by Dori Lavelle
“Okay,” I say, letting out a silent sigh of relief.
If I don’t manage to escape before evening, a hotel would be the perfect place for me to alert someone that I’m in danger. There will be lots of people coming and going. Someone will believe me. If not, I’ll beg them to go online and do a quick search about me. Someone must have reported me missing.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” he says, coming to kiss both me and the doll on our cheeks. “It will be a fun adventure. We can pretend we’re on a romantic vacation.” He cradles my head between his hands. “How does that sound?”
“Good,” I mutter.
“Perfect.” He pauses. “I love this side of you. It makes me love you even more.”
Of course, he does. He prefers me weak and broken because it makes him feel powerful.
I part my lips to say something more, but what more could I say to a monster? I decide to keep my mouth shut and lower the doll into the bassinet next to the bed.
“What else do you want me to do?” I ask, straightening up.
“Get ready to leave this place. There’s no reason for us to stay here until evening. We don’t really have much stuff. We’ll leave the key under the doormat on the doorstep.”
Panic wells up inside my throat as I think of something to say, to stop him from taking me away. “Wouldn’t they want to have a look around the place to make sure we didn’t take anything?” I swallow hard. “I mean... the landlord.”
“Fuck them. I’m not staying here any minute longer. They can all go to hell.”
I give a slight nod, then I push myself to my feet. “Should I... Should I take the... baby’s things to the car?” Maybe I can escape that way. Maybe I could hide in someone’s else’s yard.
“No. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” He wheels the huge suitcase to the bed.
“What’s that for?” We don’t have enough stuff to fill it with. Does he plan on stealing from the landlord?
“This is for you,” he says, flipping open the cover.
“I don’t have enough clothes for—”
“It’s not for your clothes. It’s for you and the baby.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Of course, I am. If I let you out of this house, what’s the first thing you’ll try and do?”
I don’t respond. He already knows what my answer will be.
“That’s right, you’ll try to get away. I can’t allow that.” He glances at the suitcase. It’s large enough for me to fit inside, but I’d have to be curled up tight. “Don’t worry,” he continues. “You’ll only be in there until we get to the hotel. I booked us a spacious suite. You’ll be able to move freely inside it.”
“I’m not getting in that,” I say between clenched teeth. “And you can’t make me.”
“Amanda, Amanda,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t be stupid. The past few days were perfect. It would be a shame if you start messing things up for us again.”
“I’m not getting in,” I take a few steps backward, toward the door. It’s probably foolish, but I can’t stop from distancing myself from him. I keep going until I reach the door.
He doesn’t make a move to come after me, only watching me through a hooded gaze.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.
“As far away from you as possible.” I swallow hard. “You’re sick.”
I make it to the door and grab the handle, opening the door while my eyes are still on his face.
The moment I step out of the room, I start running for the stairs.
“Don’t you dare run from me,” he shouts from behind me. I can hear his footsteps hitting the floor now.
I only make it to the middle of the staircase before he catches up and roughly grabs my arm, forcing me to stop. A shiver of panic sweeps through me.
I yank my arm away from him and continue descending the stairs, my heart in my throat, sweat pouring down my spine. As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs, he plants a hand between my shoulder blades. I choke back a cry moments before I go flying forward, my still sore face hitting the hardwood floor at the bottom of the stairs. The instant pain forces a gasp to burst from my lips and my eyes to close.
When I wake up again, my movements are restricted. My knees are pressed to my chest and my hands are tucked behind my back. My face is throbbing with so much pain that tears come to my eyes.
I’m in the suitcase that I had refused to get into. The movement beneath me alerts me that I’m in the car and he’s taking me away just as he promised he would.
I gasp for air and try to push against the hard plastic of the case, but only then notice that my hands are tied behind my back and I can barely move in such a small space.
Breathing in and out through my mouth, I force myself to remain still. It’s fine. From what I know, Misty Cove is a small town. We’ll get to the hotel soon.
I won’t run out of air. I force myself to keep breathing. It’s all I can do to keep from going insane.
My eyes are heavy with sleep, but I force them to stay open in the darkness. Did he drug me again to keep me asleep for longer? He must have because my eyes are growing heavier with each second.
To make myself feel better, I think of all the ways I would punish him for his crimes. I’ll make sure he goes to prison for a very long time for what he did to me. I will not allow him to go out there and do it to someone else.
He can break me on the outside, but he can’t touch the strongest part of me. My inner strength is all I can hold on to right now. The pain spreading across my face from crashing into the floor and all the other pains in my body have merged into one. I can no longer tell where they come from individually.
From a distance, cars honk and music plays. Life is going on without me. People are going through their lives thinking everything is perfect, but they’re not aware of the evil beneath the surface. The other drivers have no idea that they’re on the same road as a dangerous criminal. I swear to myself that one day he’ll pay for what he did. But I also know that before it gets better, it will probably get much worse. He will punish me for trying to run again.
I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. I try hard to stay awake, but I fail.
Chapter 11
HUNTER
I grip the steering wheel tighter and force myself to stick to the speed limit.
Catching the attention of cops would be a big mistake. The last thing I need is for someone to insist on taking a look inside my trunk.
Amanda tried to run from me. That was a mistake. I wish she had behaved herself. Maybe I would have changed my mind about transporting her in the suitcase.
“We were doing so well the past few days,” I say to the black and white photo on the passenger’s seat.
My father.
If he were alive, he would understand why I’m doing this. My mother was just like Amanda. Her career was more important than her family. While my father stayed home and took care of me, she spent endless hours at the office. Since she was the one earning the money, she treated him like shit.
“I’m doing this for you, dad. I won’t allow history to repeat itself.” I touch the old photo briefly before bringing my hand back to the steering wheel. “I thought we were making progress. Amanda was turning into the perfect wife. But she tried to run again today. She wanted to leave me.”
When I come to a red traffic light, I pick up the photo, fold it in half, and push it into my wallet.
I’m doing this for my dad. I’m doing this for all the men out there who are disrespected by their wives.
The light turns green and I move the car forward. Everything will be fine. I just have to keep going.
The hotel I chose is only a fifteen-minute drive from the cottage. There’s not a large selection of five-star hotels in Misty Cove, but I went for the largest. I promised my wife enough space to move around. She’ll be spending a lot of time indoors, at least until we leave town.
If only she could open her eyes and see the good things I do for her. I’d hate for her to end up like the women I loved before her. The truth is, she’s the first woman I have ever truly loved. Letting her go would devastate me. I hope she won’t give me a good enough reason to get rid of her for good.
When I come to a halt in front of the hotel, a bellhop comes to help me out with my luggage.
“Not necessary,” I say, waving him away.
To my relief, there are not many people in the lobby. I don’t stay long at the reception desk, where I pay for my four-day stay in cash.
Four days. That’s all I need to get our cabin in the woods ready for my little family.
When the hotel receptionist hands me the keycard, a muffled groan comes from the suitcase carrying Amanda. I need to get her to the room as soon as possible. The drug is wearing off. I should have given her a larger dose.
Fortunately, I doubt anyone else heard her since they’re all going about their activities as though nothing is out of the ordinary.
To be on the safe side, I pull out my cell phone and put on some jazz music, then I head to the elevators.
Only then do the hotel staff and other guests turn their attention to me. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. I just gave them something to remember me by.
“Sir, would you mind lowering the volume a little?” the receptionist calls out. “It’s just that the other guests-–”
“Don’t worry,” I throw over my shoulder. “I’m out of here.” I press the elevator button. Within a few seconds, the doors yawn open.
They will forget me soon enough. Since most of our food will be delivered to the suite, they will not get to see me much.
I make it to the fourth floor, find our room, and slide the keycard into the slot. Amanda is groaning louder now. I quickly slam the door closed behind me. No one will hear her.
When I unzip the suitcase, she glares at me with wild eyes, which are wet from crying. I love her tears because they remind me that I’m in control. With a bruised and battered face, she looks almost ugly.
I drag her out and drop her onto the floor. “You made a fool of me down there,” I say through clenched teeth. “Let me make one thing clear. If you misbehave in here, I’ll have to get rid of you. You know what that means.”
She continues to gasp for air, her arms around her middle.
“Do I make myself clear?” I ask.
She presses her lips together and continues to ignore me. I kneel down beside her, grab a handful of her hair, and force her to look into my eyes. “Maybe this will make it easier for you to obey.” I clear my throat. “I guess it’s time you take a closer look at your dead friends.”
I drop her head to the floor and pull out my phone. This time, I bring the device closer to her face so she gets a good look.
“See, they’re dead and gone. Don’t make me do the same to you.”
She starts to cry, tears and snot making her look even less appealing to me. Maybe I was wrong all along. I always thought she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever fallen in love with, but right now as I watch her, disgust turns my stomach.
“You need to get cleaned up.” I pick her up from the floor and carry her to the bathroom.
The bath water is just hot enough to punish her for what she did. I lower her into the tub fully clothed just because I can. When her skin touches the water, her fighting spirit returns. Her kicking and screaming does nothing for her.
To shut her up, I push her head under the water. It gets on my nerves that she prefers suffering to obedience. Does she want me to break her completely before she gets it?
I hold her head under water until the fighting stops. Only then do I yank her out by the hair.
As I watch her gasping for air, trying to breathe through a coughing fit, I kneel in front of the bathtub. “Do you get it now?” I ask. “Do you understand now who’s in charge and what happens when you step out of line?”
She nods. That’s enough for now. I’m giving her only three more chances to prove herself. If she turns out to be more trouble than she’s worth, I’ll have no choice but to let her go.
I peel off her dress and wash her myself while she sits in the water like a zombie.
After her bath, I treat her cuts and wounds and lay her on the bed next to Sally.
“You know what,” I whisper in her ear. “I did kill your friends, but it wasn’t my first time taking a life. I’m telling you this because you’re my wife and you deserve to know the truth.”
Chapter 12
BREE
My stomach twists as I watch the room service attendant walking away, leaving me alone with Hunter on the balcony of our suite.
My so-called husband had asked the woman to serve us a romantic dinner, complete with expensive caviar and a bottle of champagne that’s chilling in the bucket.
Once upon a time, the smells of champagne, flowers, and burning candles brought me joy. I can still remember the many romantic dinners Hunter had prepared for both of us and how we’d spent them gazing into each other’s eyes while the candlelight danced on our faces. Now the same smells turn my stomach, and I can barely look into his eyes.
I tried hard to silently communicate to the room service attendant that I’m in trouble, but she was focused on doing her job. She barely met my eyes. My hopes of ever escaping Hunter’s clutches are crumbling away by the second and I’m losing the strength to fight. I don’t think I can take any more pain than he has already inflicted on me. What hurts the most is knowing that Hunter murdered my best friends.
I’m desperate to get away from him, to bring him to justice, but I don’t know how. Since we arrived at the hotel, he has hardly left my side and he threatened me several times with his gun, saying if I try to escape again, he’ll shoot me in the head.
The same gun is now hidden underneath the romantic dinner table. If I doubted him before, I don’t anymore, not after he confessed to being a serial killer. My mind wants to know how many people he murdered in total, but I’m not sure I want to know.
What matters is that he took the people I love from this world and the pain of loss is almost physical. Even worse, I have to keep my pain bottled up inside me. I can’t openly grieve for Vivian and Karen because it drives him insane.
“Won’t you eat?” Hunter asks fifteen minutes after we’re left alone. He glances at my food, then back at my face. “You’ve barely touched your meal. In fact, you haven’t been eating much lately.”
“I’m not that hungry,” I lie. The food looks delicious, but since he spiked my coffee at the cottage, I now live with the constant fear that he might put something in my food or drink again. So far, I’ve only been drinking water from the bathroom faucet when he wasn’t watching. It’s safer that way.
“I hope you realize that there won’t be any more food for you today. If I were you, I would eat.”
I lower my gaze to the seafood in my plate. Maybe it’s safe to eat. The room service attendant was the one who served the food, and it was never left alone with Hunter. He couldn’t have put anything in it without me noticing.
I pick up my knife and fork and start to eat, never looking up at his evil face.
“Are you cold?” he asks and I nod.
Goose pimples are scattered across my skin. They’re not caused by the evening breeze, but by the touch of his gaze on my skin.
He lifts a blanket from the armrest of his chair and drapes it around my shoulders. “Better?”
I give a slight nod and continue to eat in silence.
Even though I’m no longer looking at my surroundings, I’m aware of everything around me. My mind is busy thinking of all the candles around the hotel suite, not only on the dining table, but in both the bedroom and bathroom. He told me that he wanted us to make a real baby tonight.
Yesterday, he admitted the doll he’s been forcing me to breastfeed was a way for him to see if I was ready to be a mother. Apparently, I passed the test and we can now make a
real baby. Even though I felt disgusted by the idea of having a baby with a monster, I nodded. Doing anything that would anger him at this point could be dangerous.
“I wish you would talk to me,” he says, putting down his fork and knife. I watch his fingers for a moment as they lay splayed on the white tablecloth. Those fingers I used to love so much, long and elegant. I still remember how they used to dance along my spine when he made love to me, causing butterflies to erupt in the pit of my stomach. Now when I look at them, all I see is ugliness. They’re tainted with the blood of my friends.
“I don’t know what to say,” I say, lifting my gaze to his, but not really seeing him.
As a burning candle flickers between us, an idea hits me. Maybe there’s a way for me to get away from him after all. I’m well aware that if I fail, I could end up dead, but if he’s going to kill me anyway, I might as well die trying. He will kill me eventually because I will never stop wanting to get away from him. I think he knows that.
“Tell me how beautiful this evening is. Thank me for being such a romantic husband. There many women out there who are not as lucky as you are.”
“Thank you.” The words are hard to force past my lips, but I have no choice.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He clears his throat and lifts the champagne bottle from the bucket, pouring each of us a glass. I shake my head when he hands me mine.
“Come on, it will relax you. You look a little tense tonight.”
It takes all my strength to stop myself from laughing in his face. How dare he say that when he knows very well what he’s doing to me?
“I’m not... No, I’m fine.” My weak voice makes my heart shrink. I miss the woman I used to be, the one with a strong voice that changed lives in the courtroom. I’m terrified that I might never get her back. Even if I get my life back, I’ll never be the same person I once was. My life without my friends will be damaged. But what drives me is the thought of bringing Hunter to justice.
It’s time for me to give it another try, to try and get away from him before he kills me.