There was a slight hiccup in her voice, and she averted her eyes. Emily’s heart jumped. “You know that’s not true,” she said loudly. “You’ve been in touch with her. In fact, I think she’s here.”
Mrs. D shook her head. “I’ve heard things about you. They said you’d gone crazy. I figured you were the one that killed Alison. I bet it was you alone, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t kill her,” Emily roared. “She almost killed me.”
“I read the things she wrote about you in her journal. You girls are monsters.”
“Hello?” the dispatcher said. “Is someone on the line?”
Mrs. D glanced at Emily’s pocket. “Who are you talking to?”
Emily touched the phone through the fabric. “I’ve called the police. They’re on their way. So you’d better start telling me the truth.”
Mrs. D’s bottom lip started to tremble. Something about her tough expression collapsed. “The police?” she squeaked. “W-why would you do that? They’ll come after you, you know. Haven’t you heard? Your friends were found guilty.”
“They won’t come after me. You know that. Just tell me where she is. I’m not going to hurt her. I promise.”
Though it was difficult, Emily didn’t break her poker face. Mrs. D’s eyes darted back and forth. She looked like she was going to crack.
“Hello?” the dispatcher said again. “Ma’am, we’re . . .”
But Emily didn’t hear the rest. She felt someone yank her from behind, pinning her arms behind her back. She let out a scream. Mrs. D’s eyes widened. And then Emily felt something cold and hard press at her temple. Her whole body went slack. It was a gun.
“Don’t move, bitch,” a voice growled.
A figure stepped in front of her, swimming into view. Emily saw a heavyset girl with sallow skin and dull, brown hair. It was the eyes, though, that Emily recognized right away—crystal-blue eyes that sparkled when they smiled. And the mouth, too. That beautiful, kissable bow-shaped mouth.
Ali.
30
NOT GOING DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT
“What are you doing?” Mrs. DiLaurentis screamed at her daughter. “Go back inside!”
“Oh, because you have this covered?” Ali howled, tightening her grip on Emily’s arms. And now her voice sounded utterly familiar, that beautiful and horrible voice Emily would never forget. “You told me you had this under control. But I saw you. You were about to tell her everything!”
Mrs. D rushed over and tried to pry Ali off Emily, but Ali shoved her away, sending her careening into the wrought-iron table. Mrs. D recovered quickly and gave Ali a plaintive, desperate look. “Just go inside, okay? Please. She said she called the police. Just go to that place we talked about. It’s safe.”
But Ali didn’t seem to hear her mom. She yanked Emily closer until her mouth was against Emily’s ear. “You made a big, big mistake looking for me, bitch. And now you’re going to pay.”
Mrs. D trembled on the other side of the patio. “Alison, stop,” she said sternly. “Go inside.”
Ali pointed at her mother. “This is your fault, you know. You should have prevented this. I trusted you.”
Mrs. D slapped her arms to her sides. “If you just go to that place we talked about, this will be fine!” She pointed at Emily. “I’ve got her covered. She’s a murderer. Everyone is looking for her. The police will take her away.”
“Or we could just get rid of her now,” Ali said, turning on Emily. At the same time, Emily yanked away from Ali with a quick spin, shot out her hand, and knocked the gun away. It clattered along the patio, coming to a stop by a large stone birdbath.
“You bitch!” Ali lurched for the weapon, but Emily tackled her and pushed her to the ground. She climbed on top of her, wrapping her legs around Ali’s thickened torso. Her breath heaved. Ali wriggled under Emily’s weight, her chubby face wincing, her teeth gnashing.
Ali spit in Emily’s face. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I could kill you,” Emily whispered.
Ali snickered. “Yeah, right. You don’t have it in you.”
“I don’t?” Emily bellowed in a voice entirely not her own. She reached out and clenched her hands around Ali’s neck. Ali’s eyes bulged. Emily could feel the muscles and tendons at Ali’s throat, and she willed herself to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. “I don’t?” she repeated. Dimly, she realized that Mrs. D was screaming.
The furious smirk on Ali’s face turned to something more fearful. Emily relished the terror in Ali’s eyes—for once, she understood what they’d been through all these years. All she wanted was to get rid of this girl once and for all. All she wanted was for Ali to pay.
But then she realized: It wouldn’t solve anything. And she really would be Ali’s murderer. No better than Ali was.
She pulled her hands away. Ali turned her head and coughed violently. Emily leaned down, close to her ear. “No. You don’t deserve to die. I’m going to make you rot in jail for the rest of your life.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it.”
There was the sound of a short, sharp click. Emily whirled around. Mrs. D stood behind them, holding the gun. “Put your hands up,” she whispered.
Emily leapt off Ali. Ali rolled onto her side, still groaning and coughing and clutching her throat.
Mrs. D’s hands might have been unsteady, but she was composed enough to release the gun’s safety. Her jaw was tight. Cords stood out from her neck. “Don’t touch my daughter,” she whispered.