by Cynthia Eden
“He’s looking after himself,” Victor surmised. “This is the point where you have to do the same thing. You have to watch your own ass.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready to talk to me? To really tell me all you know about Quincy Atkins and Ethan Barclay?”
Hell, no, she wasn’t. Her temples were pounding, and she was worried about Ethan. “How did Keith get in my apartment?” She wanted to shrug off his hand, but forced herself to stay still. He thinks he’s helping me. He was wrong, though. The one who could help her?
Ethan.
But he’s vanished.
No, it just wasn’t right. Ethan wouldn’t leave her.
Victor and Charles exchanged a long look.
“The guy doesn’t remember,” Victor said.
“The door was locked.” She remembered unlocking it. “He was at least ten feet from that door.”
“Uh, about Ethan…”
“I didn’t search the apartment,” she whispered as fear grew within her. “I didn’t even stop to think that Keith’s attacker could still be there! What if he was waiting for me to leave? What if he did something to Ethan?”
Charles looked doubtful. “It’s not easy to get the drop on Ethan Barclay.”
“And what would the attacker even do with his body?” Victor’s hand fell from her shoulder. “Sorry, look, I get that you’re trying to explain away his abandonment, but the guy vanished on his own free will. He wasn’t dragged off. He’s six foot two and close to two hundred pounds. It wouldn’t be easy to drag him any place.”
Her heart was racing fast. Too fast. Fear had a choking grasp on her. “It depends on where you’re dragging him.” Then she turned away from the FBI agents. She started walking down the hospital corridor. Then she started running.
They called after her. She didn’t stop.
Something had happened to Ethan. He hadn’t abandoned her. She wouldn’t believe that.
She’d always trusted him. She wouldn’t lose faith in him now.
***
He was tied up. Bound to a chair. The ropes cut into his arms and legs. Ethan slowly opened his eyes. His head hurt like a bitch, throbbing constantly—because some SOB had hit him over the head. He’d been trying to help that freaking shrink, and he’d heard the creak of the floor too late.
By the time Ethan had tried to turn, it had been too late.
Now he was in darkness. Total freaking darkness. But he could feel the ropes and as he flexed his hands, testing those bounds, Ethan also heard…
Someone else breathing.
“Did you think I’d let you walk away?” That voice was low. Taunting.
The lights flashed on. Too bright, blinding Ethan for an instant. He blinked frantically, and then he found himself staring at a familiar face.
A face he’d pounded before.
And Carly said I shouldn’t have attacked the SOB.
He yanked on the ropes.
“I know how it ended, you see. I knew all along, but I wanted a confession. I was sent a video—a video of you and Carly Shay killing my brother.”
Fuck. He’d thought he destroyed that evidence.
“What? No cry of surprise? Did you know that you’d been caught on the security feed at that warehouse so long ago?”
He’d known. Too late.
“Carly was the one tied in the chair, wasn’t she? You were on the floor. Bleeding. Dying. Carly screamed and begged. She promised Quincy anything if he would let you live…”
He jerked in the chair. It rocked forward, then backward on its legs.
“And then I learned that she was still hung up on you. After all these years, still involved with you. That’s when I knew the way to hurt her. Really gut her. ”
Fucking bastard.
“When you two ran out of Reflections together, after I saw—first-hand—just what it was like between you, I knew exactly how to punish dear Carly.”
“Your bomb didn’t fucking work! We got out!”
Curtis laughed. “I wanted you out. The bomb was meant to scare. To be a distraction, nothing more. The fact that your business burned to the ground? That was pure bonus.” His laughter faded. “But I saw the way you two were together, and I knew just what I had to do.”
“What you had to do?” Ethan muttered. “Was it talk me to death?’
“The way to really break her…” Curtis smiled at Ethan. “The way to break her…is by breaking you.”
Ethan just stared back at the bastard. “I’m not easy to break. Kind of a been there, done that with me. But, hey, you’re obviously feeling all bat-shit crazy, so give it your best shot.”
The guy’s smile dimmed.
Ethan glanced around as he tried to assess his escape option. There wasn’t a whole lot of furniture in the room. Just the chair he was tied to and some kind of instrument tray to the side. He could see the gleam of metal over there. A scalpel. And some other rather twisted looking utensils.
Plastic had been taped down on the floor around him. And more plastic covered the walls. Ethan whistled. “Did your big brother teach you how to set up a kill scene like this one?” The better to avoid the problem of blood spatter once the victims started that pesky bleeding and dying.
“I taught him,” Curtis barked. “Quincy was an idiot. I was—”
“The brains.” Like he hadn’t heard others claim similar over the years. “Whatever, I don’t—”
Curtis yanked a scalpel from that exam tray. He leaned close to Ethan. “I made those girls vanish.”
Ethan frowned at him. “Girls?”
“Quincy fucked them, but then he gave them to me. I got to cut them open. I got to see all of them.”
He was seeing a seriously deranged fuck. “And you made it as a doctor?” A trauma surgeon. A guy who sliced for his living had also cut for his pleasure.
“Why do you think I became a doctor?” Curtis had that sick grin back in place. “I do enjoy my work.”
Ethan was still tugging at the ropes. He’d get out, sooner or later. He was just hoping for sooner. Before Curtis fucked him up too much. He already had enough scars without adding more to his body.
“But everything changed when Quincy vanished. I always suspected you were involved. And now, it’s judgment day. You die, you pay. And poor little Carly will get the news that you’ve vanished completely.” Curtis laughed again, the sound high and bitter. “Do you think she’ll believe you just deserted her? Probably, at first. But later, when I’m ready for her to really suffer…maybe I’ll send her a few pieces of you that I keep.”
“And people think I’m the psycho,” Ethan said, whistling.
“He was my brother!”
“Like I give a shit. He was a twisted, murdering prick, and he got exactly what he deserved.” Ethan wasn’t about to show fear. He didn’t feel any. He did feel pissed. “And you’re going to get what you deserve, too.” His voice was low, lethal. Promising. “Unless you kill me outright, I’ll get free. I’ll take that scalpel that you’re holding in your hand, and I’ll use it to cut your throat. You’ll be bleeding and choking and I’ll just watch you die.”
Curtis had frozen. “You think you can manipulate me,” he finally murmured. “You’re trying to make me kill you quickly so that you won’t suffer, but it won’t work that way. You will suffer. You will beg. And there will be no mercy.”
Ethan couldn’t shrug because of the way he was tied to the chair. “Keep thinking that, if you want. The truth is, I just told you what’s going to happen in this room.”
Curtis hesitated. For an instant, fear flashed on his face. The guy was used to giving out pain, but he didn’t seem to like the idea of being on the receiving end of that scalpel.
“The bomb you set,” Ethan said. “It could have killed Carly.” The guy said he’d meant for them to get out—Ethan didn’t know if he believed that bull. He thought Curtis would’ve been plenty happy if they’d been blown to hell. “Here’s the thing…” Ethan lowered his voice.
&n
bsp; Curtis stepped forward.
That’s right, bastard, come closer.
“You aren’t the first SOB to tie me up and try to torture me. My own brother did that shit to me.”
Fascination. That was what he saw in Curtis’s eyes. The man crept forward a little more. The scalpel lowered in his hand.
“I heard a story about that…” Curtis’s gaze darted to the scars on Ethan’s cheeks. “But he didn’t cut you deep enough.”
“Not on my face, he didn’t,” Ethan agreed. “But I’ve got more scars. Deep wounds.”
Curtis came forward more. So close now…
Too close…
“Show me,” Curtis said. His eyes were eager.
I’ll fucking show you plenty.
Ethan slammed his head into Curtis’s face and heard the crunch of cartilage as the man’s nose broke. Curtis screamed and fell back as blood gushed down his face.
***
“The crime scene team is still here!” Charles said as he followed right behind Carly. They were back at the brownstone, and, yes, the guy was right. Crime techs were in her place. So was a nice, big yellow line of police tape, barring her door. “Ethan is not in there!” Charles told her.
No, not in my home but—
She stopped in the hallway. “Did you hear that?” Slowly, she turned away from her door. In that one instant, she’d heard…
Charles eyed her as if she were mentally unstable.
“I heard someone scream,” Carly said definitely. She was sure of it. Carly pointed to the door right across the hall from her place. “My neighbor Katherine is in Europe for the next month. Ethan owns this building, so that means he owns her space.”
“Uh, yeah, what does that have to do with—”
“No one should be in there right now.” She rushed to that apartment and twisted the doorknob. It was locked so she started pounding on the door.
Charles grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “What are you doing?”
“I heard a scream come from that apartment.” Now there was only silence.
Charles shook his head. “No, you didn’t, you—”
“Carly!”
That voice—that roar. It was Ethan’s voice. And Charles had just stiffened. He’d heard the sound, too. The roar had come from inside the apartment that should have been empty. She grabbed for the door knob again. Twisted it frantically and started pounding on the locked door. “Ethan, Ethan! I’m here! I’m coming to help you!” Behind her, she could hear Charles talking on his phone, asking for help at the scene. “Ethan!” She started kicking that damn door. She was getting in to him—one way or another.
***
The ropes were still too tight on him. That shit needed to give way soon because Curtis was back on his feet. Blood poured from his nose and the guy swiped it away.
“Look what the fuck you did!” Curtis raged.
Ethan smiled at him. “Going to do a whole lot more. I told you, I’m going to be the one standing soon and just watching you die.”
“Ethan!”
He stiffened at that cry. Carly. He’d heard her outside and he’d yelled for her, an instinctive thing. But now he wished that he’d kept quiet because a sinister smile had curled Curtis’s lips.
“Full circle,” Curtis whispered. He bent and picked up the scalpel he’d dropped. His blood spattered down on the plastic-covered floor.
Carly was pounding on the door. It sounded like she was trying to rip that door open. That was his Carly. So fierce and determined.
“Maybe it’s meant to be this way,” Curtis murmured, giving his head a rough shake. “It should end the same way, don’t you think?” Curtis asked him. The false veil of his sanity was gone, and Ethan knew he was seeing the real monster that the man had always been.
“I think you’re nuts!”
“Only Carly isn’t tied in the chair. You are.”
He wanted that rope gone.
“So when she gets in…and don’t worry, I’ll make sure she comes in…she’ll see you. Then she’ll be the one on the floor. She’ll be the one I torture and kick. My brother kicked you, didn’t he? I saw it on the video. He kicked you in your ribs and sweet Carly promised to do anything if he stopped hurting you.” More blood poured from his nose. “Will you promise anything for her?”
Carly can’t be alone out there. She has to have help. The FBI wouldn’t just let her rush out alone, not with all the shit that was happening. Would they?
Then Curtis turned away from him, and Ethan saw the gun that was tucked in the back of the man’s pants. “Get away!” Ethan bellowed, hoping she could hear him. “Carly, get away!” She couldn’t come in there.
Curtis carefully put the scalpel down on the instrument tray. And he took out his gun. “Let’s see if you’ll do anything…”
“No,” Ethan whispered. “Don’t.”
“Ready to beg?”
Ethan yanked at his ropes. He could feel blood on his wrists. He just yanked harder and the rope cut deeper into him. Harder…
He heard the front door burst in. “Carly, no, get back!” Ethan yelled. Please, baby, back. “He’s got a—”
Carly wasn’t the one who rushed into the room first. Charles was. And Charles was armed, too. But Charles had his gaze locked on Ethan and he didn’t even see Curtis because that tricky sonofabitch had moved into the corner of the room, behind Charles as the guy rushed to Ethan’s side.
“No, Charles! Gun, gun—”
The gun exploded. A bullet slammed into Charles, hitting him in the back. Ethan was staring right at the FBI agent when the bullet struck him. He saw the flare of Charles’s eyes. The shock and the pain that covered his face. Charles tried to whirl in order to confront his attacker, but Curtis was just laughing and stepping forward as he fired again.
A bullet sank into Charles’s shoulder.
The gun fell from the agent’s hand.
Curtis advanced one step more, his gun still aimed at Charles. “Not the way I usually like to kill, but—”
He didn’t get a chance to fire another shot at Charles because Carly had just slammed into his body. She hit him hard and they tumbled to the floor. This time, Curtis was the one to lose the gun and Carly attacked him with a wild fury. Punching and kicking and scratching.
“Charles, get the fuck up!” Ethan said, fear filling him—fear for Carly and Charles. Because Charles wasn’t moving now. He’d slumped on the floor, and Ethan was afraid that bullet to the back had hit the agent’s spine. No, no. “Charles!”
And then he heard the laughter. That damn mocking laughter from Curtis.
Curtis was bigger and stronger than Carly, and he had her pinned beneath him on the floor. “You should have never killed my brother,” Curtis said, panting as he fought to hold her. Carly was still fighting, hell, yes, she was. Ethan knew she would always keep fighting.
“Your brother is burning…in hell,” Carly threw back at him.
Curtis pulled back his fist, and it looked as if the bastard was about to slam that fist right into Carly’s face. That would be only the first of what he had planned for Carly.
“Don’t!” Ethan yelled.
Curtis smiled. “Got to promise me…anything. Got to beg. Like she did for you…”
The ropes gave way. Ethan leapt out of that chair. He grabbed the scalpel off the freaking weird-ass surgical tray and he said, “Carly, baby, close your eyes. Please…” Because if she didn’t, she’d see Ethan for who he truly was.
In the next second, he’d grabbed Curtis’s shoulder. He yanked the guy around, and Ethan sliced that scalpel across the man’s throat. He pushed as hard as he could when he made that slice, wanting that scalpel to cut deep. Carving into him.
A promise is a promise.
Blood sprayed at him and Curtis fell back, grabbing for his throat.
Ethan looked down at Carly. Her eyes were wide open, staring with horror and fear and disgust.
At me.
Curtis was making a chokin
g sound, still struggling, still bleeding, and Ethan glared down at him. “I killed your damn brother. I’m the one who shoved the knife all the way in his heart, and I’m also the one who just killed you.”
Then the cavalry arrived. More agents came rushing into the apartment. Victor was the first one leading the charge. “Hands up!” Victor yelled. “Up!”
Ethan lifted his hands. The scalpel fell to the floor.
“Sonofabitch,” Victor said, voice hushed. “Sonofabitch.” Then he shook his head. “Secure him!”
Ethan didn’t know if the agent wanted the gasping man on the ground secured—or me.
But Victor wasn’t even looking at him any longer. He’d rushed over to Charles. “Agent down!” Victor snarled into his phone. “I need an ambulance here, now. Now!”
Charles lifted his hand toward Victor. Victor caught his hand and held on tight. “You’re going to be all right. It’s okay.”
Two agents were on the floor, kneeling near Curtis. Another had helped Carly to her feet. Blood was on her shirt. Probably because she’d been so close when Ethan had attacked Curtis.
And a final FBI agent—well, he had his gun on Ethan.
“Will Charles make it?” Ethan asked quietly.
Victor swore. “He’s fine.”
So Victor was more of a liar than Ethan had thought…and he was also a man who was holding tight to another agent’s hand and assuring Charles that everything was going to be all right.
Ethan felt respect stir inside of him. Victor was better than he’d expected.
Carly stood there a moment, seemingly in shock as she looked at Ethan. Horror was still plain to see on her face. This whole scene—it was such a tangled flashback of their past. Only there wouldn’t be any chance of hiding the body this time.
No escape.
He’d attacked, and Ethan knew Curtis wouldn’t survive much longer. Not even with the agent trying to stop that blood flow.
Carly shook her head, hard, then she turned from Ethan. She hurried and bent near Charles, and she joined Victor in trying to stop his blood flow.
Ethan’s gaze slid back to Curtis. His eyes narrowed on the man.
After all, he had a promise to keep.