Desiree stood frozen in disbelief before Khaye. Confusion was another thing and it bugged every corner of her mind, the feeling of betrayal etching its way in.
"There were quite a lot of things that happened behind that hotel door, Desiree, but I bet you never thought of anything close to whatever you must be realizing right now, right?" Khaye smiled bitterly. "But don't think I don't understand your desperation...and the fear. I've been desperate to tie the loose ends for months. I've been afraid I'd get caught. I've been confused, been made a pawn of, been kidnapped by your people. But then, it all ends well. For me, that is," she hastily added, her eyes boring into Desiree.
"Khaye..." was all she could muster. "You hate us that much?" She wanted to throw up. She suddenly felt sick.
Khaye slowly shook her head and started to move her hand conversationally, the gun moving along with it. Her face had completely changed into someone Desiree hardly recognized. But then, somehow, in the deepest part of her brain, Desiree knew it had always been there in the surface. They were just too naïve to see it.
"You know, I was really hoping we'd be friends. Do you know how happy I was when we first met here three years ago? And then there was Jam. She was bubbly and beautiful. All of us were. I couldn't have felt anymore home anywhere else. But then you all turned Mean Girls on me. And I thought, well, why not? If that would make my friends happy. But you were never my friends, were you? The pranks kept coming. Until I had enough and decided to just do things my way. But," she said, her smile back on her face, "that's not enough reason for me to kill any of you. I've imagined doing that, but not to the point of taking action. So don't think I killed Jamaica merely because I hated her or you." Held the gun in both hands now and Desiree took another step back.
"This, Des, is merely self-preservation. Someone has to survive this one and it can't be the two of us. I've been under your shadows in the years we've all worked together but I can no longer let you win this one. I started this, I'm gonna finish it."
"Why? Khaye, what did you do?" She knew what Khaye did. But she needed to hear it. She needed to kill the time.
Khaye blinked, her hands steady. "That night happened." She let out dry chuckle, the gun shaking with her laughter. "I discovered something about Jamaica. She wasn't what we all thought she was, was she?" She tilted her head to the side to curiously look at her. "And maybe you too, but that doesn't matter anymore. She found me hiding in your closet after thrashing your clothes, and I swear that I never planned to do anything other than ruin as much of your dresses as I could. She didn't know I heard enough to realize she was doing more than what she should be doing. She let me go after she made me promise not to tell a soul. Of course, I did. I promised. She just fucked a guy and then a few hours later, she was about to fuck another—Petroff."
Desiree watched Khaye shift her weight from one foot to the other, her face crunching up in disgust. "That guy was never good in bed, I tell you that. It wasn't a surprise that she was fucking him, you know. I know I wasn't. I followed her and Petroff, wanting to gather more evidence, you know, so I could use them in the future if I needed some favors. And the exciting thing happened." Desiree almost shuddered, dreading what Khaye would say next. "The other guy, Richard, came inside her room and I heard them from my side. I was behind the connecting door, if you must know. They fought about Jamaica and then they fought about the money. And then Petroff left. And then Richard and Jamaica were talking about running away with the money. That must have been a lot of money for her to leave everything behind, right? So a thought popped in my head. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if she left without it, you know. She had been making money on the sideline while we all worked our asses off out there on the runway. So when the Richard guy left, I came in through the connecting door."
Desiree's heart raced faster. She wanted Khaye to stop talking, yet she needed to hear everything. "Oh, don't act so ridiculous, Des. You know where this story is leading to." Khaye rolled her eyes before she continued, "You should have seen how shocked she was when she saw me. She demanded that I leave at once. But I knew enough to get her in trouble. I told her I want some of her money. She said no and I told her I want all or I'll spread her sex video everywhere. If she wanted to go away with the Richard guy, she should pay for my silence. But do you know what she did?" She raised her brows in question, waiting for Desiree to utter a word of answer. When none came, Khaye smiled. "She laughed at me. The fucking bitch laughed at me. She pushed me to the wall, dug her finger into my chest and roared, saying that she tried to be nice to me, to save me from any trouble. I told her she wouldn't be able to get rid of me because I would go run to Petroff and tell her about her plans with the other guy. Then she laughed some more."
Desiree felt like she was watching a one-man show as Khaye waved the gun around, narrating everything that happened that night. "Oh, you stupid, naïve, girl,' she laughed at me," Khaye said, imitating Jamaica's voice. "And then she told me she would rather jump off a cliff than run away with just a bag of money and a guy who was too stupid to fall in love with her. She said she was planning to ditch him, make a fool out of him. She'd go to his father, she said. She'd go and point everything she did to him."
"No," Desiree gasped out, shaking her head. Jamaica wouldn't do that.
"And then she went crazy, saying everyone thought she was a fool but she knew better. ' I know they've been following my every move,' she said. She needed that man to fall into the trap that they had set up for her."
Desiree stumbled back in shock and denial. "She wouldn't do that."
Khaye laughed out loud. "What do you think she was? A fucking saint? Come on, Desiree. You've been in her world. You know what they are capable of. And she told me that herself that very night. She told me the many ways she could make me suffer. She told me how she gave me a chance but blew it away. She'd show me real nightmare. She promised me that." Squaring her shoulders, Khaye bored her eyes into Desiree's wet ones. "But before she could do anything, I killed her."
Khaye shrugged her shoulder as if she just announced she just went out for coffee. "Honestly, I couldn't believe I did it. And so did Jamaica. She must have thought the worse I could do was thrash your clothes and videotape her sex life. I am more than what you all think I am. I do my job better. I could act better," she said and then stopped. "Which I did pretty well for six months now," she continued, her gaze never leaving hers. There was nothing there but pride and anger and a lot of other things Desiree couldn't point out. "So that's what happened. I stabbed her and watched the life come out of her before she got another chance to strike me. Which was what she was about to do. It was self-defense, really. I still dream about it every now and then, you know. Maybe I feel guilty? But who knows?" Her hands steadied, pointing the gun at her when Desiree moved. "And when I was sure she was dead, I crept back in my room, washed the blood off my hands and changed my dress. Then I waited for the right moment to run out of the room. I saw you, you know. You were with a guy. I wanted to call out to you, tell you that I accidentally killed her but then I thought I should just go on with my original plan. You would never believe me. No one would believe me if I said that. Because you all knew how much I hated both of you. So I called my brother. And that was the biggest mistake I did that night."
Desiree knew she should keep Khaye talking until she could find a way out of this. She almost snorted pathetically when she heard Theo's voice saying, "I told you to stay. You never listen," inside her head.
"You know my brother, Gian, is a detective, right?" she asked Desiree. "And then his partner, Marco, came and everything was just a mess. I had to keep my mouth shut while I thought of a way out of what I did. It was my first time to kill someone, so please excuse me for that. And just as when they all thought I was just as much of a victim as I was a witness, Petroff went after me." She laughed again. "He must have thought I would say anything about their stupid organization. The Liaisons have been a very big pain in my ass. They kidnapped me and tried to kill me. And then Gian started to change while the investigation was going on. And I knew he knew. The moment I saw him when I woke up after a gunshot wound, I knew he knew I did it. Marco then said that I need to stay away for a while. And that was good enough for me. Every fucking day I had to live with the fear that Gian would say something. But he didn't—because he's my fucking brother after all. I tried my best to follow the investigation through Marco, hoping that they would get to nowhere. I tried to stick to the truth as much as possible. I even tried to convince them you couldn't have done. My act was perfectly working and I didn't even have to lie that much. If only the Liaisons would stop pestering me!
"And then Gian had to choose the perfect moment suggest that I go away. He didn't have it in him to arrest his own sister, but he also didn't want me to stay with Marco. So I went away. I agreed with him about Marco. He might know the truth after all. He had been secretive and I didn't know when he'd make his move if he knew. Then what I was hoping for happened. The Liaisons stopped their attacks. The case went cold. I was ready to go back. So I waited for Marco. And he came. And my life, surprisingly has become much better. Who would have thought, right? I became an instant star. Everyone now demands for my presence because I am the girl who survived a lot and came back." Khaye was nearly breathless now. "And here I am." She paused and repeated, "And here I am, ready to finally tie loose ends."
"I don't think killing me will tie any loose ends, Khaye," she finally managed to say. "Killing me would mean another murder."
Khaye was already shaking her head before Desiree finished. "No, no, no, Desiree. What do you think I am? Stupid?" The sudden wash of anger on Khaye's face unnerved her. "Killing you would make my life quite perfect. Killing you would mean finding the killer. Because, really, who else could be the best suspect? It will be front page news, Des. Front page. Desiree killed Jamaica. Can you picture that?" Khaye gave her a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "Desiree came out of hiding after learning that Khaye, the witness, had reappeared. So Desiree decided to kill the witness herself. Only that said witness had had a good training from her lover on self-defense and Desiree ended up dead instead. It's way better than my version of the story, isn't it?" Khaye smiled at her mockingly. "Way better."
"You're crazy."
Khaye's eyes blazed with fury once again. "Aren't we all crazy? We all do crazy things for the things we want, Des. Only in my case, I don't honestly have a choice. Maybe if I could return to that night six months ago, I might not kill Jamaica. But I did and I couldn't change that and I have to live with that. What I am doing now is self-preservation, Des. There's nothing more to it. I don't hate you that much to want to kill you. But if you think that I went through all what I went through just to go to jail, think again." Khaye's eyes had watered and a tear ran down her face as she focused the gun on Desiree.
"Khaye, please...don't—" Desiree's breath was snatched out of her.
The impact was too strong that she didn't realize Khaye had pulled the trigger until she fell on the floor.
"I'm sorry," Khaye said, dropping the gun to the floor before Desiree heard her footsteps fade away, leaving Desiree alone.