Love you to Death

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Trent’s air supply was gone, but at least he knew which way was up as he followed those bubbles.

  The headlights were still on, gleaming through the murky water. The beams landed on a bright green Volvo with smashed windows—Ashley’s car.

  He hoped that meant she was nearby, and that Elise was, too.

  His head broke through to the air, and he sucked in huge gulps of oxygen. He treaded water, but every kick burned his thigh, every stroke made his ribs throb in protest.

  He wasn’t going to be able to keep his head above water for long with his wet clothes and shoes bogging him down. He had to get to shore and hope that the killer with the gun hadn’t noticed he was still alive.

  Trent headed for the dock. It was closest and would provide cover from any stray bullets headed his way.

  He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious—how long Elise had been on her own with the killer. Had he had time to hurt her? Was Trent already too late? The idea that he’d find Elise hacked into pieces the way those other women had been made him want to scream in rage and denial. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to hurry, but his limbs were sluggish with cold and blood loss. The gaping holes in his body weren’t doing him a hell of a lot of good either. He was going to have to stop the bleeding soon, or he’d end up being no good to anyone.

  As he swam, no bullets flew past him, nor did he see anyone at the edge of the lake. The moon overhead was bright enough to see by, now that his eyes had adjusted.

  He made it to the dock and clung to one of the wooden supports while he gasped for breath. Getting up onto land was going to be a bitch, but he didn’t have any options. And every second he rested was one more second Elise was in jeopardy.

  Trent reached up, gripped the end plank, and used what was left of his strength to haul himself up and over the edge.

  Pain roared through his abdomen at the motion. Something was definitely not good somewhere inside his gut. He lay on the deck, bleeding and panting as the wave of pain passed over him, leaving him weak and shaking.

  After what seemed way too long, the pain faded enough for him to move. He lifted his soggy shirt, looked down at the bullet hole and saw a slow stream of blood seeping out. A quick swipe over his back told him there was no exit wound, so the bullet was still in there somewhere.

  Lovely.

  The hole in his thigh was more ragged and bled a lot more, but it had gone through part of the muscle and out the other side. Ugly and painful as hell, but not that serious. He hoped.

  Heedless of whatever muck he’d picked up in the lake, Trent ripped his shirt in half, tied part of it around his thigh to slow the bleeding, and the other half he tied around his waist in the hopes it would keep the bullet from moving around in his abdomen and doing any more damage.

  By the time he was done, he was weak and nauseated from the pain, but at least he’d done what little damage control he could.

  Now, it was time to find Elise before it was too late.

  He pushed himself to his feet and scanned the area. There were no signs of life, no movement nearby. The only thing he could see was the wavering light of a yellow bulb obscured by the trees.

  He wasn’t sure if Elise had gone toward that light, but he didn’t have a whole lot to go on here. If she wasn’t there, maybe there’d at least be a phone he could use to call for help.

  Right now, in the shape he was in, it was his best bet.

  With slow, shambling steps, he moved over the dusty ground, leaving a visible trail of water and blood behind him.

  Elise didn’t want to open her eyes. She knew monsters waited out there beyond the calming blackness of sleep.

  Her head pounded, and her ribs ached like she’d taken a beating. Her wrist felt like it was on fire, consumed by a searing, stinging pain.

  It was all the pain that told her she was still alive, she wasn’t dreaming, and that everything she remembered was real.

  Trent was dead.

  I love you.

  He was gone forever. He loved her, and now he was gone.

  How could he have loved her? How could he love someone who failed so utterly?

  She’d failed to find a way to save him. She’d failed to keep Ashley safe. She’d failed to find her when she went missing, and now she was going to fail again.

  The man who’d killed Trent was going to kill her, too.

  Elise wondered if she’d see Trent again after she died. And if she did, would he forgive her for not finding a way to save him?

  She had no answers, only a bleak sense of helplessness and the sure knowledge that all her chances to redeem herself were now gone.

  “Please, wake up,” came Ashley’s frightened voice.

  Elise’s eyes snapped open and light drilled into her brain, making her hiss in pain. She raised her hand to shield her eyes. “Ashley?”

  “I’m here,” said her sister. She was close.

  Maybe Elise was already dead. But if so, why did she hurt so much?

  Elise forced herself to open her eyes and accept the pain the light caused. At first, everything was a brilliant, searing halo, but slowly, things started to come into focus.

  She was in a hotel room—a dank, oppressive hotel room. Everything was bland, lifeless beige. She was on a bed, leaving smears of drying blood on the beige bedspread. There were no windows, only the noxious fluorescent lighting overhead.

  Ashley was beside her, sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked pale, gaunt. Haunted.

  Dark smudges of fatigue made her green eyes glow fever bright. Her long hair fell lank and dull around her too-thin face. Worry had edged deep lines around her mouth and between her brows.

  The last week had aged Ashley at least ten years.

  Even though her ribs protested the movement, Elise pushed herself up and hugged her sister. Her thin body felt good in Elise’s arms—something real and solid to latch onto.

  Ashley began to shake. Her weak arms tightened, and a nearly silent sob burst violently from her body, like she’d been holding it in for years.

  “I’m sorry,” cried Ashley. “I’m so sorry he found you. I didn’t want to be alone. I kept wishing you were here, and now you are, and I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh.” Elise stroked her hand over Ashley’s hair, trying to soothe her. Either she wasn’t making much sense, or Elise’s brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. Either way, she needed to take stock in their situation and figure out how the heck they were going to get out of it. “It’s okay. Now that I’m here, we’re going to get out of this place together.”

  “You don’t understand. I tried. We all tried. It won’t work. There is no way out.”

  Elise pulled back and cupped her sister’s face in her hands. Tears flowed over her fingers, leaving streaks in the dried blood on Elise’s hands. “Yes, there is. But you need to get ahold of yourself and answer my questions, okay? We may not have much time.”

  “He said he was coming back for me as soon as you woke up.” She swallowed hard. Her eyes closed, wringing tears of defeat from them, and she whispered, “He painted my fingernails.”

  Elise wasn’t sure why that upset Ashley so much, but clearly it meant something more. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Not yet. He will, though. When he comes back, he’s going to take me to that room and strap me down. And then he’s going to cut off my hand.” A sob shook her body before she controlled it. “He’s going to make you watch, Elise.”

  Elise’s stomach heaved at the thought. She didn’t know what kind of torture her sister had endured this past week, but whatever it was, the effects of it were glowing in her eyes, haunting her features with pain.

  “No. That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”

  “You can’t stop him. He’s too strong. I tried, and he killed her. He burned her while I watched… Oh, God.” Ashley pushed away and curled into a ball. She rocked on her side, gritting her teeth and making a horrible, high-pitched noise of torment.

  Elise wat
ched her sister, too shocked to think. She’d seen Ashley upset, seen her mad enough to break dishes and sling paint across the room. She’d seen her cry like her heart was broken when some high school kid broke up with her. But she’d never seen anything like this—never seen this soul-deep anguish, never heard that wounded animal noise being wrenched from her chest.

  The man who’d taken them had broken Ashley, killed Trent, and Elise was going to make him pay.

  She moved from the bed to search the room for a means of escape. The door was locked and made of metal. There was no window to break, and the hinges were on the outside. The only weakness she could see was the knob. Maybe she could break it off and unlock the door that way.

  Her body was sluggish and every movement hurt her ribs. Maybe he’d kicked her after she’d gone unconscious like he had Trent; maybe he’d broken one.

  Trent.

  I love you.

  She couldn’t go there. She couldn’t think about that right now and still function. If she stopped long enough to let those thoughts invade her head, she’d be curled into a ball and rocking the way her sister was.

  She had to stay strong, so she shoved him out of her mind and focused on the task at hand.

  She needed something hard, something she could use as leverage or something heavy enough to smash metal and break it.

  There was a chair, but it was mostly plastic and not heavy enough to do any damage. The small round table, though, that might be solid enough to do some good.

  Elise tipped it over and picked it up by the base. Her ribs felt like they were on fire, but she ignored them. She lifted the table as high as she could and slammed it down hard on the doorknob.

  The noise was deafening in the insulated quiet of the room. Vibrations from the impact numbed her arms.

  The doorknob remained solid and undamaged.

  “I told you,” said Ashley. “There’s no way out.”

  “There’s always a way out. We just have to find it.” Before the killer came back.

  “Gary will be here soon. He probably heard the noise and knows you’re awake.”

  Gary? The killer’s name was Gary? “What’s his last name?”

  “I don’t know. I just met him at the bar. He was… nice. He bought me drinks.” She sucked in a breath that shook with self-loathing. “How long have I been here?”

  “A week.”

  “Only a week? It seemed so much longer.”

  “It’s almost over now, Ashley. I promise.” Maybe it was an empty promise, but one she was willing to make all the same. “I need you to be sharp, okay? We might find an opening when he comes back, and if you get one, run. Don’t wait for me.”

  “I can’t leave you here with him.”

  “You run and get help. I mean it.”

  “I don’t even know where I am.”

  “Just find a road and flag down whoever you can.”

  Ashley covered her ears and started rocking again. “Stop talking like this. It won’t work. We’re going to die in here.”

  Elise wished she had the time to be gentle, but that wasn’t a luxury either of them could afford. She knelt on the bed, grabbed Ashley’s shoulders, sat her up, and gave her a hard shake. “Pull yourself together,” she ordered. “We are going to get out of here.”

  “That’s what I told Constance. She knew the truth, but I didn’t believe her. I told her we’d find a way out. I told her everything would be okay, but it wasn’t. He hurt her. He cut off her hands. He made me watch. He made both of us watch.”

  “That’s all over now.” It was a lie, but one Elise had to tell. If they got out of this, the nightmare wasn’t going to be over for Ashley for a long time. Maybe never.

  “This is what I get for not listening to Constance. My punishment. I should have listened. I should have killed her sooner.”

  Ashley killed her? That didn’t seem possible. It had to have been a trick Gary played on her to torture her more. “You didn’t kill anyone.”

  “I did.” She reached out and grabbed Elise’s arm. Her fingers grazed the deep gashes the cuffs had left on Elise’s wrist, making pain streak up her arms.

  The fear in Ashley’s eyes was desperate, pleading. “Listen to me. Don’t make me wait, don’t make me suffer like I made Constance suffer. Kill me. Give me the whole bottle of pills so I don’t have to watch him take my other hand. Promise me.”

  Elise had an idea of what Ashley meant, but she refused to even consider killing her sister. “Stop talking like that. As soon as he comes back, I’m going to fight him. I’m going to bash his head in with that table and it will all be over. We’re going to get out of here.”

  “I should have listened to Constance. I should have believed her. I’m so sorry.”

  “Constance is dead. We’re not. I need you, Ashley. Don’t give up on me. I can get us out.”

  Ashley shook her head as tears slid down her gaunt cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Gary was going to have two black eyes come tomorrow morning. By Monday, he was going to have to figure out a colorful story to tell his coworkers so they wouldn’t get suspicious.

  His nose had finally stopped bleeding, and he’d put on a clean set of scrubs.

  Finally, after all the waiting, he had both sisters in residence, and he wanted to do this right. Take his time. Savor it.

  The look of horror on Ashley’s face when he’d dumped Elise in her room had been one he wouldn’t soon forget.

  Maybe he should start carrying a camera. He enjoyed watching his recordings over and over, but there wasn’t always time to set up a video camera to capture a moment. A camera made much more sense.

  He slipped on a pair of canvas shoes that he’d washed since he’d dumped Constance’s body. The bloodstains hadn’t all come out, but he didn’t mind. He was just going to have to bleach them again tonight anyway, after he was done with Ashley.

  Gary headed back to the kitchen to sterilize the instruments he was going to need tonight. The routine was soothing, reassuring in its monotony.

  He left the tools to boil and headed downstairs to check on the girls. Neither of them were as docile as he liked, but he didn’t mind a bit of a challenge. They were going to be worth it.

  He made sure his pistol was ready to fire and unlocked the door. He didn’t trust them not to fight back, but he knew how to use one of them against the other. He was in control here, and it wouldn’t take them long to figure that out.

  Gary pushed the door open. A chair flew through the opening, nearly smashing into his head.

  “Nice try,” he said, “but you’re wasting our time.”

  He peered into the room. The lights were off. He couldn’t see much beyond the doorway.

  Two could play that game.

  He flipped off the hall lights, casting them all into darkness. He waited for a few seconds while his eyes adjusted. It didn’t do much good—there was no natural source of light down here.

  Slowly, he moved forward. “I’m armed. I suggest you be careful what you throw, or one of you might end up with a hole in her pretty head.”

  Neither woman spoke. He could hear their frightened breathing sawing in and out of their lungs, but it was hard to tell exactly where it was coming from.

  He stepped forward, feeling his way through the doorway. His foot kicked something light that made a dry sound, like wadded-up paper.

  Too late, Gary realized he’d just stepped into a trap. The sound had told them where he was.

  Something hard and heavy slammed into his stomach. It crushed the air out of his lungs.

  Rage at his own incompetence burst behind his eyes, making his head throb. These women were going to pay for that.

  He ignored the pain and shot forward, groping blindly for one of the women. His hand brushed something soft, and a startled cry of fear spilled out, telling him where to aim.

  He reached out, caught a fistful of hair and jerked it back toward his body. The woman stumble
d into him, knocking him off balance. It took him a second to regain his footing and wrap his arm around a slender throat, cutting off a sobbing scream of terror.

  “I’ve got a gun to her head,” he called out into the darkness.

  The scrambling sound of movement he’d heard a moment ago went still. A soft click sounded from across the room, followed by a blinding light cascading from the bathroom.

  Elise stood there, bathed in a halo of light, her face twisted in a snarl, looking like an avenging angel. Beautiful.

  Gary adjusted his weapon so it was aligned with Ashley’s temple. “I will kill her just to teach you a lesson,” he said to Elise. “If you don’t believe me, ask Ashley about Gloria.”

  A beautiful, wounded sound rose up out of Ashley at the reminder.

  Gary’s cock stirred to life.

  Elise lifted her hands in surrender.

  “Good. Now, walk out that door and down the hall.”

  “No,” sobbed Ashley. “No, no, no.”

  “Do it.”

  Elise looked at her sister, then back at Gary. “You’re going to kill us both. A bullet to the head is a much nicer way to die than what you’ve got in mind.”

  Gary lowered the gun until it was aligned with Ashley’s intestines. “A gut shot isn’t. Care to test me and see if I’ll do it? It will take her days to die. She’ll be in horrible pain, and I’ll make you watch every minute of it.”

  Elise swallowed visibly. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she was shaking with anger. “Take me. Let her go and take me instead.”

  “What possible reason could I have to do that?”

  “If you do, I promise to cooperate. Do whatever you like. I’ll be docile, I’ll scream and fight—whatever gets you off. Just let her go.”

  Gary found himself actually considering it. Wendy had always been willing to play his games. She’d always been selfless, just like Elise was being right now.

  Maybe that’s what he’d been missing all these years. He’d been searching for the perfect woman—one who could make him feel the way Wendy did—but he’d been going about it all wrong.

  He couldn’t force a woman to be what he needed. She had to do it of her own free will.