Entertain me."
Vera swallowed. Her broken fingers lifted, and she started unbuttoning her own blouse, then stopped. She turned to Hugh and pulled at his sweater instead.
"Come here," she said.
Hugh stood there with his hands at his sides. Vera yanked the sweater over his head and he let her. She undid his belt and his trousers and pushed them to his ankles. His cock hung soft between his thighs.
"Oh dear," Joaquin said from his corner. He'd found a rusted saw blade and was spinning it on the dirt floor. "She can't even get him up. This was supposed to be worth watching."
Vera's face contorted. She dropped to her knees and took Hugh's soft cock into her mouth. She worked him with her good hand, her tongue flat and wet, and Hugh stood rigid, staring at the opposite wall as if he could climb out through the boards with his eyes.
The shed filled with the sounds of it. Her mouth, wet and smacking. The creak of Hugh's knees.
"Don't look at the wall," Marnie said quietly. "Look at me."
Hugh's eyes slid to her and held. A sob broke out of him. His cock stirred, thickened, and Vera made a triumphant sound around it and took him deeper.
"Look at that," Joaquin said. He moved closer, standing behind Vera so he could see. "She does know her way around a mouthful. Maybe she's not useless after all."
Vera pulled off. "I'm not doing this for your entertainment, you piece of shit."
"Then do it for your survival." Joaquin crouched and ran the flat of the saw blade along her cheekbone. "Unless you want me to see how deep I have to cut to make you scream pretty."
Vera went still. Then she turned back to Hugh and took him into her throat, all the way, until her nose touched his stomach. Hugh's hands came up, fists clenched, and landed on her hair.
"Get off me," he said, but his hips pushed forward anyway.
She gagged and worked him faster, and Marnie watched the surrender take him. The wall didn't matter anymore. The horror didn't matter. He grabbed Vera's head with both hands and fucked her mouth, and Vera let him, and the two of them became a single ugly rhythm. Marnie and Joaquin watched with their arms crossed.
Hugh came with a desperate animal grunt, spilling down Vera's throat. She gagged, swallowed, and pulled off, dragging the back of her hand across her mouth. Her lipstick had smeared in a red ring around her lips.
"He's done," Vera said flatly. "Satisfied?"
"You haven't even started," Joaquin said. "Flip her over, big man."
Something moved in Hugh's face. A flicker of the man who had backed Marnie into a corner and put his hand around her throat. He grabbed Vera by the shoulders, turned her around, and shoved her face-first onto the dirt floor.
"Get up," he said, and his voice had changed. "Get up on your hands and knees for me."
Vera's mouth fell open. "What did you just say to me?"
Hugh shoved her shoulder down and kicked her knees apart. Vera's teeth clicked together. He knelt behind her, grabbed her hip with one hand, and hooked his other hand around her jaw from behind.
"Who's the one that's supposed to be in control here?" he said into her ear.
Her back arched before she could stop it. Marnie leaned forward. Hugh spread her open and drove into her in one long stroke, and Vera cried out, a sound that split down the middle into something neither of them had heard from her before. Hugh fucked her like a man who had spent years taking orders, and now the ledger had turned. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back and drove into her harder, and Vera's hands clawed the dirt floor.
"That's right," Joaquin said softly. "There he is. She's loving this."
Marnie watched Hugh's face. The tears had dried. His jaw was set. He fucked Vera with a rage that had been waiting under the surface for years, and Vera's hips rose to meet him, her moans turning ragged. Hugh finished with a broken grunt, pulled out, and let Vera collapse onto the dirt.
He stood there, swaying, his cock slick and soft. He looked at Marnie.
That look asked something she did not intend to answer.
Vera pushed herself up on her elbows. She was laughing, a ruined wet sound. "Now you see." She spat blood and dirt. "I told you. I was always going to show you how it's done."
Marnie stood and walked over. She crouched beside Vera and looked at the mess of her: smeared lipstick, dust caked on her bare back, her broken fingers curled. Marnie's own face in the dim light looked patient and amused.
"You did good," Marnie said. "You really did."
Vera's head came up, hope flickering in her eyes.
Marnie took the needle from her locket and pricked the soft skin under Vera's jaw. Vera's eyes went wide, and the sound she made was barely a whimper.
“Now about that game”