Chapter Thirty-one

Fenella Burgess and Edward Montgomery would be pronounced dead in the news within the next few days. According to the paper, they were both killed in the house that they were found in. Their bodies would be cremated and that would be that. There wasn’t a person in the city who would take more than a glance at the headline before flipping to something more exciting. The b******s got what they deserved, someone would say. After all, they were nothing more than a pair of criminals in the end. Good riddance.

                Ed and Fay woke up chained to pipes in a locked bathroom. Judging from the lack of light in the tinted window above them, it wasn’t morning yet. Their open wounds burnt the second their eyes opened, but they had stopped pouring blood. The gang members that followed them there and locked them up for execution probably wrapped them up. Fay remembered Pluto’s fondness for keeping people alive as long as he could. Edward had read about that in the newspapers he studied. The two were sitting on opposite sides of the room, but the chains on their ankles attaching them to the sink were long enough that if they wanted to, they could still strangle each other. Pluto was most likely going to grant a last request or even freedom and a hospital to whomever killed the other, but it wasn’t going to happen. Fay and Edward could see in each others’ faces that it wasn’t going to happen.

                “Fay,” Edward said, breaking an hour-long silence. As he grew used to the pain, his words wavered between a voice and a breath. Fay only looked up at the ceiling, but she was listening. “You’re not trying to escape, huh?”

                She managed a huff of air that got caught in her throat that almost could have been a laugh. Her voice was almost incomprehensible from her lack of teeth. “You’d just try to stop me. Besides�"neither are you.”

                Edward sighed, following along with her and looking up. Aside from the brown water stains, it was completely white. That was what he focused on. It could almost pass for the snow on the ground outside. “I’m a wanted criminal who can’t leave the city. Everyone who could prove me innocent is dead and everyone I love is gone. I killed three people. My life now isn’t worth the effort.”

                “All because of me,” Fay said.

                His mind wandering as minutes passed, he came to the question, “What happened to Scott?”

                “Who?” she asked, before suddenly remembering. A ball of air got caught in her throat as she tried to respond, forcing her to cough and make the broken bones of her face feel like flaming rock. “Oh. He tried to escape. We fought, and I shot him in the chest.”

                Edward didn’t react. If he did, it would have been a small oh. It seemed an insult to Scott to react so little, but he already hated Fay as much as he could have. He was too tired for anything more.

                “We’re going to die when the sun comes up, aren’t we?” Fay didn’t get an answer, but she knew he heard her, and he agreed. She sighed, her warm breath making her teeth hurt. “You know what? If I did kill you, I’d probably end up killing myself right after. What would I do if I couldn’t chase you and make your life hell?”

                “It’s hard to break out of old habits,” Edward said, groaning between his words, “Our whole lives, we’ve done nothing but count on the other to pave the way. We’re both addicted to the pain the other causes. At least if Pluto kills us, then neither of us wins.”

Fay nodded with a deep, solemn breath out. “If it’s last words time, I have some stuff to say.”

                His eyebrow rose, even though she couldn’t see it. “Oh yeah?”

                “For one, your blond hair looked dumb as s**t. It was tolerable when we were rebel-y teens, but I can’t believe you went back for even a second.”

                He laughed. She had made him laugh�"not out of venomous sarcasm, but because it was funny. “Said the girl with the butterfly tattoo on her face.”

                “Gangster, lawyer�"big difference.” She had finally managed four words without her voice disappearing. “And when we were dating, I took about five bucks from your wallet every month.”

                “You think I didn’t notice?”

                “Damn it, I thought I was pretty sneaky about that.”

                “Well, you got better at being a criminal, I guess.”

                The less broken half of her face curled into a smirk. No matter when or what, his voice had a way of calming her down. A part of her suspected unintentional childhood brainwashing, but it wasn’t something she felt had to be taken care of. Aries had the same type of crisp, song-like quality, but it never quite matched Ed’s. From the very bottom of her vision, she was looking at him. It was too hard to talk to him without seeing him. This way, she could forget the egotistical, power-hungry lawyer and just talk to the injured animal in front of her. “The first few times I took the drugs, I had to picture you sitting next to me, telling me that you wanted me to be happy.”

                “When I moved away, I kept this journal and I wrote to you in it every night for a year. I thought sending you real messages would just make you more upset.” It was something he always wanted to tell Scott, but never did. He was finally saying it, and it was to Fay, but it was still somehow making him feel better.

                Just as Fay thought it was dangerous for herself to lose any more water, her eyes started to swell. It was alright. She didn’t think it mattered if she cried. “When I was in rehab, the doctors told me to ground myself by picturing something I really wanted; something I’d give my life to see. I pictured you strapped to a bed next to me, screaming and kicking, covered in drug rashes. It just seemed so easy for you to forget about me. It hurt.”

                “For a while before things got really hard, I kept the bottle that my mother used to overdose with me. I promised myself that I was going to kill you by shoving it down your throat.” That was something that he whispered when he slept, thinking his mother would hear.

                “When I was on the streets, I promised two thugs I’d bring them your head in a box. I guess they’re not going to get it.”

                “Funny�"when I was a lawyer, I promised some clients the same thing.”

                That loosened her throat enough for her to spit out a tiny chuckle. “The devil can do whatever he wants to me, but he’ll never take away the one bit of joy I’ll have knowing that you’ll be burning right beside me.” As her next words bled down from the roof of her mouth, she decided that it would be the last time she said it, so she made sure to enjoy it. “I hate you, Ed. From my heart of hearts, I want nothing more than to see you suffer and scream.”

                “I hate you, Fay.” Whatever minute bit of pain that phrase caused her�"even if she could barely feel it�"was worth it. Even if she felt nothing, he could remember cries he had caused before and imagine her face contorted in pain one last time. Even if it wasn’t real, he needed to feel like he had slapped her in the face one last time.

                At the same time, the two spotted the glimmer of light coming up from the window. For the last time in their lives, the sun was rising and yellow trickled through the tinted glass. The floor beneath them was shining enough that they could picture the glimmering April snow outside in the cold, fresh air. They wondered if the streets were coated in ice like they always were at least once a year. It was a random question, but anything that would take their minds off of each other was welcome. They were both so tired of thinking of each other.