'cleverer than a fox, and twice as pretty'

Saturday

"She was clever." Aron laughed lightly to himself. "Faster and cleverer than I gave her credit for. But she wasn't a ghost- even if she was pale enough for the contrary. Which helped to see her in the dark. But she was practically soundless, a bunny in a big, big forest raging with a storm."

"How'd she make you take the shot?" Detective Moore asked. "You're smarter than that. You know someone could've heard, even in that loud storm. A shotgun is loud."

Aron turned to Kit as he answered, "She was taunting me. I know that now, but it boiled my fucking blood when she said Lyssian had always been the smartest. She didn't know Benji, but she said I didn't sound smart enough to pull any of this off, when Lyssian hadn't even been in the game to play. He's been off fucking board since he left Toronto, too scared to leave Phryne of what I could do to him if he opened his goddamn mouth or disappear from view.

There was no life without me and with me. Stagnancy kept him safe, but also rotted him. So he kept here, right beside his stupid brother where he belonged.

But I knew she was taunting me. Little Sunny Finch." Kit couldn't hide the way he flinched and it egged Aron on, his smirk widening, his words sharpening. "Her voice echoed everywhere. But then she stopped, just between two trees, and she smiled. Sunshine knew how to play the game and she played well. She told me I was too much of a coward, wanted her too much to shoot her. She said I didn't like damaged goods, I liked them whole. She was too pretty to be shot at.

So I took the shot."

Kit stared at him for three more seconds. Then his fist swung. Aron knew it was coming, catching Kit's wrist inches from his face and slamming it hard on the table. The detective stood up, shouting, but Kit bared his teeth in a smile and swung his other, broken fist right on Aron's teeth. There were numerous horrible sounds before Officer Adebayo and another officer came in and separated the two.

Detective Moore glared at the two of them. "That's it, enough. Enough. I'm ending this right now."

"I'm not... done yet though," Kit whined, his own breathing betraying him, with his face skewered as he held his broken fist. Blood seeped through the bandages, soaking past the dirty cotton and bruised fingers.

"You broke your fucking hand, kid."

"I'm fucking fine." Kit turned to Aron with a notched eyebrow. "And you, asshole, how's your teeth?"

"Fucking bleeding." Aron smiled, showing the blood against his pearly whites. "But I'm fucking fine too."

Both of them turned to him with a scarily similar expression.

"You're both crazy. But maybe I'm crazier." He sighed, standing up. "Sit here, Kit. I'm sitting in the middle. One more punch and I'm hauling both your asses." The detective nodded at the two reluctant officers, who shared a look before leaving. Moore knew this was insane to continue, but he felt like he had no choice.

Aron and Kit were two faces of the same coin.

How far that run deep in either of them was something he still had to check.

And the story was unfinished.

The detective turned to Aron. "So you took the shot."

Aron nodded, holding his jaw before spitting blood on the floor. "I did. She didn't just turn left or right, she fucking sat down. When she met my eyes, there was no truer expression on her face. Unabashed fear looking right up at me. I liked that. I liked that a lot."

"-Then she looked behind you and saw me," Kit interjected, sighing in pain as he adjusted himself on his new seat.

"

It felt kinda funny, like a comedic shot. The crazy gunman towering over your best friend, and your best friend sitting on her ass, looking up at you with so much relief, it pooled out of her. It made her vulnerable, everything about her relaxing. Because I was there. Finally.

I moved without thinking because I could see the son of a bitch realizing Sunny wasn't just staring into darkness. So I pelted my entire body forward and tried to go for the gun.

I had the upper hand, in terms of the surprise factor. But even I have to admit Aron was stronger. Plus, he was holding a gun he just reloaded.

"Sunny, get behind something!" I shouted at her as we were locked in a struggle. We had rolled over to the mud and I was on top of him trying to get the gun and simultaneously not be near anywhere to the end of it.

But I was losing control and I couldn't look at anything else beside his ugly ass mug-

"

"Will you stop that?" Aron grimaced. "You're losing finesse, writer."

"I don't care, murderer."

"I won that fight though."

Kit glared at him.

Detective Moore sighed and gave Kit a pointed look.

"

Right, right. Well he did win, used the other end of it I wasn't focused on to hit me hard. On the groin. Black spots floated in my vision and my grip slackened. It was enough for him to push me on my own ass, and use the butt again to hit me with it. Several fucking times. Blows to my stomach, my neck, my own face.

I was losing my conscience. Fast.

Then I heard a battle cry, and knew Sunny had done something stupid when Aron stopped and was forced to turn to a Sunny Finch who was now roped behind his back, trying to fight him with rocks she found on the ground.

Sunny has never been physically strong, and desperate attempts have lesser strength. I knew that from experience.

She was thrown. Against a tree. She hit it with a force that I could barely shout to ask if she was alright. She was slumped against it, not moving. He was hovering above her before I could manage to stand, gun he had thrown midway when she pelted him with rocks. Something moved in the darkness.

Lorcan fucking Delos Reyes coming in clutch.

He took the gun and aimed it at him. Or in his general direction but he wasn't wearing his glasses and the rain was too hard. It was an unstable, very emotional hit.

He took the shot.

Aron laughed. "Missed me, stupid." Then he charged at him.

It might've been selfish, you could call it selfish. But I let Lorcan and Aron fight, even when I knew Lorcan wouldn't stand a chance. But I had to see Sunny, to make sure, so I crawled toward her. When I pulled her arm and checked for breathing, she was on her side, her hair covering her face. I sagged in relief when I felt it. Hot breath alive and strong. But her cheeks were cold and wet, flesh porcelain.

"Wake up, Sun, come on." I started shaking her awake. I needed to get her out of there first. At least, someone had to. I felt like an asshole, choosing to sacrifice myself and Lorcan if it meant Sunny could walk out of here. Alive. Well. "Sun, please. Come on."

"K-Kit?" she said, just as I heard a particular, brutal sound from somewhere not far from me. Lorcan groaned and Aron was saying something with the wind and the rain. But Sunny spoke, her eyes fluttering open.

"Run. When you get the chance, I want you to run." I could feel it. Aron finishing Lorcan off, hitting him again and again, the hard squelch of a fist on muscle. Meat. Skin. Aron was breathing heavily. I couldn't hear Lorcan anymore. "Whatever you hear, you keep going, okay? Whatever? I'm going to help you up and you keep running in the direction I'm going to push you. Okay? Okay, Sunny?"

"K-Kit... hurts..." she moaned, but she couldn't point where. Maybe everywhere. Her face, head, body. But I dug my elbows on the ground, groaning at every little bruised and broken rib, and tried to soothe her as I helped pick her up. My eyes found a long piece of wood, enough to hold onto. I grabbed it. Not enough to heft to seriously hurt, but it was something.

"I know. I'm so sorry. Come on." I repeated this until we were both up. She blinked unsteadily, mouth opening and closing. Rain splattered on both of our faces, our hairs splayed across in wet residue. I gripped her wrists too tightly, too afraid, and I saw her wince but I didn't care. I turned her around, facing the way back to the cemetery and praying that Lyssian Delos Reyes had done what I asked.

I had never prayed before, my mother wasn't religious. My dad believed in a few things, and sent a quick prayer before dinner or getting into the main roads, but that was it.

I prayed like I knew what I was asking, when the only thought I had was Sunny, alive and safe.

"Run, Sunny, run," I said, before I pushed her. Hard. She stumbled but caught herself, the momentum keeping pace as I struggled to see her between the trees and the wind. I only felt like I could breathe the moment I could no longer see her.

"That was very heroic of you," I heard Aron say behind me. He was so calm, and I felt it too. The stillness of what was about to happen. There was no way I was coming out of this one alive.

But I could make it harder for him to get to her.

I turned mid-way, smiling. Serene. Satisfied. He was a ghost in a clearing, with Lorcan crumpled not far before him. "Care to make this a little bit fairer?"

"A fistfight?" Aron smirked. He tossed the shotgun to the side.

"Make it entertaining." I was exhausted. I had about a few more hits in me before I called it a day. The most entertaining thing he could get out of me was maybe a pirouette. But I flattened my other arm, hiding the stick behind a leg, and raised my other hand in a come at me motion.

The smile I had on was the cockiest one I could do.

"I'm going to ruin you." He bared his teeth and lunged. With every strength I could muster, I swung the stick. It fumbled him, swung with just enough velocity that it drew him back. Enough for me to scramble to Lorcan's side, pulling him to me. He was bloodied, broken, but he was breathing.

That was enough.

I heard his heavy breathing, his footsteps, before the world went wild.

A few.

Good.

Hits.

Then black.

"

"So that's firsthand recollections from Sunny Finch, Isla Delos Reyes, Lorcan Delos Reyes, and me," Kit said, voice even. "And of course, you've got the verbal confession alongside it, as well as Lyssian Delos Reyes' complete admittance."

Aron blinked. "Lyssian?"

Kit smiled. "He's got a plea deal and Benjamin Halls had a few incriminating confessions."

"Confessions..." Aron's jaw set, realisation. Awful, awful realisation sunk on his shoulders like claws. "You let Lyssian talk to Benjie."

"You had that spot on," the detective said, tapping a finger on the table. The sound is loud and probing, and it was making Aron twitch. "Lyssian is smart. He's not as good with words as you are, granted, but the professor was scared. You left him all alone, thinking you had danced him around enough, spoke to him enough, that he would keep quiet. He was left wondering when his new toy was coming when Lyssian paid him a little visit, after he had seen his little brother's state. He came to confess- Benjamin in tow - the exact same day we finished our first recording, when you still called Sunny and Kit your friends."

"That was a brilliant alibi, I have to agree." Kit didn't sound as begrudging as he meant his words to be. "With all of us in various states of incapacitation, no one could refute you half carrying Sunny's body after finding her passed out, half mad with acting as you blubber on about us being in the woods. You tried to pin it all on Benjamin, knowing it made sense. You spun the tale so well, it was just a matter of making sure we weren't getting out of our various states of coma.

But you didn't think Lyssian would step forward. You didn't think I would call Lyssian, to confirm if he was really a suspect, especially with that damning evidence. That you didn't know Isla took and hid, just for Sunny, just for me."

Kit spun his cracked phone on the table.

"Maybe you were a good actor, but I must say, Isla Delos Reyes really took the cake on this one. And Sunny, for hiding this in your car and you thinking she was just a few steps passed out from trying to run away, head bowed on the steering wheel as if she had tried." Kit stopped his spinning and met Aron's icy, withering gaze with a soft smile.

"Fun fact: Sunny Finch can't drive to save her life. Unless it's a Vespa, she's useless behind a wheel. So that's four counts of Accessory to Murder, I gather, this is just off the top of my head, mind you." Kit laughs. It's pleasant and airy, and making Aron's fists clench so tight they were bone white. "And one actual conviction of murder. There are probably more, but you know. Off the the top of my head."

Kit's smile didn't look like the cocky one he wore to get a rise out of Aron from that fateful night, but the warm, cheeriness of it certainly gave the other man the exact same feeling.

Conclusion of the second part of the last chapter of GMSF.

Coming up next is a little epilogue and the behind the scenes: fun facts.

Thank you for being incredibly patient and wonderfully lovely.

Also a wonderful little shoutout to two wonderful human beings (who will probably never read this lmao), who helped me with a few features and facts. Thank you to S & K <3