Dirty Secrets

Part 77

"Please don't let this be happening," Lyla begged, nearly collapsing against the counter.

"What?" Darcy's face widened in shock.

"No. No. No." Hot tears spilled from Lyla's eyes.

"What?"

Lyla leaned forward, hands on her knees, forcing the intake of air into her lungs. Her worst nightmare was unfolding.

"What did I say?" Darcy's voice rose an octave.

"It's on me. Totally my fault." Lyla couldn't catch her breath.

"What? What's your fault?"

"I'm a terrible person," Lyla squeaked. "That's why."

"Why what?"

"I'm a horrible person."

"Just stop it," said Darcy. "Don't start up with this again. You are not a horrible person."

"Yes, I am." Lyla sank down heavily on a kitchen chair.

"No, you're not."

Lyla sobbed.

"What just happened here?" Darcy squatted next to Lyla's chair. "Tell me. Please."

Lyla shook her head.

"Listen to me," said Darcy with compassion. "I've known you since middle school. We've been through just about everything together. You're a super good person. The best."

"Maybe I used to be."

"What are you even talking about?"

"I've been lying to you."

"About what?" Darcy asked.

"About everything."

"Like what?"

"About being... I can't tell you. I promised." Lyla buried her face in her hands.

"Promised who?

No answer.

"Lyla, answer me. Jack? Did you promise Jack?"

She nodded.

"Did you get pregnant?"

"I'm evil," Lyla said bitterly.

"You had an abortion?"

"No! It doesn't have anything to do with that."

"Then what?"

She slumped forward on the table, her face burrowed in the nest of her arms.

"Then what does it have to do with?" Darcy asked.

"Keenan."

"What did he do to you?"

Lyla sobbed.

"What?" Darcy pressed. "Tell me what he did."

"It's what I did," Lyla replied.

"What?"

"I killed him."

Darcy's throat clamped shut. Her face went pale. "I. I don't believe it."

Lyla nodded, her eyes on the floor.

"You don't know what you're saying." Darcy's voice flattened.

"That night. At that party," Lyla whispered into her knuckles.

"Out at the farm?"

"He wouldn't leave me alone. I was driving home and my car..."

"Your car broke down."

"He came after me." Lyla gagged at the memory. "He found my car. And he chased me up into the woods."

Darcy's eyes went wide. "You said you didn't see him."

"I lied." Lyla's shoulders shook, struggling to catch her breath. 

"So then what happened?"

"He found me. And he was gonna hurt me. Maybe kill me."

Darcy gasped.

"And, I don't even know how it happened," Lyla whispered. "It was like a nightmare. He slipped and he fell down onto the road right when Jack was coming around the bend."

Darcy covered her gaping mouth.

Lyla wiped her eyes. "Yeah. It was bad. Really bad. He broke his neck. He was laying on the side of the road all crumpled up. Dead."

"You sure about that?"

Lyla nodded.

"So it was an accident," said Darcy. "A freak accident."

"I was so high and so scared. And Jack. He came to save me and then that happened. He wanted to call the cops. But I was so scared."

Darcy asked, "What did you do?"

"I talked Jack into getting rid of the body."

"What? How?"

"It made sense. For both of us. Our lives would be so much better if none of it ever happened. If nobody ever found out. And so we did. That."

"Oh, no you didn't," Darcy gasped.

"We carried him through the woods and we threw him over a cliff."

"Oh, my God." Darcy's voice collapsed down her throat.

"We ditched his car," said Lyla. "And went back to the party. Hoping it was all over. Pretending like it never happened. We promised to never tell anyone. Ever."

"Oh, my God. Lyla."

"This secret has been tearing me apart. Piece by piece. I wanted to tell you. I so wanted to tell you so many times."

"I knew there was something." Darcy's eyes welled with tears as she wrapped her arms around her deflated friend.

"But it's not over," Lyla's voice cracked.

"What do you mean?"

"He came back," Lyla sobbed.

"Wait. I don't understand." Darcy unwrapped her hug and straightened.

"Jack saw him, too. He came back and he's been after us. He won't stop."

"He's buried in his family's graveyard," Darcy replied. "They said it on the news."

"He's back."

"How? That doesn't even make sense."

"I don't know." Lyla shook her head. "I don't know."

"You had a breakdown. I mean, now that I know what happened, I don't blame you. Nobody could deal with that kind of secret. All that pressure. No wonder you just..."

"He's back, Darcy. And now I'm so scared he's gonna hurt you."

"I said he looked like Keenan. You know, a dude with a shaved head."

"It's him. It's him."

"Stop saying that."

"It's him. It's definitely him. He killed Clarisse. And he almost killed Packer. And Jack on that church roof. And now he's coming after you."

"You know what?" Darcy straightened. "I can't do this right now."

"Don't leave your house." Lyla grabbed Darcy's sleeve and looked at her pleadingly. "Pour a line of salt at your doorways. And your window sills and don't come out."

"What?"

"Remember the salt in my front yard? He can't cross a line of salt."

"Sure?"

"Go home," Lyla said in a voice that didn't sound like her own. "Just do it." 

"I can't leave you here." Darcy trembled. "Not like this."

"You're not safe here." Lyla rose from the chair. "Go home."