Chapter Eighty-nine: You Oughta Know

Lillianna’s Point of View

"Would you please just shut up?" I groaned, delivering a punch to the bruised and battered woman who wouldn't stop screaming.

It was surprisingly easy to grab Sam and she had been giving me plenty of reasons to unleash my anger on her. It felt satisfying to finally release all my frustration without holding back, and using a human being as an outlet was strangely therapeutic. But I had to keep reminding myself not to kill her... yet.

After a muffled whimper and sobbing, she fell silent. I released a heavy sigh, loosened my tense shoulders, cracked my knuckles, and wiped the blood off my hands.

I reached for Sam's phone and quickly messaged Matt. I didn't want him interfering with my plan. Despite what Matt and Tom claimed, our friendship used to mean something to them. That was the only reason I would consider sparing their lives, as long as they stayed out of my way.

Sam's phone buzzed almost immediately with a notification. I let out an exasperated sigh. Matt never messages back this fast. Was he that whipped? And why? Sure, Sam was pretty, but she could be annoying at times. I didn't understand what he saw in her.

Matt: I hate that you're feeling sick. Projectile vomiting and diarrhea? That's horrible! Do you want me to grab something for you with electrolytes and saltine crackers? They always help me when I'm sick.

I burst out into uncontrollable laughter, unable to contain my amusement. Matt couldn't even handle someone farting in the same room as him. And now he was going to be there for Sam if she had projectile vomiting and explosive diarrhea? He must really love her. I couldn't get rid of her now. Ugh, what a hassle.

With a cruel smile, I tore the bag off Sam's head, relishing in her terror. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at me with fear.

"Matt loves you," I taunted, "Did you know that? He may not have said it, but my former friend clearly cares for you. And that will save your life."

I leaned in close to her trembling form. "But don't think you'll walk away unscathed. Just be smart and do exactly as I say, and you might make it out alive."

Sam nodded vigorously, but I wanted more from her. Pulling off the gag, I scratched her face in the process.

"Say it," I demanded, "Promise me that you'll listen and follow my instructions so that you can leave here in one piece and get back to Matt."

"I promise," Sam whispered, her eyes filled with fear.

And she should be afraid. The reality of who Sam was dealing with finally hit her, and her bravado was gone.

“Call Matt and tell him you’re feeling terrible and need to rest. You don’t want him to check on you. Let him know that you’ll give him a call tomorrow if you feel better and send a text if not. Got it?” I insisted.

“Got it,” Sam murmured.

I walked over to the table and grabbed my gun. I didn’t trust the little bitch. I needed to make sure Sam really understood.

I didn’t untie her hands but held the phone up to her after placing it on speakerphone and pressed the barrel of the gun to Sam’s forehead.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned and called Matt.

“Matt?” Sam croaked out when he answered the call.

“Sam, you sound awful!” Matt said with great concern.

“I feel awful,” Sam said with a tortured chuckle. “I’d rather you didn’t come over, especially since this is probably contagious. If I feel up to it, I’ll call tomorrow. If not, I’ll text.”

I nodded in approval but didn’t remove the barrel of the gun from her head.

“I, um, can come over if you need me to. Some people are worth getting sick for,” Matt said awkwardly.

Did he just try and paraphrase that goofy snowman from the movie with the two sisters in a frozen setting to try and be romantic? Even Sam cringed at that.

“No, I don’t think that is a good idea. I’m pretty sure I smell awful right now,” Sam said with a forced laugh.

“Okay… but if you need me, I’ll be there,” Matt said sadly.

What was his problem? What if she really was vomiting all over the place and constantly rushing to the bathroom? Sam would smell awful!

“I know. I love you too, Matt,” Sam said, and I quickly hung up the phone.

“He won’t call back or text now. That would scare him more than me smelling badly,” Sam muttered.

“Why the hell did you lead him on like that? You could have just told him what I'd asked and been done with it,” I screamed, slamming the barrel of the gun against Sam's skull.

“What? No, I really do love him,” Sam gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as blood trickled from her temple.

She lay motionless on the ground. Panic surged through me. Did I hit her too hard? Is she dead? My hands trembled as I lowered the gun, unsure of what to do next.

Matt’s Point of View

Sam said that she loved me! That came out of nowhere. I was at a loss for what to do with this information. Just moments ago, I had offered to take care of her and now she's declaring her love for me. And did I really just quote Olaf? What is wrong with me?

The situation was awkward as hell, but I needed guidance on what to do next. I immediately texted Alex and Tom, begging them to come over. Maybe a couple of cold ones and video games could clear my thoughts. The thought of vomit or even a fart made me nauseous, yet I had willingly offered to take care of Sam while she was sick. It finally hit me that I was head over heels for this girl, and I hadn't even realized it until now.

I had never been one to settle down or get serious with a woman. But with Sam, it was different. She was strong-willed, opinionated, and unafraid to call me out on my bullshit. She didn't try to please everyone and knew how to have a good time. I found myself longing for her when she wasn't around. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was in love with her. And now that I knew she loved me back, what was I supposed to do?