I lie on my side, staring up at him while he retrieves the device again and pads it dry with his shirt, but we both know it's too late. The cheap burner he used won't be waterproof like a lot of the newer flagship phones out there. As he attempts to save the device from beads of water that are working their way inside and over the cell's chipboard, he stares at me with more intensity than before.
"You'd better pray that footage is still on there, Marie. Else I can guarantee you're in for a world of hurt."
Chapter 33
I attempt to catch my breath in the living room. The man placed me down on the sofa and bound my ankles with another zip tie. He pulled it as tight as he could across my skin as a scowl dug its way into his face. With focus in his eyes, he watches over me while attempting to save the cell I dumped into the toilet. Beth sits beside me.
"The screen’s getting worse," he growls out loud. "It's not accepting my input at all. I can't upload the damn video."
Apparently, the phone lost all capability to work when water flooded the components inside. The damage is giving me hope that the moisture will destroy the footage of my confession. There's no way in hell I'll ever say those words again in front of a camera. I'd rather die.
It still boggles my mind that I even said them in the first place. I always assumed I'd take what I did to the grave with me and tell no one who didn't already know. I guess I never thought a day like this would come.
The man places the cell down on the kitchen bench on one of my towels before he stomps over toward me. His eyes stay locked onto mine without direct eye contact. He regards me the way a farmer checks over his cattle before having them shipped off for slaughter. What thoughts are running through his mind?
He lets out a sigh. "So what should I do with you if I can't get your confession off that cell, huh?"
"Just let me go. I don't know who you are. I won't run to the police."
He crosses his arms tight over his chest. "Do you think I'm a complete moron? You realize what has to happen now, don't you."
"Yes," I mutter. I was in a mask at that gas station. And I went into hiding via witness protection the second I testified against Zach. How much effort had Zach gone through to send this psycho after me?
The man shifts his eyes up to Beth, turning himself to her level while keeping his arms crossed. "You're going to help me get a new confession."
"No, she isn't," I say trying to put any defiance I can into my voice. "Leave her out of this. Let her go." It hits me that I'm playing right into his hand. All he needs to do is threaten Beth again and I'll confess. I know it.
He ignores my demands with a smirk and continues speaking with Beth. "You understand what's at stake here?"
Beth bares her teeth. "You know I do."
I shift my focus to her. I can tell she doesn't want to do a thing in my favor after hearing my confession. She almost answers him as if I'm not in the room. It hurts, I'll admit, but I don't have a leg to stand on. I might as well be the devil to her now.
But as I hold my gaze on her eyes, I find anger and fear fighting over one another. I also spot something in there that tells me she might not completely hate me, that deep down, somewhere inside, she could see me as a fellow human being. That slither of light may be my only hope to escape this hell.
"But first, I've got a job for you," the man says addressing Beth. He points toward the kitchen. "Go put that cell into some rice. I saw some in the cupboard. While it dries out, we're going to work on a new confession from Marie." He smiles at me and chuckles under his breath.
This sick bastard looks like he will enjoy torturing the truth out of me. Luckily, I still have an item in my possession he has’nt bothered to notice. I found it when I fell to the floor in my bedroom. It's the one element that could pull me out of this mess.
Sitting in my back pocket is the half-broken knife I had planned to stab this asshole with. Could this half-shattered piece of steel save me? Maybe. But having the object is one matter. Using it is another.
I shake my head at myself, frustrated that Zach has sent this man into my home and forced me into this situation. Why should I have to choose whether I take a risk and attack another human being with a half-broken blade? Did Zach want this day to drag out hoping it could throw me into such a dilemma? I wouldn't put it past his cruelty.
I stare at the man in the suit and realize I might have no choice but to use my knife before the night is over.
Chapter 34
What was I thinking? What was running through my stupid mind when I dumped that crappy cell into the toilet? My confession was done. Over with. The hardest words I'll ever have to speak out loud were no longer sitting in my core, weighing me down.
For five years, I walked around with a weight on my shoulders that only seemed to grow heavier with time. Instead of accepting what was to come next, I screwed everything up. Now the man will force it out of me one more time. I can't go through that again.
The knife stirs in my pocket. Its tiny blade is no match for the giant piece of metal sheathed at his side, but I only need it to complete a quick task to stop any questioning short.
I glance at him setting up a new cell to record my second confession. He came prepared, I'll give him that. He places it in the same position again on the coffee table. But if he thinks I will confess the way I had before, he's got another thing coming.
The last moment we spoke, I was vulnerable. I thought I was confessing to save Beth's life. Is he really moving to use that tactic on me a second time? Surely I can convince myself he would never harm her, that it was all a bluff to get what he needed? I don't know what I'll do when push comes to shove.
The man settles on a seat in front of me from the tiny dining set that belongs to the house, placing it backward the way he had before. Beth is in the kitchen, trying to save the damaged cell while avoiding my gaze at all costs.
He leans forward and crosses his arms over the top of the chair. His leering smile breaks out again, along with his knife.
"Let's have a chat, shall we? Just for a minute before I hit record." The blade rises to my face and turns sideways. He runs the sharp side down my cheek, showing me how he could cut my skin without a stroke of effort. It travels past my neck and down the front of my chest, settling near my stomach. What’s he going to do?
"Lean forward," he says.
I take a shaky breath and do as I'm asked. He wraps both arms around my waist and cuts me free from the zip tie behind my back. He shifts my hands forward without placing another restraint on me. The plastic binding my legs remains.
With little concern, he raises my chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing my attention to his face to show me who's in control. "It's not looking good is it?" he says, jutting his head toward the kitchen. He's referring to the water-damaged cell Beth is attempting to fix. She's pulled the device apart to separate the battery from the body. Does she wish to recover the phone to spare me from confessing again? Or does she want it to work so he can upload its footage for the online world to digest and spit out again? Does she still care about me on some level? She has to.
I feel the man's grip force me around to his eye line. "What do you think this is, huh? She won’t save you from punishment. Who would save a person who shoots a child?" he spits. "Nothing can change what you did, so why don't you make this easier on all of us and confess."
I stare up at him, feeling the raw energy of the man as if he is a priest about to dunk my head in a lake. But some sins can't be washed away with a few words and a breathless moment under water. I will never be clean again, so there's no point even trying.
He scoffs. "Staying silent now are we? That's not going to spare you this time. I can tell you now. Don't think for a minute I'm not serious."
I hold his stare. It's what he wants from me. Once he fades back, he turns and places his large knife down on the coffee table and he hits record on the new phone as if he is preparing for a friendly chat between two people. What the camera c
an't see is my bound legs or the dangerous weapon off screen.
"Please state your name," he says like we're in court.
My eyes shift to the cell. "Karen Rainey," I say.
He bares his teeth with a chuckle. "Now, now. We both know that isn't your real name, is it?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, sorry," I say with a shrug. I keep my focus on him, waiting to see that moment when his upper lip twitches on one side. It only happens when things don't go his way, so I've seen it happen a lot already.
"Okay then," he says. "Tell me what you know about Marie Williams."
I shake my head with a scoff. "Are you serious?"
"Amuse me," he says, both hands spreading out wide.
The confidence fades from my face. I glance around to spot Beth standing in the open door frame of the kitchen, struggling away with her wrists still bound, as she stares at me in bitter disappointment. I get the sense if it wasn't for her, I would be feeling this man's true wrath.
I turn my head toward him and see the tightening of his fists. He's a big guy whose physical strength can't be matched, but I have an idea that will render all his power null in one sweeping motion. Why is it only coming to me now?
"Well, Karen?" he says. "What do you know about Marie?"
"She..." I blurt out, unsure what to say. "She..."
"What?" he presses.
"I don't want to do this," I say placing my hands on my head.
"What's the problem?" he asks. "I thought you said your name was Karen."
"It is."
"You won't mind me asking you a few questions about Marie then, will you?"
"I guess not," I force out. "Ask away."
The man gives me a false smile as he leans back. A shiver runs down my spine. Why do I feel as if he's gained the upper hand?
"How old is Marie?"
"Thirty-five."
He nods. "Thirty-five, huh? That's an interesting age for most. It's that time in your life when you've got things worked out to a point where you know what the next twenty years will be like. Does that sound right to you, Karen?"
My head lowers with a grin to cover up the overwhelming desire I have to lash out at him. He knows that's not me. He understands I’ve put my existence on hold and frozen it in time. All the while, the rest of the world passes me by.
"My thirty-five was a little different from the average person’s. I'd already settled down, gotten married, and had a kid. In fact, my wife was about to give birth to our second one by then."
I try to keep my face from showing any reaction to his story despite me wanting to question it more than anything else in the world. Why would Zach's guy tell me about his life? He continues.
"You think you've seen it all by thirty-five. You assume you'll know what to expect, but I can tell you now I wasn't prepared for the birth of either of my children when they came flying into our lives." He smiles at me again. This time without a hidden trace of malice. Is the memory of his kids being born helping his harsh mood? What does this mean?
"I remember the unique ways they each learned to crawl, walk, and talk. Despite being a few years apart, they both did their own thing and worked it out the way they wanted to. Fun times, I tell you."
I didn't know what to say or do. Was this a test because I shot a child? Or did he feel like talking about his kids?
"From my understanding, Marie doesn't have children. She hasn't settled down or let a special someone into her life, has she, Karen?" His eyes lower with a sneer as they penetrate any defensive layer I can use. It all becomes clear.
"I doubt Marie could ever understand what it would be like to raise a child or have a significant other, because you see she wasn't aiming to settle down by thirty-five the way most of us inevitably do. She was out there playing around in a deadly world she didn't belong in. She was out there disrupting the natural order of things."
My eyes dance through the room as I lean away from him. The more he says, the closer he gets. "I—"
"What’s your name?" he asks cutting me off.
"I already told you," I say as tears spill down my cheeks. "It's Karen Rainey."
"Bullshit," he spits. The blast of his breath almost knocks me back.
"Karen Rainey is the pathetic loser you created to hide your real self. You thought you had perfected the art of blending into the background of society. You thought Karen could keep Marie's sins hidden away forever, didn't you?"
"No, I didn't!" I yell. "I know what I did. I know who I am."
He heaves his breath in and out through clenched teeth. His knuckles turn white as his grip tightens on the sides of the chair in front of him. He stands up and flings it behind him.
"What’s your name?" he yells.
I close my eyes, flinching. Is he planning to hit me or stab me with the knife? All just to get me to admit what we all know to be the truth. All the while, I am wondering what Beth is doing. Is she watching? Will she help me? Or will she allow this beast to destroy me?
"I’ll only ask this one more time: what’s your name?"
I stare up into his eyes and sense an unwavering hate beaming through them. He wants to grab that knife from the coffee table and plunge it deep into my heart. But not while Beth is around. There's something between them. I have to use this while I still can.
"My name is Karen Rainey," I say.
Chapter 35
Zach's guy hits pause on the recording before he storms off to another room in my house with the cell in hand. I've never seen a man's knuckles turn so white. He’s so furious he has to make Beth place a fresh zip tie on my wrists, possibly out of a fear of what he'd do if his fingers touched my skin.
I wasn't trying to get him so mad that he killed me. I wanted to discover where his line sat for murdering me while Beth was a witness to the crime.
I'm beginning to understand the influence her presence has over his every decision. I need any advantage I can find to stop the truth coming out again. When he threatened to kill Beth the first time, I confessed, I couldn't tell if he was bluffing his violence. Now I'm convinced he might have been misleading me the entire time.
If I'm right, it means Zach hasn't paid this man to murder me after all but merely to extract a confession. Of course, my ex would want me to suffer in the most undignified way possible. Death is much easier to handle than having the world know the truth.
As hard as it is pushing a man close to breaking point while he wields a large hunting knife near your throat, I remind my brain the consequences of the Internet learning my dark secrets. I don't want to be remembered as the evil woman who accidentally shot a child, even if that's what I deserve. I'm not that person.
"Wow," Beth says as she steps toward me from the kitchen. We're alone and could make a run for it at any time, but fear holds us in place. She grabs the interrogation chair the man was using from the floor and places it upright a comfortable distance from me.
Before she wanders back to the kitchen, I grab her attention. "I'm sorry you've had to hear these things about me."
An audible sigh erupts from Beth's mouth. She shakes her head at me and takes a seat with bound arms. "I don't want to hear any excuses or justifications. We simply need to escape this situation and that's all. As soon as we're safe, I'm leaving."
I understand and can't argue against her decision. My eyes fall to the floor. "I don't know why I pushed him like I did before. I guess I do but it's so stupid. I should admit the truth and get this all over with."
Beth doesn't blink. Either she's had enough of me, or she doesn't want to become involved. I'm on my own.
From where I sit, I may only have one bold move left to play if Zach's man pushes me to my limit for a second time and it won't be easy. Still, I can't let the truth escape my lips again.
Beth smiles at me. It's not a happy face I'm seeing, but an expression laced in sarcasm. "I look forward to your next performance." She pushes herself up and walks to the kitchen, toward the broken cell phone.
"
Why are you so desperate to fix that thing?" I ask. "Are you just trying to save your own ass, or do you want me to pay for what I did?"
She stops, placing the back of her head to me. "Do you think I enjoy being here knowing what I know?" She turns around and faces me again, not looking me in the eye as she leans against the kitchen doorframe.
"I—"
"No," she says, cutting me off, "I don't. I hate to be studying this far from home, in this city, in this crap hole of a house with someone as disgusting as you. But here I am."
I shake my skull as tears threaten to drown my eyes. I wipe them clear before anything can develop. My head falls forward with the weight of Beth's words. I try to speak but nothing comes out. She fills the silence between us.
"This man though, that's another story. He clearly wants you to pay for all of this. I don't think he'll be happy until you admit to what you did on camera so he can show the entire world the truth."
I lift my head up to her eye line. "Why does the whole world have to know? Don't you think I've suffered enough already? You've seen this life I live. You've experienced three months of it. Imagine five years."
She doesn't change the look on her face and keeps her arms crossed. "Maybe you figure you've paid for your crimes, that this is all a big waste of time in the grand scheme of things, but Zach certainly isn't satisfied yet. And I doubt he'll stop anytime soon."
"No matter the cost to me?" I ask.
Beth chuckles.
"What does that mean?" I almost yell, forgetting that the man could hear this.
She holds up both of her palms to hush me a little. "Consider this, Marie: this guy is trying to extract a confession out of you while I'm still here as a witness. How long do you think he'll keep doing things that way before he finally snaps? You realize I'm all that stands between him and you."
"I know," I mutter. "I've known for a while. It just sounds more real coming from your mouth."
He’s At Your Door Page 11