down. The pain nearly took her breath away. Every movement sent a sharp knife into her shoulder. She wiped the sweat from her brow. She looked down at Paul. “Where is Julia?”
Paul wouldn’t look at her. He was only interested in Claire. “Please,” he begged her. “Call an ambulance.”
Claire shook her head.
Lydia said, “Tell us where Julia is and we’ll call an ambulance.”
Paul squinted up at Claire. The rain was pelting his face. Spraying his face. Streaming into his face.
“Call an ambulance,” Paul repeated. “Please.”
Please. How many times had Lydia begged him in the garage? How many times had he laughed at her?
Paul said, “Claire …”
“Where is she?” Lydia repeated. “You said she was close. Is she in Watkinsville? Is she in Athens?”
He said, “Claire, please. You have to help me. This is serious.”
Claire held the gun limply at her side. She was looking back at the house, staring into the fire. Her lips were in a tight line. Her eyes were still wild. She was going to crack. Lydia just couldn’t tell which way.
She looked back down at Paul. “Tell me.” She tried to keep the begging tone out of her voice. “You said you know where she is. You said you visited her.”
… rotten bones with long strands of dirty blonde hair and those stupid bracelets …
“Claire?” Paul was losing too much blood. His skin had turned a waxy white. “Claire, please—just look at me.”
Lydia didn’t have time for this. She jammed her fingers into his shattered knee.
Paul’s screams pierced the air. She didn’t let up. She kept pressing until her fingernails had scraped raw bone.
She said, “Tell us where Julia is.”
He hissed air between his teeth.
“Tell us where she is!”
Paul’s eyes rolled back in his head. His body started to convulse. Lydia took away her hand.
He gasped for air. Bile and pink blood dribbled out of his mouth. He pressed the back of his head into the ground. His chest was heaving for air. He made a choking sound. He was crying.
No, he wasn’t crying.
He was laughing.
“You don’t have it in you.” Paul’s bloody white teeth showed between wet lips. “Worthless fat bitch.”
Lydia jammed her fingers into his knee again. She could feel her knuckles bend as they curled around the broken shards of bone. This time, Paul screamed so loud that his voice broke. His mouth was open. Air was passing through his vocal cords, but there was no sound.
His heart would be shaking. His bladder would be releasing. His bowels would be liquid. His soul would be dying.
Lydia knew, because Paul had made her scream the same way inside the garage.
He started to convulse again. His arms were stiff. His grip tightened around the wound in his neck. She saw dark red blood dripping between his fingers.
Claire said, “I have a first-aid kit in the car. We could patch up his neck and make this last longer.” Her tone was conversational, almost the same as Paul’s had been inside the garage. “Or we could burn him alive. There’s some gas left in the can.”
Lydia knew that her sister was deadly serious. Claire had already shot him twice. She would’ve executed him if Lydia hadn’t stopped her. Now she wanted to torture him, to burn him alive.
What was Lydia doing? She looked down at her hand. The fingers had all but disappeared inside what was left of Paul’s knee. She could feel his tremors resonating straight into her heart.
Into her soul.
She forced herself to withdraw her hand. Taking away his pain was one of the hardest things she had ever done. But no matter what hell Paul Scott had visited on Lydia and her family, she wasn’t going to turn into Paul, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let her baby sister.
“Where is she, Paul?” Lydia tried to appeal to what little humanity Paul had left. “You’re going to die. You know that. It’s just a matter of time. Tell us where Julia is. Do one decent thing before you go.”
A thread of blood slipped from Paul’s mouth. He told Claire, “I really did love you.”
Lydia asked, “Where is she?”
Paul would not look away from Claire. “You were the only good thing I ever did.”
Claire tapped the muzzle of the gun against her leg.
He said, “Look at me. Please, just one more time.”
She shook her head. She stared out at the field behind the house.
He said, “You know that I love you. You were the only part of me that was normal.”