Bury Me with Lies (Twin Lies #2) - S.M. Soto Page 0,4
pain from the movement. I manage to turn toward the source, and I’m surprised when I see Madison. She’s stricken; I see it in her eyes. This is bad. Really bad.
A scream tears from my lips when I try to lift my arm. It feels like everything is on fire, and I’m burning up from the inside out. Those knives feel like they’re now dipped in fire, branding my skin, tearing me open. The effort it’s taking to even attempt to lift my arm is all-consuming. I feel like I’m being torn in half, my head is splitting, screaming with pain. Each limb feels like it weighs a million pounds; they no longer feel like my own.
Madison’s hand grasps my outstretched one, and she pulls. I’m like a rubber band being stretched beyond its breaking point. My body feels like it’s being ripped, right down the middle. I can practically feel the flesh and tendons tearing, and I can taste the pain curdling on my tongue. It’s rancid.
Tears flow down my cheeks, and once I hit the center console, I let out a blood-curdling scream that rattles the trees surrounding us. It hurts. It hurts so much. I can’t keep going.
“I can’t,” I sob out.
Still pulling me out of the wrecked vehicle, my sister shakes her head. I can feel her desperation radiating off her. “Yes, you can. You have to. You’re not going to die here, Mackenzie, understand me? I won’t let you.”
It feels like an eternity of pain later when I drop onto the dirt beside the car with a thump, and the searing pang in my abdomen grows stronger. Still clasping my hands, Madison drags me a safe distance away from the car to allow me to catch my breath.
There’s a sudden creaking noise and the sound of something sliding. I shift, as much as my battered body will allow me, craning my head toward the sound, and my eyes widen when I see the wrecked vehicle teetering on the cliff. All it would take is one puff of air to make it drop and go rolling down the hill. And that’s exactly what it does.
There’s a loud metallic groan, and the bumper lifts in the air, before the car rolls down the hill with a mind of its own. Metal crashes against trees, glass shatters, all of it is an explosion of noise that rattles the forest surrounding us. Slowly, I turn back toward Madison, who’s staring down at me.
“That would’ve been me in there?”
She nods slowly, letting me process the situation. Tears spring to my eyes, and it’s all I can do to hold back the impending sob.
“I’m so sorry, Mads,” I choke, burrowing into the dirt and allowing the damp earth to hold me for the time being. “I tried. I really did try. But I failed you. They’re going to walk free.”
Madison shifts on the ground beside me, mirroring my position. She reaches out, her hand gently caressing my head as she smiles sadly. “You didn’t fail me, Mack. I never wanted any of this for you.”
“You deserved better.”
“And so did you,” she counters. “Help is coming. And when you make it out of here? You’re going to forget about this. You’re going to forget about me, about Ferndale, and you’re going to live the life you were always meant to. You’re going to be happy, Kenzie. For once in your life, you’re going to be truly happy. And I know you’re going to make a little girl really happy someday.”
My face crumples. “I’m not ready to let you go.”
“I’m never far. I live right here, always,” she whispers, pressing her hand over my heart. I can feel the warmth from her palm seeping into my chest. It only serves to make the tears fall harder. “Now, close your eyes and listen to my voice. When you get up, everything will be different. I promise.”
“Please don’t go,” I beg in a whisper. It gets lost in her harmonic singing and the distant sound of sirens, before the darkness pulls me under.
My head feels grainy as though someone recklessly shook a carbonated can; everything is fuzzy and bubbling inside. A continuous beep rings in my ears, and someone is saying something. Whispered tones that sound like they’re coming from every direction. They’re so loud, so clear and distinct; yet, every time I actively try to clear away the fuzz in my brain to listen, I can’t. I can’t make any of it out.