by Nicole Hart
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” I whimpered as I realized what was covering my hands.
Blood.
My eyes were drawn to a tattered piece of paper in the bottom of the bag. I recognized the familiar handwriting that littered the page. There were names with jagged lines drawn through them. As if they were being checked off a list. Names I recognized, some I didn’t.
Jasper
Jessica
Robert
Bethany
Duane
Amie
Danny
It was Jackson. He was the killer.
But there were two names left. Two names that hadn’t been crossed through, yet.
Johanna
Sara.
My chest tightened and I couldn’t catch my breath. I had to get out of here. I had to warn Sara. I had to protect them. I needed to go to the police. I needed help. I stood on shaky legs, determined to make them work in my favor, regardless of how much they were protesting this very minute.
“What are you doing?” The familiar deep voice boomed behind me, too close for comfort.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I gripped all the answers in my trembling hand.
“Jackson,” I mumbled, fear consuming me, scared to turn around but even more terrified of keeping my back to him.
I slowly turned on my heel, facing the killer in front of me. The look he wore caused my breathing to hitch. He was Jackson, but he wasn’t. The man before me stared at me with hatred in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. I tried to force the lump in my throat down, but it fought me every step of the way, trying to claw its way to the surface.
“It’s you.” My voice was a shaky whisper, the words themselves scared of the consequences.
“You caught me!” He held his arms out in surrender and then began to laugh. His eerie chuckle echoed in the bedroom we had shared for so many years.
“You killed those people. You killed Amie.” I couldn’t believe I was so wrong this whole time. I was sleeping next to a killer. Married to one, and I didn’t even realize it.
I held out the tattered sheet of paper in front of me, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I sure did. And I loved every fucking minute of it.” He licked his lips and stared at my body like he was ready to devour me. I had to leave.
“You’re crazy!” I shouted. My feet began to move. I had to get away from him before I became his next victim.
“Aw, baby, you have no fucking idea.” He was amused at this whole situation, and I knew I didn’t have much time. His voice followed closely behind me as I fled the bedroom.
Escape.
He brushed past me and slammed his shoulder into mine before walking over to his recliner and pulling out the flask he kept in the side pocket for safekeeping.
“I have to get out of here.” The words weren’t meant for Jackson, they were for me.
“Sure you do. You can run but you can’t hide.” His words stabbed me like a knife as he pressed the metal container to his lips and took a long pull.
I wasn’t on his list, but I was part of his plan—I had no doubt about it. Not to mention Mama and Sara. I couldn’t allow this to happen. My eyes darted to the hand-held gun case that sat on the table a few feet away from me.
“I like the runners. The thrill of the chase.” He took another swig of his liquor and raked his hand across his sweaty forehead, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. I was so disappointed in myself for not realizing this sooner. I could have stopped this a long time ago. But I didn’t.
“That boss you loved so much, she was fast.” He gave me an evil grin and stared past me, as if he were recalling the memory. “But not fast enough.” He made a stabbing gesture and I felt the bile in my stomach rise into my throat.
He was a fucking psychopath.
“I hate you.” I took a few steps backward, until my bottom hit the side of the table.
“You think I don’t know that. You made that clear a long time ago. When you chose that fucking bitch over me. And that head-case fucking mother of yours. Your sweet little family fucking disgusts me. But don’t worry, their time is coming.” The venom he spat at me ran up my spine. I pressed my hands behind my back and opened the gun case when I noticed a shiny metal knife sticking out of his belt loop.
Just as my eyes focused on his weapon, he decided to retrieve it and held it close to his face, admiring it with a grin.
I couldn’t be naïve anymore. I was next. I knew that with everything inside of me. And if I were dead, I couldn’t protect Mama. Or Sara. Or Jake. Or any other innocent person he decided to slaughter for sport.
I gripped the gun in my hand and pointed it at Jackson, trying to keep my hands from trembling.
“What the fuck do you think you’re going to do with that, Rachel? You’ve never shot a gun in your life.” He shook his head and pressed the flask to his lips once again, taking two steps closer to me.
“You won’t hurt anyone else. I won’t let you.” My finger held firm on the trigger, knowing the chamber was already loaded.
“Be a good little girl and put the gun down, Rachel. You know you don’t have the guts anyway.” His condescending tone fueled my anger as I held the pistol firmly.
“Fuck you,” I spat.
“You wanna know why? Because you’re weak. You’ve always been weak. You’ll always be weak.”
The loud crack startled me as Jackson stumbled backward. The smoking gun still gripped tightly in my hand. I stared as he slid down the wall, blood seeping through his gray cotton shirt and spilling onto the carpet fibers.
My feet remained frozen to the ground as he began to moan, crimson forming around his lips, dripping down his chin.
“Fucking bitch.” He stared in my direction with a smirk before his eyes rolled back and then closed, his mouth hanging open.
Escape.
Escape.
Escape.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.” The realization of what I’d just done came crashing down on me. I ran out the door, locking it behind me and went to the only place I knew to go.
Just a few minutes later, I pulled up to Sara’s house, my drive over nothing but a blur. I jumped out of my car and looked in all directions, hoping and praying I wasn’t being followed. Or caught.
I jerked the front door open and fell to the floor, unable to hold my own weight a second longer.
“Oh shit. Rach, what is it?” Sara was at my side, crouched on the floor beside me with Jake on the other.
“It’s him. It was him.” My body shook, the last hour flashing through my mind.
“Who? Duane? Talk to me.” She begged, moving in front of me and drawing my chin up to her.
“Jackson. He did it. All of it. And I shot him.” I began to hyperventilate.
“Breathe. Just breathe.” She rubbed my shoulder and I saw Jake launch to his feet beside me.
“Where is he?” Jake’s demanding tone scared me. I couldn’t answer him. “Rachel, where is he? Where’s the gun?” His voice commanded my attention and I looked up at him.
“At my house. I don’t want to go to jail. He was going to kill all of us.” I tried to defend my actions and then looked around the living room, thankful that I didn’t see Mama anywhere.
“He had a list. With names of those he’d killed. And the ones he planned to.” My voice was hoarse and my throat felt as if razor blades were raking across it.
But I had to get this out.
“You were next Sara. And Mama.” My body shook as I recalled the sheet of paper that I’d left on my living room floor.
Jake stalked past me and went out the door that led to their garage, and I continued. “I had to do it. I had to protect you. I couldn’t let him get to either one of you.”
“You don’t have to convince me of anything, Rachel.” Sara tried to console me as Jake reappeared, holding his own duffle bag this time, and then knelt in front of me.
“Do you trust me?” His voice was soft, but
controlled. “Sara is my life. And you and Johanna are my family. Do you trust me?” he repeated once more.
“Yes.”
“I’ll take care of this.” Both Jake and Sara stood as I stared up at them.
“Be careful. I love you,” she whispered before standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his.
“I love you. And I got this.” He stormed out, gripping the bag at his side, leaving Sara and me staring at the door.
“He can handle this,” Sara spoke after a few seconds of silence.
“I know.” I trusted him.
“You won’t be punished for doing what was necessary.”
I simply nodded, unable to reply.
But I knew the truth.
I did what I had to do. I couldn’t allow him to hurt anyone anymore.
Revenge was never part of my plan; I just wanted to escape and keep my family safe. But I wouldn’t regret my actions.
He deserved what he got.
“Do you love your new apartment?” Sara’s voice soothed me on the other end of the line as I stared out my window onto the busy street below.
“It’s tiny, but I don’t care. I love it.” I let out a contented sigh, glancing over my shoulder at the already furnished efficiency apartment I sat in. My eyes studied the built-in bookshelf that came with the unit. The moment I had seen that, I knew I was in the right place. I was still working on filling them with my favorites, all the books I’d ever checked out from the school library and the classics we had to read in school. I’d get there.
“How was work?” she asked, and I tried to focus on our conversation and not get swept up in the hustle and bustle below.
“It was good.” I’d found a new job working the front desk at an establishment that helped underprivileged, inner-city kids. I was already getting attached to some of them and felt more each day that I was exactly where I belonged, even though it was hard to leave Mama and Sara.
“Hold on one sec, okay?” Her giggles on the other end of the line made me smile.
“Hello, sweet girl.” Mama’s voice was like angels in my ear.
Her speech was still slow but getting better every day. She started talking again shortly after I had moved in with Sara. I’d stayed until the insurance policy went through and was able to move out on my own. The doctors couldn’t understand what had changed, but we knew. Mama had stopped speaking around the same time Duane had woken up. Our greatest fear that we all carried for years had come to pass and she knew it. And that fear stole her voice. She wasn’t strong enough to speak her truth. Years of trauma had left her broken. It robbed her. For years, she spiraled into darkness, unable to escape her own pain and guilt. But she was free now.
We were all free.
Free from the evil that plagued all of us for so many years, in different forms.
“Mama!” I sighed, and a huge smile covered my face “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good. I miss you.”
I hung onto every word she spoke and still came close to tears each time I heard her voice.
“I miss you, too.” I tilted my head back, forcing the tears to take a hike.
“Did you see the…get to see the lib…the Statue of Liberty?” Her words still got jumbled, and it frustrated her, but I loved the sounds all the same. It was music to my ears after years of silence.
“I did. I took a ferry over and saw it this morning. It was amazing. I took a ton of pictures. I’m going to have them printed so I can send them to you.” I slid my boots on over my leggings as I talked to her and glanced around the room for my purse.
“That’s so sweet, baby. I love you,” she gushed on the other end of the line.
“I love you, too.” My voice cracked as I heard Sara’s once more. I knew Mama still got tired easily, and adding speaking into her daily routine seemed to wear her down more.
“Okay, I know you have plans. So call me later, city slicker.” Sara’s infectious laugh made me giggle.
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too, bitch.” She ended the call, and I placed my phone in my purse.
I walked out of my apartment and turned both locks before heading to the coffee shop a few blocks over. I had actually made a few friends in the apartment building, and we were getting together tonight. It was strange how I’d never really had many friends my whole life, yet in the busiest city in the world, I seemed to make them easily.
I took the stairs and then flung the heavy metal door open, the sounds of New York City buzzing in my ears. I maneuvered my way through the crowds that were constantly gathered and relished in everything that made this city perfect for me. The horns constantly honking, the smog, and the thousands of people I saw once and never saw again.
After everything went down, part of me worried that I would be caught and punished for what I did. But Sara assured me that with Jake’s military background, he had it handled. And he did. One hundred percent.
“It was just a terrible accident.” Those were the words of the fire chief who had called me at Sara’s after our home had been engulfed in flames.
And from those ashes, I would rise.
I’d cried genuine tears at Jackson’s small funeral. Not for him. But for all the families who’d lost someone to his evil ways. He didn’t deserve my tears, and he wouldn’t get any of them.
He deserved to die.
I was safe from him and all the evil I’d endured my whole life. It was part of my past, and it wouldn’t resurface.
Besides, I was the grieving widow.
Case closed.
I weaved my way through the walls of stone, and crisp grass crunched beneath my boots with every step. I caught myself on a cross made from rock when the lumpy ground caused me to lose my footing.
“Fuck,” I growled, regaining my composure. I squinted my eyes against the setting sun and tried to make my way to my destination. When I saw her come into view, a sigh of relief escaped my lips.
I slid down in front of her, ignoring the cold stares he sent in my direction even though I could feel the weight of his disapproval boring into me. Fuck him.
“What’s up, Ma?” I smirked, forcing myself not to make eye contact with him in favor of focusing on her.
She refused to answer—it pissed me off, but sometimes it happened. But I wasn’t going to argue with her, not today.
I stared at her, watching and waiting, the only sound around us was the wind whipping through the trees. I pulled my copper flask from my back pocket and twisted the cap. The potent smell invaded my senses just before I pressed the cold metal to my lips and allowed the liquid fire to slide down my throat. The familiar burn filled my chest and brought me comfort.
“I know you tried. I know that now.” The words fell from my lips much slower than I intended.
Rachel would stare at me with disgust when I got home because I liked to have a drink every now and then. I couldn’t understand how she got so fucking judgmental. I took another long pull from the flask to get her out of my head. I hated the way she looked at me sometimes—or rather, looked down on me. She wasn’t any better than me; we were both fucked up.
She used to know that—hell, we talked about it all the time. But somewhere along the way, she changed. Now all she cared about was her sister and that fucking job—she loved both of those things more than me.
“Quit fucking staring at me!” My voice echoed in the empty graveyard as I stared at him. I threw the flask as hard as I could against the stone to my left and watched the amber liquid leak onto the engraved numbers. Panicking, I snatched the metal container before the contents were gone and savored the remaining comfort.
I could almost hear him laughing at my pain, but that was nothing new. He deserved everything he got.
But she didn’t.
I pressed my face against her resting place, wishing she was here with me instead of in a casket, six feet under. She wasn’t perfect, but she loved me. Maybe she couldn’t always protect me, but she didn�
�t hurt me. Not like he did.
And once she was gone, all I had was Rachel.
“Jackson, I’m so sorry.” Rachel clung to my arm as they wheeled her lifeless body away from the house. I knew she had been sick for a while, but she never went to the doctor, so we didn’t know it was that bad.
Until she didn’t wake up that afternoon. I just stared at the scene playing out and watched as the EMTs put her in the back of the ambulance. They pulled away without even looking back at me. No one even cared that I had just lost her. She was just another body to them.
Fuck them.
Fuck all of them.
We stood in silence as the dust cleared, and we were left alone in the driveway.
“Is there anything I can do?” Rachel pressed against me. Her firm tits rubbed against my chest, and my dick got hard from her touch.
“You can marry me. We can get the fuck out of this place and start a life of our own. Forget all this bullshit.” I couldn’t live in a house with him any longer. I wouldn’t.
“But I don’t turn eighteen for another month, and I have to finish school.” She stared at me with a confused expression that pissed me off. She always had a reason to disagree with everything I said, questioning my ideas.
Why did she have to be so fucking difficult? I had to force my rage down deep, knowing if I let it show, she’d never run away with me. And I needed her. She was all I had left.
But my anger was festering and causing my insides to tremble. My palms began to sweat, and my breathing quickened. I inhaled a deep breath before slowly releasing it.
“As soon as I finish school, I’ll marry you. I promise.” She pressed her face against my chest and gripped me tightly, and the anger fell away, but it was only temporary, and I knew it.