“No, I should make sure everything is going to be okay with today. I’m still shaking a little from what happened.”
I thought about how close I came to killing Karlo. Why couldn’t I do it? “I know exactly what you mean.”
“So how much longer do you think you’ll be in here for?”
I shrug. “As long as it takes for me to be able to remember everything without wanting to die.”
He narrows his brows at me. “Are you having dark thoughts right now?”
I shut my eyes, squeezing them tight. “Yes.” I open my eyes again and glance away from his gaze. “How could I not? After today I’m more of a mess than I was before. I might be in here forever.”
James breathes out loud and shakes his head.
“My idea of running away was stupid. Maybe therapy is the only way to move on.”
“It is.” I slide my hand across the table and place it on top of his. “And it won’t be easy. I’m not looking forward to the next session with Doctor Shaw.”
James’s eyes are glued to the table. I’m not sure if he is even listening to me. I can’t blame him. After a long moment, his eyes flick to mine.
“I guess you’ll just have to bite the bullet, so to speak.”
I stumble in my chair, feeling as if I’m going to fall out of it. “What did you say?” His words rattle around in my brain. Bite the bullet.
James looks at me, puzzled for a moment, but then his eyes focus in on me like a laser. “Nothing. Just a stupid phrase. Hang in there, Emma.”
I attempt to think for a second. Maybe he accidentally used the same expression Karlo had before he killed Darren. It is a common enough thing to say, right? I need time to think straight, so I try my best to get out of there.
“I’m exhausted. I might head to bed early,” I say.
“What about your dinner?”
“Not hungry,” I blurt as I stand. “Lost my appetite after today.”
“Fair enough. Say, why don’t I escort you to your room so I can give you a proper goodbye. I don’t like doing it in front of these people.” James looks at one of the patients with a sneer.
“Okay,” I manage to get out. What else am I supposed to say? I have no idea if what I suspect is true. How could it be? Why would James be helping me as he has?
My mind runs into overdrive while we walk back. My brother stays close. I try to piece it all together, but there are so many questions that need answering. Why would he show up now, after so long? Why did he want to find Karlo and then kill him?
The next question my brain asks itself drains my blood into my feet. Where did James get his money from? I never thought to ask what line of work he was currently in.
He strolls casually beside me and smiles. “What would you like to do tomorrow, Sis?” he asks. His voice sounds different. A hint of sarcasm has replaced the care and understanding. He’s never called me sis in my life.
“We can do anything you’d like to do. The day is yours,” he adds.
“I might stay here. I’m feeling quite run-down after everything. You understand, right?”
“Oh, I do.”
We pass an orderly, and I try to give him a look that I hope will grab his attention. The man ignores me, like they mostly do. It wouldn’t be too unusual for the staff to witness all kinds of weird faces.
The orderly turns away and heads in the opposite direction from us. We are completely alone in the last stretch to my room. What I wouldn’t give to see Tom poke his ugly head around the corner and hit on me.
“Here we are,” I say, doing my best to hide my concern. Do I really think James is the one? Karlo harassed our family, but the man I saw in the motel didn’t seem like a cold-blooded killer. Now that I think about it, he probably only admitted to killing Darren because I had a gun to his face, along with two crazy eyes. He would have confessed to anything hoping the threat would stop.
“Well, bye,” I say.
“Hold up a minute,” James says. “Let me see your room. I want to make sure these people are taking proper care of my sister.”
I close my eyes for a moment. His request sounds plausible, but the voice in the back of my head is screaming at me to run. My legs fail to act. The next thing I realize, I am walking into my room. James follows and shuts the door behind him.
“That’s supposed to stay open.”
“It’ll only be closed for a minute. Give us some privacy.”
“Okay. So, this is my room. Not much to it,” I say as I sit on the bed.
“No, there isn’t. I gotta say, Emma, this place is a real shit-hole.”
I suddenly get the urge to defend the hospital but resist. “It’s not the best place in the world.”
“You really should come with me. It’s not too late to change your mind. I can take care of you now. You don’t have to be the one to take care of me anymore.”
James is talking about more than the present moment; he must be. The next words out of my mouth could be my last. I either play along or accept my fate.
“Okay. I should go with you. You should be the one to take care of me.”
“That’s right. I’m the older brother. It’s time you acted like a younger sister and accepted your place.”
I fight the urge to tell him he is only older by a few minutes, but I can see in his eyes he is about to say something far worse.
“I didn’t want things to reach this point, Emma, but what choice did I have? You forced my hand.”
His words are like daggers through my heart as everything comes together: James was the man in the mask. He took our money and our house. He stalked our family and covered it up with Karlo and Victor. He killed Darren. What I don’t understand is why.
Tears fall down my cheeks as I cringe away from him. I can’t play along with his twisted fantasy anymore.
“Emma, Emma, Emma,” he says. “It had to be done.”
“Why?” I let out. “He was your brother-in-law.”
“And he was a decent man to you. Maybe not to the rest of the world, but to you, he was everything.”
“Yes, and you killed him.”
“I didn’t kill him, Emma. You did. You made this all happen when you tried to give me half of Dad’s money. You thought you could buy my respect and control me like a dog, didn’t you?”
“No, I—”
“Don’t lie to me!” he yells at me. He comes close to my bed and stands over me. “One more piece of deceit from you and I’ll gut you.” He produces a knife from his pocket and grabs my chin.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a squeak.
He lets go and steps one pace back.
“James, please.”
“What? Are you going to beg for me not to do this? Should I hand myself in to the cops? Not likely. Soon I’ll have a million dollars sitting in offshore accounts thanks to you and your idiot husband. The way I see it, you still owe me. Dad’s money should have been mine from the start for putting up with him for all those years. Instead, it went to you and your simpleton husband’s business.”
“It’s yours now. Just let me go. I’ll never bother you again.”
“No, Emma. You need me. Your life is over. You even tried to end it. You will be dependent on me from here on out.”
I lower my head with defeat. He closes in, leaning over me with the knife still out. I stare up into his eyes and submit. It’s the only move I have left.
“I need you, James. Now and forever.”
He leans down and kisses me slowly on the forehead.
A tear rolls down my cheek and catches his attention. He comes nearer to my face and dominates me with his steely gaze. “You are mine, understand? I own you.”
I shove the scissors I’m clutching in my fingers into the side of his throat with every piece of energy I can muster. In his arrogance, he didn’t notice me fishing them out. It never occurred to him that I would have a way to defend myself. I twist the metal into his jugular and push him away from me. The knife in his hand
falls away as he tries to claw at his neck, but I refuse to stop pressing down until the floor runs thick with his blood.
“You don’t own me. No one does. No one ever will.”
He gurgles his last breath and gives up the fight. Both of his eyes are wide open and frozen in time.
I finally let go.
Fifty-One
Over the next day, I help the police locate Karlo’s body, and the weapon used to kill him. Security footage at the motel shows me and James fleeing the scene. The forensic team also finds blood on James’s clothing that belongs to Karlo. I tell them he forced me to go along to cover up the first crime he committed: killing Darren.
The police are skeptical at first, but after a week the investigators understand everything that happened, including the sudden and illegal transfer of our house into James’s name.
With me locked away in the hospital and Frank staying with Darren’s sister, James planned on eventually selling the house anonymously and wiring the money to some offshore bank accounts he had set up. The police also found what was left of the two hundred thousand dollars in cash at an apartment he was renting nearby. He had spent most of it already to give himself the appearance of success. I would have been none the wiser that the money he was about to come into was stolen from my family.
A day later, the lead detectives told me I had been cleared of any wrongdoing, ruling what I did to James as self-defense. It’s a hollow feeling that changes nothing, but I’m glad no one thinks I killed my brother for no reason.
A few months go by at the hospital. I make excellent progress according to Doctor Shaw, and I’m finally at the point when I am ready to receive a visitor again. There is only one person I want to see more than anyone else in the world, and I am terrified of how he will respond.
Frank doesn’t seem himself when he walks into the room. He appears older somehow, as if that night aged him by two or three years. He steps up to my table beside Doctor Shaw. He is clutching at his elbows with both hands as he tries to avoid looking at the other patients.
A wave of shame washes over me. How could I let them bring him here? A shudder sinks me down into my seat, closing my eyes for a few seconds. I shove the thought aside and try to focus on the positives, the way Doctor Shaw taught me.
Frank sits down and avoids my gaze for what feels like an eternity. I don’t know if I should speak first. What are you supposed to say in a situation like this? No combination of words can bring his father back.
I take a deep breath and draw some courage from nowhere to speak. “Frank, you don’t have to see me. You can leave right now, and I will never hold it against you—ever. I understand that you hate me more than anyone else in the world, and I want you to know it’s okay with me. I’m just happy knowing you are safe.”
Frank continues to stare at the table. I go to speak again, but he cuts me off with a shake of his head.
He stands from the chair and walks around by my side. Before I can work out if he is going to leave, he wraps his arms around me, kneeling down to squeeze tight.
“I’m sorry about Dad,” Franks says. “I’m sorry Uncle James made you do that. I’m sorry about everything.”
I cry. It all comes out in a nonstop mess. Darren and James fill my thoughts, pulling me down into a dark spiral until Frank’s hug takes over and heals me more than months of therapy ever could.
“Mom?” he asks.
I pull back and stare him in the eyes with the best grin I can summon. I can’t speak.
“Everything is going to be okay, Mom. You’re going to get out of here, and we are going to start over.”
I draw Frank back in for another hug and whisper into his ear, “Thank you.”
“I’m here for you, Mom.”
“I’m here for you too.”
We comfort each other while Doctor Shaw smiles down at us with that face she gave me the day we met.
For the first time since I arrived at the Hopevale Psychiatric Hospital, I can see a future where I exist.
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About the Author
I am a thirty-two-year-old psychological thriller author from a quiet country town outside of Melbourne, Australia. I currently work full-time for a small business and write in the early hours of the morning between 5 am - 7 am before my daughter and wife wake up.
I am an avid reader of all genres, but I love psychological thrillers more than anything else. I also have a passion for good storytelling in all forms of media such as addictive TV shows and movies.
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Don't Let Me Die: A gripping psychological thriller Page 20