“You got her?” I ask Hensley, who nods in return as she digs her heels into the floor.
I let go of her hair and move toward the table, sifting through all of Hensley’s goodies until I find something that I think willmakeher fucking look us in the eye.
With the paring knife in hand, I go back to Hensley and Gloria, sit down behind the bitch, then rest her head in my lap.
“What are you doing?” Hens grunts irritably.
“You want her to look or not?” I snap at her. I don’t like to lose my temper with my sister, but sometimes that’s all she understands.
Hensley blanches, shrinking down a little, so I reach over and kiss her. Passionately, deeply, so that she knows I didn’t mean the tone I used.
Where Gloria would have been able to see how our love has blossomed if she wasn’t being such a fucking coward right now.
“Hensley told you to do something for her,Mom. I think you should listen,” I taunt as I press the edge of the blade to top of her eyelid.
The bitch spits at me.
Right into my face even though she probably has an idea of what’s going to happen to her.
“Fine, have it your way.”
I press down and saw away at the skin, doing my best not to damage the eyes because Hens told her to look, not turn a blind eye.
My sister slaps my hand away once she realizes that I’ve almost got the first one off, leans down, takes it between her teeth and shakes her head back and forth until the skin gives way and she’s able to spit it into Gloria’s open mouth.
“Shouldn’t have screamed,” I tell her with a laugh as she gags and wretches at the feeling of the torn skin on her tongue. “And we’ve still got one more to go.”
My breath is hot against her forehead as I lay the threat at her door, then dutifully cut away her remaining eyelid.
Again, when I’ve almost got it off, Hens moves my hand and rips it away with her teeth, spitting it into Gloria’s cock sucker.
I toss the paring knife across the floor, then force Gloria’s mouth closed.
“We spent a few years surviving off the flesh of others,” I tell her conversationally as Hensley goes back to impaling her other hand with the fork.
Once she’s got her arms firmly in place, she moves a leg over Gloria’s body, then turns herself over.
“Grab a leg,” Hensley instructs me quietly.
With a shrug, I do as I’m instructed. Hens reaches for the lower half of our mother’s shirt and rips a shred of the fabric off, handing it to me.
“One sec,” she tells me as she stands up. I watch curiously as she pushes the kitchen table across the floor toward us.
Hensley then sits back down on Gloria’s stomach once she has the table where she wants it and holds her legs down.
“Tie her fucking ankle to it.”
The realization washes over me.
I had thought after all of these years that she had forgotten that moment—the one that I would have given anything to forget myself, but she hasn’t.
I nod as I quietly affix Gloria’s ankle to one of the legs of the table with the shred of fabric, then turn slightly enough to look at Hensley.
She gives me a sad smile and I chuckle as I nod.
Getting to my feet again, I glance down at what’s still left on the table before my eyes settle on a boning knife.
“This should do it,” I say quietly to myself as I sit down in front of our mother and shove her other leg out to the side.