by Stella Noir
Suddenly, I feel anger instead of confusion and I realize that I need to be playing by Venetia’s rules if I have any hope of getting out of this apartment alive.
“Venetia,” I say calmly now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are we here, what is going on?”
She shoots me an incredulous, angry glare as if she can’t quite believe I still don’t get it, but my mind is completely lost in what’s going on. “Tell me,” I plead softly.
She sighs, and I can tell she’s pleased by the fact she’s got me in such a crunch. “I will,” she says. “You’re not getting out of this room either way,” she informs me, and my blood curdles in my veins with fear.
She moves away from Dylan, whose head again falls to the side as I look at him worriedly. “You see him, Lola?” Venetia asks me, pointing to her brother with her finger.
“I see you two looking at each other, even back when we were all teenagers. I knew even then you two were meant to be,” she says softly, as if reliving memories.
“I knew you would make it. What I didn’t expect was that you’d turn into such a cold hearted bitch,” she spits out her next words.
“What do you mean?” I demand to know, confused. “I never wanted to take Dylan from you. I thought you hated me!”
“At least you were right about one thing,” she smirks at me. “And not Dylan, you dumb bitch. Frank. You wanted Frank.”
It takes a moment for her words to register and then, reality hits me with full force – so hard, I nearly topple over the chair.
Frank, Dylan’s brother.
Venetia’s brother.
“Venetia,” I say with shock. “He was your step brother! He was your blood relative.”
She stares at me with hatred. “Don’t you think we knew that? Don’t you think we fought so hard to hide what we had because of that reason alone?”
In that moment, it all makes sense.
The diary I found in my parents attic.
The mystery man.
The girl she hated.
It was about us – me, Frank and Venetia. She was in love with her stepbrother, and she thought I was trying to take him away from her, when in reality, he tried to abuse me.
And now I’m almost certain he tried to do the same to her – she was only a few years older than me, and he was over thirty. What sane man would seduce an eighteen year old, and his stepsister at that?
“Venetia, please,” I say desperately, fighting hard to help her understand what is going on. “You have to understand I wanted nothing from him-”
Before I get a chance to finish, she grabs a kitchen rag from the counter and stuffs it in my mouth so I can only whimper.
There goes my chance of trying to explain things.
“That’s better,” she says with a content sigh, sitting down on the bar stool in the kitchen area as she looks at the two of us. Me, gagged and bound, and Dylan, whom she’s managed to beat within an inch of his life when he was out cold.
“Let me tell you a little story, Lola,” she says softly. “There was once a girl who went to her summer house every year. During the school year, she was mocked, made fun of and bullied every single day. She thought she would make friends in the summertime, perhaps hang out with her brother and his girlfriend.”
She gives me an icy stare before continuing.
“She was wrong. Her brother and girlfriend pushed her away, never allowing her to spend time with them, too wrapped up in each other. She never understood them, not until that last summer.”
“Then, the family had a guest. No one knew who he was, but he took a liking to the girl. He was older, tall, dark and handsome. He loved reading and wrote, too, once complimenting the girl’s writing, which meant the world to her. Very soon, those conversation turned into whispered confessions, and later, into forbidden kisses.”
She looks at the floor, as if she were embarrassed.
“They both knew it was wrong, yet they couldn’t resist. He told her he loved her, and for the first time, she understood the love her brother and his girlfriend shared. It would all be okay.”
But then her eyes burn with hatred, as she looks straight into my eyes before going on.
“Except the little girlfriend had her own idea of how things were supposed to happen. One night, the girl wanted to meet up with her man, but when she came to the pool house, where he was staying, she saw her brother’s girlfriend all over him.”
I whimper against the rag stuffed in my mouth, but she takes no notice.
She has this all so terribly wrong. That night, Frank tried to rape me. He tried to take everything I had and he would have succeeded if Dylan hadn’t stopped him. That must have happened minutes after Venetia saw us, yet she has no idea of what actually happened.
And since I’m gagged, I have no way of telling her.
I look at Dylan desperately, and notice he’s thankfully looking better. But he motions for me to look at Venetia with his eyes and I realize he wants her attention on me. I’m hoping he has an ace up his sleeve, because I’m feeling more scared than ever.
“The man told the other girl he only loved the first one, his true love. Yet the other girl wouldn’t accept this fact,” Venetia goes on, and now there’s a certain manic tone to her voice as she approaches me.
“Instead of going on her merry way, the girl convinced her boyfriend, the first girl’s brother, to kill the man. She told him some sob story, lied to him in order to get what she wanted.”
“And in the end, the boy did what he was told – he murdered the man, not knowing he was his own brother. He was taken away, and that day, our girl lost not only the love of her life, but her brother, too. All because of one stupid bitch, who was whisked off and never to be heard of again.”
She comes even closer, glaring at me, and I feel like I’m being stalked by a predator.
“She had a plan though. She had one all along … Like a good little girl, she finished school, became accomplished. She infiltrated herself in the corporate world before hearing word of the other girl’s marriage. Finally, her day for revenge had arrived.”
“She went to the city on a business trip, traveled far, far away. She was there to work on a merger with another company, but it gave her a great chance to infiltrate the wedding. She bribed someone in the wedding party, an employee with the catering company who had a bad gambling problem. She gave him poison and he promised he would put it in the bride’s drink.”
She furrows her brows, and I think to myself I’d never seen her this angry. She’s a savage beauty, as gorgeous as she is wild …
“Yet the bitch escaped judgment one more time as her husband drank the poison. Poor, innocent Matthew.”
She laughs manically and I thrash in my chair, trying to slap her for what she’s saying. I never want to see my husband’s name leave her lips again – it just hurts too much, knowing now that she’s the one responsible for his death.
She comes closer until her face is inches from mine.
“You got lucky so far,” she says softly, grinning from ear to ear in a grotesque smile. “But not today. It’s judgment day, bitch.”
“You’re right,” Dylan’s voice interrupts. “It is judgment day.”
With that, I look away quickly and realize he’s gotten out of the ropes that bound us, but before I have time to react, Dylan grasps Venetia in his arms and pulls her away from me as she screams and thrashes. He’s got her in a death grip, but she’s screaming her head off, and I whip my head to the side, realizing Dylan had been cutting himself out of the ropes as she told me the story.
I’m about to attempt to move again when there’s an enormous commotion outside and suddenly, the door breaks off the hinges, falling to the floor.
“Freeze, police!” a voice yells out.
It’s all too familiar, and I recognize the figure in the doorway as Detective Andrew Andrews.
Chapter 39
My eyes shoot toward the broken entrance to the apartm
ent and connect with the detective’s. He sees me tied up and I see such rage in his face I instantly fear for Venetia, despite everything she did and was planning on doing to me.
But then I take in our surroundings, realizing how this must look to the detective.
I’m tied up on the chair and Dylan has Venetia in a death grip, from which she’s desperately trying to escape.
My eyes connect with Andrews once again and I look at him with sheer terror as I realize he must be seeing this completely wrong. I yell against the rag in my mouth, but it comes out muffled, and I’m too late, because he’s already aimed his gun at Dylan.
And before I can move, a gunshot sounds out and Venetia and Dylan topple over, blood blooming between the two of them.
Immediately, I’m transported to that night during the summer that changed my life forever. I see the blood, see Dylan standing over the body, and see myself shrieking as they tear him away from me.
I thrash against my chair and Andrews rushes towards me, throwing the gun to the floor as he does so. He unties me first and I reach for the rag in my mouth as tears start streaming down my face.
“Lola,” he says desperately. “I’m so glad I got here in time, I was so afraid he would hurt you …”
He tries to lean forward to embrace me, but before he can do it, I’ve pushed him away and, I come face to face with an enraged Venetia.
I freeze on the spot, my eyes finding Dylan on the floor, realizing with despair that the blood on Venetia’s crisp white shirt must be his. He’s motionless, and it is then that I think of my wedding day.
I realize seconds later that Venetia is aiming a gun at me and detective Andrews.
“Freeze, police,” she mimics mockingly and laughs like the deranged freak she is as the blood freezes in my veins. I do as she says, too afraid to look behind my shoulder or even glance at Dylan lying motionless on the floor.
“Please, Venetia,” I whisper, but she shrieks to shut up.
“On the floor, both of you,” she commands, and I follow hesitantly, lying face down on the floor like she instructed. I look at Andrews out of the corner of my eye, his eyes apologizing for his misunderstanding.
If Dylan dies, I will show this man no forgiveness. I will make sure he goes down, even if I have to go down with him.
Venetia makes us lie on the floor and proceeds to taunt us, her maniacal laughter ringing out as an echo, whether in the room or just my mind, I’m not sure. The fact of the matter is, she has the ball in her hands now and she’s made it abundantly clear what she intends on doing.
She wants me dead and gone.
“Stupid bitch,” she snarls in my face, toying with the gun as she does so while my eyes are desperately trying to find a sign of Dylan’s body moving, hoping to see his chest moving up and down, but to no avail.
I don’t dare speak up, instead listening to Venetia ramble on and on until it almost seems like she’s delirious, lost in a world of her own. I become worried for her for some absurd reason, realizing she might be too far gone to help.
“Stupid, stupid bitch,” she keeps repeating over and over again, tossing the gun from one hand to another. Then, she presses it against my temple as my body freezes in place.
“Like the feel of that?” she asks softly. “You’ll like it even more when I blow your brains out.”
I’m about to start crying again, looking at Andrews hopefully while he returns a helpless gaze, too afraid to move from his position on the floor.
But just then, an animalistic scream rings out and Venetia is tackled to the floor from behind. Before I can so much as move a muscle, Andrews is up and cuffing Venetia and Dylan is stumbling backwards, bleeding heavily through his shirt.
“Dylan!” I scream loudly, already heading for him as Andrews holds Venetia back. She’s still trying to get me, snarling at me as I rush past her to the love of my life. But I don’t even notice her; too preoccupied with making sure Dylan is okay.
I thought he was gone.
I thought I had lost him, too, but in the moment when I least expected it and most needed it, he once again came to my rescue, pulling me out of fate’s hands and making sure I was okay.
“Dylan,” I whisper when I reach him, crumpling to my knees on the floor and pulling his head in my lap as he mutters unintelligibly.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you,” Andrews’ voice rings out behind him as I realize he’s reading Venetia her rights. As he does so, she keeps hurling insults at me, promising she’ll get me one day or another.
I let the tears fall then, as I’m crouching next to Dylan. I can see his chest moving, but only barely so.
“Lola,” he whispers hoarsely, and I shush him, worried he’ll be gone if he so much as makes a sound. As always, he doesn’t listen, which warms my heart as much as it breaks it.
“Lola,” he repeats, clearing his throat weakly. “I want you to know I always loved you, no matter what, no matter … whatever happened, I loved you.”
I hate that he’s talking in the past sense, my tears streaming down my face freely now.
“I will always be here,” he says. “I will always love you. Even when my body isn’t on this earth anymore,” he finished and my heart breaks right along with his words.
“Dylan, don’t say that,” I whisper through my tears, hearing a terrible commotion behind me. I risk taking a look back and realize an entire police team has gathered in the apartment, along with some medics.
“Over here!” I shout shrilly. “We need some help here.”
Immediately, a medic approaches me and I realize Dylan’s eyes are closed, which makes me even more panicked. He tries to tear me away, but I’m not having it.
“I’m staying,” I tell him firmly, and I guess my resolution is strong enough for him to stop fighting me and focus on saving Dylan instead.
Soon he is lifted up on a gurney that is brought into the apartment and I’m at his side at all times, making sure everything is okay.
To get out of the apartment though, we have to pass a screaming and completely manic Venetia. I try to slip by, but she somehow manages to take hold of my hair and pull on my locks hard before two police officers pull her off of me.
“I’m going to get you,” she says, sounding completely insane. “One way or another, I’m going to get you in the end.”
I try to pretend her ominous promise doesn’t affect me and move out of the apartment, though my heart is still beating unsteadily and my scalp burns where she pulled at it.
I follow the rescue team outside and they reassure me they’ll be right inside the emergency vehicle, where they’ll be performing CPR on Andrews. I nod weakly and settle against the door, trying to discern the sounds coming from the other side of the vehicle.
I refuse any help they offer me, focused only on Dylan, hoping he makes it out. Needing him to be okay.
“Lola?” someone asks hesitantly, and I turn my head slowly towards the sound of the voice, realizing it’s detective Andrews. I feel such intense hatred for him in that moment, but I can’t do a thing, because I feel like I’m going to collapse any second now.
“Leave me alone, please,” I whisper softly, too tired to have this conversation now.
“I will,” he promises, yet he makes no effort to leave, instead inching even closer. I react by moving away quickly, too disgusted by his actions to let him touch me.
“Just wanted to let you know Venetia Rawlings has been taken into police custody,” he tells me in a more formal voice, apparently realizing I want nothing to do with him when it comes to the romantic aspect.
“Finally?” I ask softly, my eyes shooting towards his accusingly, and he looks away. I think him a coward for not even being able to hold my gaze. “I think it’s high time for that.”
“Lola-” he begins again, yet I’ve had enough, rubbing my tired eyes with my hands that still hurt from the restraints Venetia had used to strap me to the chair.
>
“I’d like you to call me Mrs. Roberts,” I say coldly. “Actually, I don’t remember ever telling you you could call me by my first name.”
He actually has the decency to blush, and I turn my back to him, not wanting to speak another word to the man.
He lingers for a few moments before disappearing, and as soon as he’s gone, I feel like an enormous weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
In the next moment, the door of the emergency vehicle opens swiftly and I step aside quickly so as not to be hit by the metal. “Any news?” I ask desperately.
The male rescue worker I spoke to previously looks at me anxiously and I prepare myself for another piece of absolutely awful news.
“We have a pulse,” he admits, and my spirits lift, a blissful smile making its way onto my face, but it is erased as soon as he continues.
“It’s a very weak one,” he explains softly. “We’re going to the hospital now. You can ride in the vehicle if you’d like,” he offers, and I thank him for the offer with so many words, but only in my mind.
In real life, I just nod thankfully, my lips pursed in a tight, worried line.
He helps me step up the stairs into the vehicle and I’m shocked when I see Dylan. We’re not even in the hospital yet, but he’s already got three tubes coming out of his veins and an oxygen mask attached to his face.
I suck in a breath, realizing he isn’t conscious. The rescue worker shows me where to sit, but I look at him with such desperation, he instead sighs heavily and offers me his seat by Dylan’s bed.
I accept it thankfully and sit down next to him as the sirens are turned on and we begin the race that might save Dylan’s life … or end it, along with any hopes I had for our future.
“Is it okay if … I hold his hand?” I ask the office worker hesitantly, and after a moment of indecision, he nods.
Gently, I take Dylan’s hand in mine, the one that isn’t covered in tubes. I grasp his fingers in mine and I close my eyes.
For the first time in years, I pray.
Please God, let me keep him. Let us be happy for once, after all this time, after everything that has happened. You took one love from me, let me keep the other. Let us be happy … at least for a little while.