One of Us Is Dead

by Jeneva Rose

She swiped the card. Then she swiped it again and again.

“What the fuck?! That’s impossible! Run it again, you idiot!” She swiped it once more, slowly, as if she were mocking me. “Declined. How do you want to pay for this?” Her meek voice had become more assertive.

“Money’s a little tight. We had a screwup with our last shipment. A rather big screwup, so I’m having to foot those losses until we can make it up,”

“If you don’t tell me what you do, I’m leaving you, Dean.” “Yeah right . . . and go do what? You aren’t worth anything and don’t know how to do anything. You may as well be a child who still needs—” With zero hesitation, I slapped him across his face as hard as I could.

What would people say when they found out? Who was I without money . . . again? I’d be Nomo, not Nemo. No money, not new money.

“With Karen, it feels like I’m falling, but not off a cliff or something like that. It feels like that sensation right before you fall asleep . . . you feel warm and safe and sure that when you close your eyes, everything is going to be okay, that dreams will be dreamt and morning will come.”

Love and entrepreneurship didn’t go hand in hand, because they both required sacrifice. And we only have so much we can sacrifice before we have nothing left to give.

“Just tell me what you want to keep your mouth shut.” I shook my head. Without missing a beat, Olivia responded, “Fifty thousand dollars.”

Fucking skank

“Why do you need the money? You have money!” “Why do you need a girlfriend? You have a husband.” She cocked her head.

Bryce’s office door was ajar. He never left it unlocked, let alone open.

I ambled to the desk and placed my hand on the mouse. I was just going to put the monitor to sleep, but instead, I hovered the cursor over a folder titled Insurance Policy.

There was a photo of the inside of a semitrailer filled with a dozen young girls. They were lying on the floor of it, dressed in raggedy clothes, with their feet and hands bound.

Smuggling women oh shit

“Fuck, Dean. All these girls are prepurchased. You’re paying for this mess one way or another.”

“He threatened your life, Olivia. I came here to warn you.” “I’m a big girl, Crystal. I can take care of myself.” Her mouth fell open. Was it really so shocking that I would choose to stand by my husband?

“We agreed to five, but that was before the other half-wit you hired went Mike Tyson on the salon owner. Now, I’ve got heat on me.” His voice was laced with anger.

Crystal figured out it was Olivia who sent those burglars to fuck up jennys salon

“You know, don’t you?” Crystal’s eyes widened. I raised my head back up. “I know. I know your real name is Savannah Hall, and you changed it to Crystal Redding a few years back.”

“The gun just went off,” she cried into my shoulder.

That girl had been through hell and back with an abusive ex-boyfriend. There was more after the case closed, after it was deemed self-defense.

“What do we do now?” “We do what women do: we handle it.”

“What do you want, Olivia?” “I want in,”

Olivia you’re a dumb box of rocks l

“How much?” “Five hundred thousand dollars,” I said without missing a beat. “And you give me the video.” He jutted up his chin. “Not a chance. I’ll hold on to the video as a life insurance policy. But I’d like in.

“What are you dressing up as?” Keisha asked. “A sexy skeleton.” “No way. That’s what I’m going as, Karen. There can’t be two of us,” Olivia pouted. I looked at her in the mirror. “Well, I already bought my costume. So, feel free to change.” I smirked.

Fucking hilarious 😂

“It’s so nice being married to someone with talent for a change,” Bryce quipped. “Too bad Crystal and I never experienced that,” Shannon smirked.

Hahahah I love it!

“You’re not asking the right questions,” I finally say. My patience with Detective Sanford has worn thin. He stops for a moment and then looks up at me.

“Ask me about Bryce.”

“What are you so happy about?” she snipped. “I get to be me. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

So conceited 🙄

People without morals were meant to be feared.

full-on hysterical laughter, doubling over dramatically. “What’s so funny?” Mark asked. “That evil bitch.” I was struggling to speak in between laughing. “You paid her for sex. And I paid her to keep her mouth shut,”

I’m so fucking happy she confronted him 🥲

“Dean Petrov. He walked right into his office and shot him in the head. He was sitting across from Bryce’s body with the weapon in hand when the police arrived.”

“Bryce killed Olivia, didn’t he?” “Yes.”

At the salon earlier, I had reprogrammed Bryce’s number in Olivia’s phone to go to a burner cell, and when I returned home, I did the same to Bryce’s phone, reprogramming Olivia’s number to the same burner cell. I would be sure to change them back before the evening was over and dispose of the phone.

I knew they were up to something 😏

I turned away from him, walked over to Keisha, and kissed her hard. People gasped. People cheered. I didn’t care about what reaction they were having as long as the attention was on us. We were the distraction, the car accident you can’t keep your eyes off.

Didn’t see that coming lol

She finally saw the bait on the bed. She was only steps away from the spot where I needed her to be. “Ah, there it is,” Olivia said. My eyes widened. She was there. I held the bat up high and swung as hard I could, cracking right into the back of Olivia’s head. She fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, hard and loud. I wasn’t sure if her skull had cracked or the bat had.

Crystalllllllll

“I’m sorry, Jenny. You weren’t supposed to be at the salon. It was just to scare you, to remind you that I made you.” I think it was the first time Olivia had ever been honest in her life. I pointed the gun directly at her. “Do you still think you made me?” She shook her head insistently.

breathed a sigh of relief and tried to stand again. I raised the gun and turned off the safety. “What the hell are you doing?” Her eyes were wide. “Putting us out of your misery.” I aimed the gun at her. She gasped, “Jenny, ple—” and before she could speak, before she could beg for her life, I fired off three shots. Two through her chest and one through her head.

BAM!

The bright-red splatters across her face and chest contrasted beautifully with the white skeleton bones of her costume. I gave Olivia her final touch-up, her beauty glow in her favorite shade one last time.

Olivia was like a cancer, and not one that could be treated. She needed to be cut out. You might be questioning whether we really needed to kill her. The answer is yes.

It shouldn’t be surprising, what we did. What I did. I just did what I always do. I took care of my clients.