Page 23 of The Cabin


  "You're better than you give yourself credit for...sometimes," I said.

  "You're just saying that because you want to get in my pants."

  Rolling my eyes with my lips curved, I turned my attention back to my friend. "You would have been rooting for Blake from the start, Court."

  I had no doubt Courtney would have liked Blake once she really got to know him. She would have been the one sitting on my bed, going on and on about how obvious it was that we would eventually happen.

  "She had taste," Blake teased.

  Well, that wasn't quite true, but I didn't want to bad-mouth Josh.

  "Say it," Blake said in a dead tone. "Whatever you're thinking about Josh, just say it."

  I squeezed his hand. "No. You already know what I think. I'm not going there again. Not anymore." Not now he wasn't around. Everyone knew my opinion of Josh, so I didn't feel the need to keep reinforcing it. I'd let it go.

  "Such a good girl," Blake muttered.

  "You know why, Blake," I whispered.

  "I do. I just don't know what the difference is. You think it, so why not say it?"

  Blake was the type of person who would stick to his convictions no matter what, whereas I believed that after someone was gone, you shouldn't speak ill of them--aloud anyway.

  "Because he's dead. I won't be the type of person that pisses over--" Blake's burst of laughter made me roll my eyes. He loved it when I swore because it didn't happen often. "There's something very wrong with you."

  "My life would be very dull without you, Kenz."

  I think that's the other way around.

  "I never know what to say when I visit Josh or Pete," he continued. "People around are chatting away, and I'm just sitting there like an idiot."

  "You don't have to say anything. It's enough that you visit."

  "Please," he said. "Josh is definitely up there making some snarky comment."

  Probably. At first, when I started visiting Tilly and Gigi, I sat in silence for hours. It wasn't until about a month later that I just started chatting about the things we would have talked about if they were still here, and then I started to tell them about things I was doing and my plans for the future.

  "It seems like just yesterday we were bickering on the way to the cabin." I ran my hand over the soft grass that had grown over the mound of dirt. "I can't believe a weekend away ended like this," I said, taking a breath.

  "Hey," Blake said, squeezing my hand and leaning over to kiss the side of my head. "You want to get out of here now? It always upsets you."

  "Sure," I replied and stood up with him. I would have stayed longer if I had been alone, but I knew how much Blake hated it when I cried. And I didn't want to sit in a churchyard all morning sobbing.

  We walked toward the road hand in hand. Being with him wasn't easy, but we'd fought our way through a lot together, so neither of us was going to give up just because things weren't always simple. We got a lot of stares still, and our relationship was judged and picked apart on a daily basis, but people who thought we shouldn't be together only made us stronger.

  "Where to now, Miss Keaton?" he asked.

  "Megan's, Kyle's, and then back to check on your mum."

  "And when you've finished checking up on everyone else, are we going to make sure you're OK?"

  "I'm OK. I'll cry later, when I'm home alone."

  "First, I'm staying with you tonight. And second, you don't need to schedule your emotions around me. Besides, I'm getting used to the over-the-top, complete head-fuck that are females."

  I laughed at his interesting choice of words, shaking my head as we walked toward Megan's house. "Thanks for that. I really am doing OK today though. Better than I thought I would be."

  Sixteen months of intense therapy later, and I was actually doing all right. I still only trusted three people in the world: Mum, Dad, and Blake. But I was coping and living. Putting my trust in other people was hard now. Not only had I learned that people were capable of doing truly awful things, but also that my ability to read people may as well have been nonexistent.

  There was still a long road ahead, but I was healing.

  And I wasn't as angry with Aaron as I had been. He wasn't evil. I truly believed he was sick, and Megan had told me that he was receiving the help that he needed. Maybe if we'd realized what he was going through sooner, Courtney and Josh would still be here. But we didn't know.

  Since that day, I had seen Aaron once in prison. He'd explained himself, and then I'd left. It was difficult to see him looking so lost and afraid, but he'd done something terrible and he needed to be held accountable. Recently, I had been thinking about going back to visit him in prison though. I had started to slowly forgive him. If there was anything good that could come out of this, it would be for Aaron to get better.

  No one apart from Kyle, Megan, and his parents had bothered with him. I didn't want to be one of those people who'd turned their backs on him if there was a chance he could change. I wanted the old Aaron back so badly. Blake was constantly reminding me to keep my expectations realistic though. The old Aaron I loved so much might never come back.

  With time, I had also started to forgive him for trying to set up Blake and stabbing him. I wasn't there yet, but I didn't want to carry a grudge and hate around. It was exhausting.

  Blake didn't talk about forgiveness much, but he did tell me that he wouldn't hold it against me if I wanted to be there for Aaron. I knew I wouldn't lose Blake, so I was all for it.

  "What would you say if I told you I want to visit Aaron?" I asked, looking up at Blake, so I could see his reaction.

  His eyes turned stormy and he held my hand a fraction tighter. "I'd say you were crazy. But you have this need to help people and I love you for it. I knew you would want to see him, Mackenzie. I've been fine with it for a while and was just waiting for you to get there. I love you more than I hate him, and that will never change."

  My heart melted into a puddle. Blake wasn't the romantic type, so he didn't say I love you every hour. When he said he cared for me, the words meant so much.

  Sometimes I gave myself ulcers stressing over how we got together. Would it make Blake feel like he couldn't break up with me? Blake told me I was worrying over nothing and needed to discuss it at my next counseling session.

  "I love you so much, Blake."

  Smirking, his eyes flicked back to their usual state. "Well, of course."

  "Do you think you'll ever grow up?"

  "Not if I can help it," he replied.

  Good. I loved him just the way he was. We had years before we needed to grow up anyway. I was finally learning how to be a carefree teenager again, so I was determined to enjoy it.

  Megan was alone in her house; I could tell that just from looking at it. When her parents were home, there was always a window open, a light on, music, energy.

  Groaning, I said, "I bet she's upset."

  Blake looked like he wanted to head for the hills, but instead of making an excuse to leave, he squeezed my hand. We walked straight inside.

  "Megan!" I called. I found her in the kitchen. She sat at the large pine table. She was wearing her coat, scarf, and gloves, so she'd either just got home or was about to go out. There was a gun on the table. Her dad had a few and I'd seen them about, but not when he wasn't at home.

  "Hey," I said, worried. "Megs, are you OK?"

  She didn't move.

  "Who's is this?" Blake asked, picking up the gun from the table to admire it.

  "It's her dad's. Put it down," I said. I'd never liked guns. They kind of intimidated me.

  Blake put it back on the table.

  Megan didn't move, but her mouth did widen in a grin.

  "Seriously, Megan, you're scaring me. Are you OK? Did something happen?"

  Have you spoken to Aaron? Is he OK?

  Eighteen months ago, he was taking his Rohypnol-laced vodka out of the case and checking where the knives were stored in the cabin's kitchen. Would he be thinking about t
oday?

  "Megan, answer Mackenzie," Blake said and then waved his hand in front of her face. "Hey, are you OK?"

  I could've kicked him. If I hadn't been so worried about Megan and focused on her, I would have. Her eyes were dull and sunken, like she hadn't slept for days. Maybe she hadn't. Blake, Kyle, and I had gone to the movies yesterday, but Megan had canceled at the last minute. Getting back to some version of normal was still really hard for her, and I think the anniversary brought back the loss of Tilly and Gigi too.

  Blake sighed. "Kenzie's worried, Megan. What happened?"

  "They killed her. They killed them both," Megan whispered. Her eyes were wide and still fixed on the table.

  Blake and I looked at each other. He looked utterly lost. I was right there with him.

  "Megan, who are you talking about?" I asked.

  "You know who I'm talking about," she spat.

  Yes, I do.

  "It wasn't Courtney and Josh's fault, Megan. Come on, you know that."

  I felt like I'd just been catapulted back a year. Everything I'd worked so hard to put behind me started to crumble. I couldn't go through all of this again.

  "Megs, please. Don't let Aaron get to you."

  She shook her head slowly from side to side and her lip curled at the edge. "But it wasn't Aaron, Mackenzie. It was me."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The blood drained from my face. "What wasn't Aaron?" I asked. My voice, failing me, was barely a whisper. I could guess--it was obvious--but I needed Megan to say it.

  For the first time since we had arrived, she looked up and her eyes bore into mine. They held absolutely no emotion. Her eyes were nothing but dark pools.

  "I did it. I killed Courtney, Josh, and Pete. Aaron is as innocent as you. He confessed to cover for me, but he can't handle it in there anymore. Now he's going to tell the truth."

  My mouth fell open as she confirmed what I was trying to convince myself couldn't be true. "But...why? What?" She did it. She let Aaron do that for her. My head spun so I had to hold my stomach to stop myself throwing up.

  I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming.

  "I can't go to prison, Mackenzie. You know I'm not strong like the rest of you. I would die in there."

  I closed my eyes and held up my hand. "Wait. I don't... How did Aaron know? Why and how?" Nothing made sense again.

  Beside me, Blake was still, as if he was still processing what she had said and her words hadn't caught up with him yet. He was usually quick to react with a stupid comment or a smirk, but right now he was stone.

  I easily had over a million questions, and they all whizzed through my mind at lightning speed, too fast for me to pin down long enough to ask any of them. The whole situation was crazy. Megan and Aaron were crazy. I was angry, confused, and hurt.

  Megan's eyes filled with tears. She was still calm, calm, calm. I envied her that. She'd done this horrible, unforgivable thing, and I was the one who was bloody livid. "Do you have any idea what it's like waking up in the hospital and being told the woman you love is dead?" she asked.

  I shook my head. We were going back to Gigi. I wanted to yell, but I knew better than to do it. I needed the truth. Aaron needed the truth to come out. Oh God, Aaron! I had thought he was guilty and so did Josh's and Courtney's families.

  "Megan, they didn't kill Gigi. Nobody killed either of them. It was an accident."

  God, this is why Aaron's confession seemed so rehearsed--it was. Those were Megan's words, not his.

  "It's hell," she said, ignoring what I'd said completely. "I couldn't even grieve properly because no one knew about us. I missed her every second of every day. I felt like I was drowning, and there was no way out. There was nothing I could do to make myself feel better or to make someone pay for what had happened. Justice was never served, but they both deserved what they got." She picked up the gun.

  What is she doing?

  "Megan," Blake said calmly, smiling a warm smile like the ones police give someone about to jump off a building. I was freaking out inside, my heart pumping a hundred miles an hour. "It's OK, Megan. It's going to be fine, but I need you to hand me the gun."

  "No," she replied, her knuckles turning white as she gripped hold of the handle. My eyes widened and time screeched to a halt. "The things Josh said ate away at me. He was glad it was them rather than him. How could you wish someone died over yourself?"

  I didn't get that either, but I wasn't prepared to kill over it.

  "I don't know," I replied, just in case it wasn't a rhetorical question. My eyes flitted between Megan and the gun.

  "I kept thinking about them both rotting in the ground while Josh walked around doing whatever he wanted and Courtney followed him. I couldn't stand it. Because of them, Tilly and Gigi were dead. They didn't even care. We all took responsibility and we felt some guilt, but not them. They. Didn't. Care."

  "Courtney did," I said, defending my friend who wasn't able to defend herself. Whatever her flaws, she loved her friends. Megan was painting Court with the same brush as Josh, and it wasn't right. She was guilty of letting Josh walk all over her, but she cared.

  Megan shook her head slowly, her jaw tightening in anger. "I confronted her the night after Josh said he was glad it was them. Courtney admitted she was glad she didn't die. Can you believe that?"

  Well, yes. "That doesn't mean she wanted it to be Tills and Gigi. It just meant she didn't want to die." I was glad I didn't die, and I knew that was selfish, but I was. If I had a choice though, I would have swapped with them in a heartbeat.

  "Maybe she didn't want it to be them, but it was. She chose Josh over her friends, like she had done a thousand times over."

  "So that meant Courtney and Josh deserved to die?" Blake asked. His lip curled in disgust and I squeezed his hand to try and diffuse some of his anger. This wasn't going to a repeat of what happened with Aaron. We absolutely had to stay calm. He had to stay calm. Megan had a gun.

  "Yes," Megan replied. "There was a link--a link between Tilly, Gigi, Courtney, and Josh." She held her hand up, pointing at nothing with her index finger. She was gone. The girl I knew was somewhere else. "They were responsible for their deaths, and Tilly and Gigi would never get justice. I couldn't stand that. Two beautiful people were dead, and no one was taking the blame. No one was being held accountable."

  "So you took it into your own hands? Megan, that's not justice," I said, tears burning in my eyes.

  "You don't understand, Mackenzie. Josh and Courtney caused Tilly's and Gigi's deaths. They had to pay."

  "What did you do? Talk me through everything. I need to know. You owe me that much."

  "When I had made my decision to take things into my own hands, everything became so clear. It was like the fog had lifted. I instantly felt better about their deaths because someone was going to pay. I knew that it wouldn't bring them back, but there had to be justice. At first I was just going to go to Josh's house when I knew they were there and Eloise was away. You know that wouldn't have been hard because Josh would brag about having the place to himself."

  That sounded like Josh.

  "When he mentioned going away to the cabin, everything changed. It was better, easier. I knew I was incriminating you guys too, but I thought it through carefully and knew none of you would be arrested. Blake coming along last minute threw me, but it didn't really matter. I had enough Rohypnol."

  I laughed humorlessly. Well, thank God she had enough for all.

  "Where did you get it?" The idea of Megan getting hold of Rohypnol was ridiculous.

  "You remember stoner Richard from school?"

  "Yeah," I replied. Rich had been suspended from school countless times for smoking weed. He was good-looking and actually pretty smart, but his home life sucked and he used weed to make everything better.

  "He moved on to harder stuff, doing quite well for himself actually." She shrugged. "He can get pretty much anything, so he was boasting. Anyway, I planned to drug you all, only enough so you'd be out
of it until morning. I didn't want to hurt you. I put Rohypnol in the liquor and took a second bottle, which I hid in my suitcase, so I could swap them over."

  "Why?"

  Blake snorted. "So when the police tested the bottles it'd be clear."

  Megan dipped her head in a nod. "Yes. And I had a change of clothes, matching. I bagged the clothes and bottle, weighted it down and ran up the river as far as I could go before I lost sight of the cabin. It's all somewhere down there. After that, I had a shower, changed into my duplicate clothes, and went to bed."

  I wanted to stop listening.

  "You missed the part where you stabbed our friends to death," I hissed.

  She bowed her head. "You know what happened."

  "Who did you kill first? How did you do it? Did they fight? Did they die quickly? Why did you stab them so many times?" I asked, fighting myself to remain calm. I wanted to hit her, scream at her, strangle her. How could she?

  "Do you really want those answers, Mackenzie?"

  "Yes," I snapped.

  She looked surprised, as if I'd just let her walk away without telling me what happened in those hours I lost to Rohypnol.

  "I gave you, Blake, Aaron, and Kyle more of the liquor." The spiked liquor she meant. "When you all started looking dopey eyed, I took half a shot myself and gave Josh and Courtney a few too. I needed them to be able to walk around after you four were out of it. I wanted them to know what was happening without being able to fight back. It worked. I waited in my room for an hour after I heard you and Blake go upstairs to be sure you were out of it. I knew you'd both crash pretty hard once you were asleep."

  She'd heard us go upstairs. Not once did she mention anything about Blake and me being together that night. My face heated, but the enormity of what she'd done made any embarrassment pale in comparison.

  "When I went downstairs, Josh and Courtney were in the kitchen, cleaning up. I think they'd been at it a while, and even though Courtney said she was exhausted, Josh wanted them to do the washing up. I told them I got up to get a glass of water and offered to help too."

  Her eyes hollowed. "Courtney stumbled into the counter, laughing as she threw the enchilada boxes in the bin. She laughed as if she didn't have a care in the world."

  I wanted to shake her. We had all laughed since Tilly and Gigi died. The world still turned and life still went on. That was just the way it was, and Tills and Gigi would never want us to be miserable forever.