The Watcher

by Bella Jewel

  “He’s a murderer,” I say, trying to keep calm as I continue to study the room, searching for a way out.

  But I have to get past her first.

  I read a bit about deranged people after I was taken. I studied it. I wanted to understand how their minds worked, to a degree anyway. I wanted to know what made them tick. I often wondered if how I dealt with Clayton was the reason I got out. I saw the videos of the other girls. Some begged, some offered sexual favors, some just gave up, but I refused to break. Is that what saved me?

  Is that what will save me now?

  “He’s not a murderer!” she screams. “You are.”

  Wrong tactic.

  “We’re friends, Hannah. Did none of that mean anything to you?”

  She laughs. “You’re delusional if you think anything mattered. It was an act. All an act.”

  “It wasn’t for me,” I say gently. “You’re my best friend. I trust you. What we have, it matters to me. I’m sorry you feel your dad was taken from you, but you have to understand what he did was wrong, too.”

  He’s a murderer.

  A sick freak.

  But I know, deep down in her mind, she doesn’t believe that.

  I have to play the game. I have to get out of here.

  I won’t live through this again.

  “He didn’t do anything wrong!” she hisses, twitching. “He couldn’t help who he was.”

  “Neither can I.”

  Her eyes flash to mine.

  “I was afraid. I didn’t know that he, ah, was really a good person inside. I was just scared and had to get out. It was an accident really. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  The words feel like poison coming out of my mouth, they burn the same. Saying Clayton is a good person is like removing a tooth with a rusty instrument. But I’ll say and do whatever I have to to get out of here, to change her mind, hell, to distract her for a few seconds so I can escape.

  “You killed him. You drove a knife into his brain. You’re a monster. You acted out of evil. He acted because he had no other choice.”

  “There is always a choice, Hannah. He didn’t have to do that to those girls. He could have gotten help.”

  “You didn’t have to kill him,” she shrieks, pointing the gun at me. “You could have just done what he asked.”

  Let him scalp me?

  Plan B isn’t working so I change tack.

  “Where’s Kaitlyn?” I ask, diverting her attention to another subject.

  Hannah is trembling.

  She looks uneasy with the gun.

  Her delusion frightens me.

  It’s as if she’s an amateur. She’s trying to be something she was taught her whole life to be, but she isn’t doing a good job. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe her unease will be what helps us get out of here. As much as she wants to be, she’s not like Clayton. She doesn’t have the same cool, calm, and collected edge he had. Nothing bothered him. Nothing caused him to lose his focus. She’s different.

  “You’ll find out when I decide to begin my game.”

  “Haven’t you already been playing it?” I ask, staring at the front door.

  “You run,” she hisses, “I’ll shoot you, Marlie.”

  I swallow, take a shaky breath, and look back to her.

  “What if I don’t want to play your game?”

  She grins. It’s sick, just like his.

  “You simply don’t get a choice.”

  * * *

  Hannah is pacing, gun in her hand, mumbling to herself. She truly believes everything that psychotic man told her. While she paces, I look around for a way out. I could run, take the risk. She might hit me with that shotgun, but she might miss, too, if I move quickly, maybe zigzag. It’s worth the risk, right? If I sit here, God knows what she’s going to do to me.

  I think about being locked away with Clayton.

  I made a mistake, running into that closet.

  Now I have a chance to get away, to do this right. I’ve learned a lot since then. I’m afraid, but dammit, I’m stronger. Hannah is smaller than me, and albeit crazy, she’s still just a girl, and if there’s any hope of getting through to her, that’s the tool I can use. Emotions. Surely there has to be some in there, right?

  “Your boyfriend will be freaking out by now, I can just imagine how hard he’ll be taking it, not being able to chase after you,” she says, chuckling to herself.

  She’s smart, I’ll give her that much. Cutting Kenai out of the picture was a surefire way of making certain she could get to me. But why let me hire him in the first place?

  “If you wanted him out of the picture,” I say, deciding to keep her talking, “why did you push me to hire him in the first place?”

  “As a tribute to my father. You see, the man thought to have killed Kenai’s sister was someone my father hated, so he framed him. It was my father who killed the girl, taking her life and destroying an enemy in the process. It was quite genius, really. And equally genius of me to make him relive his sister’s death all over again when I kill you. Can you imagine how powerless he’ll feel? Blaming himself for allowing not just one, but two girls to be murdered on his watch. My father would be so proud.”

  I want to gauge her eyes out and shove them down her throat so she stops giggling.

  “And as a bonus, I got to watch you fight while you drove halfway across the country, you terrified, while I had your sister the whole time. It was entertaining. I won’t lie. Especially when I paid those men to taunt you at the club. You fell for everything, hook, line, and sinker. I wondered how long it would take you to figure out you were being duped. I can’t believe you made it all the way to Los Angeles before figuring it out. It’s sad, really. You both failed.”

  “I knew,” I mutter. “Deep in my gut. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

  “Maybe if you did, we wouldn’t be here. I guess my father taught you nothing.”

  “Unlike you. It looks like he taught you all of his secrets,” I say, hoping flattery gets her to lower her defenses. I take in the gun she’s holding.

  It’s a gun.

  Not easy to fire a shot quickly.

  If I lunge for it, she’d have a clear shot at me. It would be better to run. The second I got outside, I could run into the woods, zigzag through trees, and she’d not be able to catch me easily.

  It seems like the best option. The longer I stay here, the greater my chances of being killed.

  “It was all a lesson!” she barks. “All of it.”

  “Enlighten me, then,” I say, watching as she begins to pace again.

  I won’t get many more chances.

  The front door is about four feet away. Then I have to get it open.

  “He had a purpose,” she begins, and when she turns her back to the front door and starts pacing in the opposite direction, I make my move.

  I launch out of the chair and run towards the door. I hear her turn, scream at me, and then the gun goes off. A bullet whizzes right past my thigh and my heart leaps into my throat. I reach the front door and shove it open, throwing myself out and dropping low. As I surge forward, another bullet whizzes by, the crack of the shotgun filling the air.

  I tumble down the front steps, shove to my feet—pain and all—and I run. I zigzag as I do, praying it’s enough. I saw it on a self-defense show once. Hannah starts laughing hysterically, and for a moment, I wonder what the hell she’s laughing at. I don’t look back and check, I just keep running. I run past her car, wondering why she hasn’t shot at me again.

  Then I step into the woods and an explosion comes out of nowhere, throwing me backwards. I fly so far and hit the ground so hard, I hear my wrist snap on impact. My screams fill the woods as my face slides across the dirt, my body still travelling from the force of the explosion. My ribs scream in agony as my body twists in pain.

  Hannah’s laugh fills the air.

  Evil.

  Deranged.

  I underestimated her.

  She storms
over, and I want to get up and run, but I can’t. I can’t move. The pain in my wrist is like a fire has taken hold of my arm, I know I’ve broken at least three of my fingers, and my ribs feel like a hundred-pound weight is sitting on them. My body burns all over from the impact, and I can see blood trickling down my legs. Hannah reaches me, leans down, and curls her fist into my hair, screaming, “Get up. You stupid, foolish girl. Do you honestly think you can escape me?”

  She starts pulling, and my scalp burns as my hair starts to dislodge. Memories of Clayton fill my head, and for a moment my body goes numb. I’m forced to move as she pulls, to save my hair from being torn out. My body flails as I try to scurry across the dirt after her. She’s got a strong grip and she’s pulling with all her might.

  “The world thinks you’re the smart one, that you were cunning enough to get away from my dad.”

  Tears burn under my eyelids as she drags me to the front steps.

  “You’re not so smart now, are you, Marlie? This whole thing has been amazingly easy.”

  She giggles to herself as she jerks me up the stairs.

  “I thought you’d make this game fun for me, but Kaitlyn has made it more entertaining thus far.”

  I force my body up the stairs behind her. She kicks the front door open and my scalp feels like someone has poured acid over it, she’s pulling so hard. She drags me down the hall to a room that’s fully secured with a lockable pad on the outside. Just like his. She punches in a code, and then kicks the door open.

  It’s then that I see her.

  My sister.

  My baby sister.

  No.

  Kaity.

  No.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  KENAI

  I stand, ripping the drip from my arm. The nurse makes a frustrated sound and storms over. “Mr. Michelson, you can’t do that.”

  “Do you have a legal right to keep me here?” I snap.

  She crosses her arms. “No, but if you injure yourself…”

  “Then that’s on me.”

  She goes red in the face, but turns and disappears. I find my clothes and painfully jerk them on. My wound burns, but my heart, my fucking heart, is killing me. I need to get to her. Dammit. I should have known. I should have trusted my instincts but I didn’t. I let her go out there on her own. I let her go knowing there was danger lurking.

  I’ll never forgive myself for that.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Darcy mutters, appearing in my doorway.

  “Getting out. I’m not waiting any longer. I can help, Darcy, and you know it.”

  “You killing yourself on my watch isn’t something I’m willing to sign on to. Get back into bed, Kenai.”

  “I’ll fight you,” I growl. “Do you understand me? I will go down bleeding, but I will fight you, Darcy. I need to go to her. Not one single thing you say or do will stop me. So you can either help me or you can get the fuck out of my way.”

  He studies me. “Dammit. You’re serious.”

  “She’s my girl. Of course I’m fucking serious.”

  He sighs. “I’ll get you where you need to go, Kenai, but I’m telling you right now you’re not doing any physical stuff. I’ll let you help with tracking them down, but that’s it. If you can’t agree, I’ll leave your ass here and have an escort at your door to make sure you don’t get out.”

  I glare at him. He crosses his arms and stares at me. He’s not going to back down. Of course he isn’t.

  “Fine,” I grumble.

  “Right. I’ll go and talk to that poor flustered nurse while you think about every bit of information you know. Time is crucial. We can’t mess around with this. Those girls are in danger.”

  I know they are.

  And I’m terrified.

  MARLIE

  “Kaity,” I cry, dropping to my knees, ignoring the pain that travels through my body.

  My sister is almost lifeless on the ground. For a few agonizing seconds, I thought she was dead until I saw the faint rise and fall of her chest. My heart burns for her—it feels like a fist is closed around it and it’s being ripped out of my chest. Slowly. Her body is frail and weak, her hair is cut off in chunks. Only pieces of her beautiful red locks remain. She has bruises and cuts all over her body. Her hands are bloody. Her wrists are red raw. Her left leg is swollen.

  My poor sister has been tortured.

  I didn’t find her in time.

  I carefully lift her head with my good hand. My wrist feels like someone is hacking it off with a blunt instrument, and I’m panting and sweating in pain. My fingers are swollen up like balloons. I don’t care, though. This is my sister. My baby sister. She needs me. I’ll endure any pain in this world to make sure she gets out of here safely. She’s suffered enough because of my ordeal. I place her head in my lap and stroke a hand over her face. “Kaity, wake up. Please wake up and let me know it’s not too late.”

  She stirs and her eyelids flutter open. Bloodshot blue eyes stare up at me. “Marlie?” she croaks.

  “It’s me. I’m here. I’m so sorry Kaity. So sorry. I never should have let this happen. Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay.”

  “Everything hurts,” she whispers.

  “I know honey, I know it does. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise you.”

  “It’s H-H-H-H-Hannah.”

  “I know,” I say, stroking the chunks of hair away from her forehead. “I know sweetheart.”

  “She was my best friend,” she sobs, but no tears run down her face. “She was my best friend and I trusted her. It’s my fault. I should have never let her in. I should have known.”

  “There is no way you could have known, Kaity. None. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. She wants revenge, and she used you to get to me, but I promise you I’ll get us out of here.”

  She shakes her head and winces in pain. “She has everything covered. She’s going to end this, Marlie. For him. We’re not escaping. I’ve tried all of it. She has a plan for everything.”

  “Do not give up hope until you take your last breath, Kaity. There is always a way out. There is always a weakness. We just have to find it.”

  She shakes her head, but I press my hand to her forehead and gently stop her. “Trust me, I’ve been in this position. I know how terrifying it is, but I’m going to make sure we fight until there is no fight left. And Kenai won’t let anything happen to me, or you. He’ll be looking for us. We’re going to get out of here.”

  “Kenai Michaelson?” she whispers.

  “I hired him to help me find you. Hannah led me to believe you were involved with drugs and brought Kenai in so she could hurt him too. I’m so sorry. I should have known from the start.”

  “She’s smart,” she says hoarsely. “You would have never figured it out. She was my best friend and I had no idea.”

  The door alarm pings and both Kaity and I look over to see Hannah coming in with a bag in her hand. “Ah. I see we’ve had our reunion,” she sings, closing and locking the door behind her.

  Neither of us says anything.

  “It’s okay,” she continues. “You don’t have to speak. I’m going to do all of the talking anyway.”

  She walks over as if we’re having some sort of slumber party and sits cross-legged on the old bed. “So, you know my dad had a fetish for hair. It was his thing. He used to brush my hair for hours when I was a little girl. He told me I have the prettiest hair. I do, don’t you think?”

  We both stare at her.

  She giggles and continues.

  “Anyway, he wanted a collection. All the colors. Like a hairdresser, you know? It’s like, you can pick which color you want.”

  My stomach turns, but I don’t show any reaction.

  “Then you killed him,” she says, glaring at me. “And you ended his life before he could reach his goal. You ruined it for him.”

  “He ruined it for himself,” Kaity croaks. “He could have just taken a lock of hair. Instead he scalped and killed
them. He’s a murderer. A sick, dirty bastard.”

  I squeeze Kaity’s hand softly, to try to stop her from talking, but Hannah’s face has already turned an ugly shade of red. That would explain why Kaity is in such a bad way. She’s been stirring Hannah.

  “I’ll scalp you for no good reason, just for saying that,” Hannah yells, fists clenching.

  “You’ve already started it,” Kaity hisses. “Might as well finish it.”

  “Kaity,” I say, squeezing her again. “Don’t.”

  “Listen to your sister, Kaity,” Hannah says through clenched teeth. “She knows. She’s smarter than you.”

  Kaity closes her mouth, but the look on her face is murderous. There is also a hint of betrayal there. Maybe even a little hurt. I can’t say I blame her. I can only imagine the shock when she found out Hannah was the one behind all of this. It was hard enough for me, but Hannah was Kaity’s rock. She truly believed in her. She loved her. She trusted her.

  “Now, what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, was that I’m going to finish my father’s game. Finish his collection. Starting with you, Marlie. Considering you took it all from him, I need to make it the most painful for you. The most drawn out. I read all his notes. I know what has to be done. But first, we need to fix these poor, faded scalps and get them fixed up.”

  She lifts a bag off the floor and tosses it on the bed. The police were never able to find them, yet here they are. A pile of old, decayed scalps fly out, and vomit rises in my throat. I remember everything from my time with that monster as I study the faded, ratty locks of hair on the bed.

  Keep it together, Marlie. She wants to break you.

  He didn’t win. She won’t either.

  I take a shaky breath, steel my features and look up at her. “How pathetic. You can’t even get your own hair, so you have to reuse these old, dirty ones.”

  Hannah’s face flashes and she bares her teeth. “Don’t push me, Marlie.”

  I glare at her.

  “You and Kaity are going to wash, dry, and straighten these. Make them look good as new. Then you’re going to hang them over there.”