“Hannah!” the voice calls, sounding distant and stretched. “Hannah!”
“Fuck,” Ethan curses, quickly pulling me upright and adjusting our clothes with deliberate yet gentle hands.
He even wipes my lips with his shirt-sleeve, slowly, almost as if I’m a small child.
A complete paradox to his earlier, violent administrations.
“It’s that little prick again.” Once we’re both standing and fully clothed, he grips my chin. “Say nothing, or I’ll kill him, got it?” He avows.
“Got it,” I nod numbly, wondering who he’s referring to.
As I turn, a shadowy silhouette approaches, but it doesn’t take long to figure out that it’s Jesse walking towards us like a knight in shining armor.
What’s he doing here?
“I thought I saw you come this way,” Jesse says slowly, taking in the scene. “What’s going on? Why are you guys behind the old abandoned grocery store?” The accusation isn’t missed.
“Taking a walk, what does it look like?” Ethan snaps, still standing directly behind me.
“A walk?” Jesse echoes, disbelief coloring his tone. “Back here?”
“That’s right,” Ethan says silkily, inching closer until his erection brushes up against my back. “We were hoping for a bit of privacy.”
Jesse flinches at the innuendo, but I can’t bring myself to put him in danger by verbally disagreeing. “I need to get going,” I say suddenly, swallowing back my nerves. “See you guys tomorrow.”
Ethan lets me walk away, but I know, I just know, this is far from over.
“Hannah, wait!” Jesse calls. “I’ll walk you back.” His boots shuffle, crunching against dirt and gravel.
Glancing back, I see Ethan backing away, a murderous gleam in his eye. I want to warn Jesse, but it seems he’s letting us go, for now.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Jesse finally asks, “So, what happened back there?”
I tense, almost tripping over a random pebble. “Nothing, why?” I ask, feeling lost and on edge.
“I mean, it’s pretty obvious Mr. Winchester has the hots for you,” Jesse accuses, but the twinkle in his hazel gaze is more playful than hateful.
His observation makes me sick to my stomach but also sends a wicked thrill through me.
Maybe I’m losing my mind, right along with the rest of this town because what I should be doing is running to the nearest police station. Ethan Winchester is a maniac with serious problems, a devil who nearly forced himself on me only moments ago.
I laugh nervously. “Nah, he was just being friendly,” I say, shocking myself.
It’s odd, but I don’t feel the need to wash myself.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Hannah?” Jesse asks as we stop right before the movie theatre. “You seem stressed, even more so than when I saw you earlier.” The wind picks up, and he lightly pushes a piece of my hair back in place.
“I really wish you would stop asking me that,” I say irritably, watching a few cars go by out of the corner of my eye. “I’m fine.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “My bad, I’ll stop asking you that. It’s just with everything going on,” he sighs, pausing. “Do you ever think maybe Mr. Winchester; just maybe he’s got something to do with the murders?”
Yes, and I still do. Now more than ever, but I don’t say that. It’s like there’s something silencing me, something taking root in the darkest recesses of my brain.
An inky, slithering poison travels in my bloodstream now, but it doesn’t want to kill me.
It wants to control me.
“Seriously?” I ask, meeting Jesse’s tense stare. “No, of course not, I mean, that’s just crazy. After all, he’s a trusted member of the Elko community, right?”
Jesse scoffs. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of doing…the unthinkable. Seemingly normal people commit murder all the time.” He takes a step closer, whispering, “Plus, there’s something kind of cagey about him, the way he’s all scarred under that mask but pretends to be above society.”
“True,” I agree with a nod. “Anything is possible.”
“Bingo!” he shouts with a grin. “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!”
I smile despite myself, the sun finally peeking through clouds. “I think you’ve been taking your psychology notes a little too seriously,” I laugh with him.
“You’re beautiful like this,” Jesse praises, his face now only inches from mine. “I like to be the reason you smile.”
Jesse is a sweet boy and quickly becoming my only real friend in Elko, Nevada. “You’re too nice to me,” I tell him softly, still smiling. “Thank you for making me smile, I needed that.”
“Anything for you, Hannah, anything at all.”
I don’t respond, only watch instead as yet another raven flies over.
Caw, caw!
The Next Day, October 18th
“Hannah, wake up!” Lydia yells, shaking my shoulders. “Guess what?”
I sit up straight, fear in my throat. “What, what’s wrong?”
Oh, no.
Please don’t let it be another murder.
“There’s a party tonight!” she declares with a little too much enthusiasm. “And everyone’s going, including you.”
“Why do I have to go?” I glance down at the time. “And why’d you wake me up when there’s still a few hours left before classes start?”
My roommate hops around the room, arranging things here and there, reminding me of a frantic rabbit. “I couldn’t sleep,” she squeals, making me want to cover my ears. “Plus, I’ve heard some rumors about you, and I thought you might like to know.” She grins, flashing perfect, pearly white teeth.
Uncertainty and fear squeeze my chest. “Rumors?”
“Yes, rumors,” she confides excitedly, opening my closet and rummaging through it at a startling speed. “Practically everyone knows.” She throws over her shoulder.
“Knows what?” I ask, irritation starting to filter through the panic.
“That Jesse has a crush on you,” she says, turning and clapping her hands together like she just delivered great news. “All the girls on campus are green; I mean absolutely pea-green with envy!”
“Really?” I ask, relieved that word of what happened yesterday between Ethan and I hadn’t gotten out. “Oh, I see, I had no idea…” I trail off, trying to digest this new information.
My father had always said I was blind in the matters of love, that I didn’t see the way boys looked at me. Maybe he’d been right, after all.
“So, do you like him?” she asks in a sing-song voice while flitting through my closet again. “What’s not to like,” she mumbles under her breath.
“Ah, sure, as a friend,” I fumble for the right words. “He’s attractive of course; I just don’t see him that way.”
“Oh my gosh, girl!” she exclaims, hand to her curvy hip. “Are you serious? He’s the hottest guy on campus. He has that whole ‘Johnny Depp’ vibe going hard!”
She’s right, but there’s been way too much going on to think about dating. “The rumors are probably wrong, just because he’s been friendly doesn’t mean he’s interested.”
“Hmm, okay, honey.” She flips her long tresses of red-gold hair. “This…,” she says, pausing and pointing at me with a smirk on her pretty face. “This is what you call denial.”
“Well, personally, I think there’ve been more pressing matters, lately. Like two murders since school started.” I stand, stretching the cranks out of my neck. “But, hey, that’s just my opinion.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “True. But girl, we can’t let that ruin the rest of our freshman year.”
I like Lydia, but she doesn’t have much depth. “I’m going to get dressed and grab some breakfast,” I tell her, hoping for an end to the conversation. “It’s way too early.”
“Okay, suit yourself,” she says, closing my closet with a sigh. “But you’re coming to the party toni
ght, right?”
“Isn’t the curfew still in effect for midnight?” I question, pulling on a pair of faded bell-bottoms.
“Yes,” she agrees, plopping on her own bed and wiggling her eyebrows. “But we’re all crashing there, so it’s not even an issue.” She leans over and pulls her purple lamp shade on.
“Where?” I ask, curious despite myself.
“You know Amanda Tracey, right?” she affirms, bouncing off her bed again with renewed vigor. “Her parents are out of town for the weekend. Perfect timing, too.”
“Perfect timing?” I parrot, searching the hardwood floor for my shoes. “Perfect timing for what?”
“Halloween is right around the corner, and with all these crazy things happening around town, it’s sure to be spooky fun!”
She makes it sound like some sort of cliché scary movie.
“Right,” I agree vaguely, finally having spied my black flats sprawled across the room. “Well, I’m out of here. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Hannah, you’re no fun, girl! I swear, it’s like you’re from another planet,” she reprimands as I close the door in her frowning face.
Finally, some quiet.
I can’t stop thinking about what happened between Ethan and me, or why I ever agreed to call him Ethan. Why did he ask me to call him his given name in the first place?
Had I unknowingly entered some silent relationship with the man from the get-go?
None of it makes sense, especially the way I’m feeling. I mean, I should’ve told Jesse the truth and gone to the police station last night. But reporting Ethan Winchester is the last thing on my mind. Instead, I find myself curious about what he’s doing, or if he’s planning to find me again and finish what he started.
I’m not holding my breath or anything, but a part of me wants something, expects something.
Maybe more?
There’s a bruised ache in my chest, but I can’t decide if I’m floating or drowning.
Shaking my head, I decide right then and there that I need to skip psychology class for today. I need more time to clear my head and make a rational decision. The last thing I need is to make a complete fool of myself.
Out of the corner of my eye, just as I turn down another hallway, I see Jesse following me.
“Hey, Hannah, you skipping class?” he asks, catching me by the elbow.
The side door opens and a few students rush by, running late for class.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling so good,” I lie easily, starting to walk away again.
“If you think you’re skipping without me, you’re dead wrong.” His voice is way too deadpan, sending off warning bells in my already jumbled brain.
“Uh…”
He busts out laughing, a wolfish grin lighting up his handsome features. “I’m just messing with you, Hannah.”
Of course he is.
Duh.
My nerves are just strung out and on high alert. “I’m the one who’s sorry, not enough sleep last night.”
“You’re having sleeping problems?” he asks with concern, raking a hand through his darkish auburn hair.
“Actually my roommate woke me up really early this morning.”
He coughs into his hand. “Any particular reason?”
I almost blush. “Something about a party,” I answer with a shrug.
“Ah, the party at the Tracey house,” he acknowledges. “You’re coming, right?”
“I’m not sure yet. What about you?” I ask conversationally.
“With you, of course,” he says seriously, inching closer. “You know, I’m already halfway in love with you, Hannah Vale.” His hand suddenly palms the side of my face.
Before I can respond, Ethan’s dark voice slithers up my spine. “Get your hands off her, or I’ll cut them off.”
Seconds Later…
“Mr. Winchester?” Jesse pivots, placing a protective arm around my shoulder. “What the hell, man?”
“Hannah,” Ethan breaths reverently, “come with me, now.” He holds his hand out as if beckoning a child.
“I’m not feeling well,” I tell him, feeling like I’ve just entered a Twilight Zone episode. “Jesse was just walking me back to my room.”
On one side, Jesse is looking at Ethan like he’s lost his mind and on the other; Ethan Winchester is gazing into my eyes like I’m his long, lost love. A strange urge pulses through me in that moment, the desire to walk up to him and remove his mask.
Bare his soul.
“What’s going on?” Stacey’s voice dashes cold water on the fog clouding my brain. “Mr. Winchester, we’re all waiting for you to start class.” She pops her gum, completely deluded to her surroundings.
Ethan’s eyes unfreeze, his masked face turning off to the side, but I’m still aware of his every movement. How his white collared chest is still rising and falling with emotion, his fists clenched at his side.
Trapped.
“Hannah isn’t feeling the greatest, so I’m helping her back to her room,” Jesse explains softly. “We’ll get going, and I’ll be back later.” He smirks. “With your permission, sir.”
Stacey finally senses the tension, her eyes taking in the scene with a new light. “Everything okay?” she asks, inching slightly closer.
“Feel better soon, Hannah,” Ethan bites out, his eyes as cold as a hell frozen over.
Jesse pushes on my back, herding me out of the hallway. “See you around, Stacey.”
“Bye,” I say, waving and letting Jesse lead me away.
“That was a bit bizarre, right?” Jesse asks once we’re a couple of halls away. “Did you hear what he said?”
My mouth is dry and I have no desire to talk. “Yes,” I answer shortly, grateful to have a friend like Jesse but also craving silence.
“He said he’d cut my hands off,” Jesse raises his voice, jerking us to a halt. “Don’t you find that more than coincidental, what with Edward’s head being cut off and left for everyone to see?”
Oh, God. He’s right, and I’m just too fucked up in the head to think clearly.
This is it; the reality is finally too much to bear. Ethan Winchester, who tried to force himself on me just yesterday, must be the killer.
The murderer of Edward Turner and Jared Shaw.
I take several deep, calming breaths, my vision starting to swim. “What should we do?” I ask, leaning into him for support.
“It’s okay,” he soothes, wrapping me up into a tight embrace. “First things first, Hannah.” One of his hands slides down my back, rubbing in slow, circular motions. “I think you need to rest, maybe try to take a nap.”
“What about Ethan?” I ask fearfully.
His hold loosens so that he can look at me. “Unfortunately, we’re going to need more proof than his words, but at the rate he’s going, I don’t think it’ll be long before everyone knows the truth.”
“Maybe…” I trail off as he takes my hand and we head for the dormitories. “I mean, I really hope so.” My feet drag, uncertainty in every step.
Four hours later my alarm goes off, startling me awake from a deep, much needed sleep. Reaching for the silver clock alarm, I shut it off and then rub the sleep from my eyes.
I haven’t had much of an appetite in the recent weeks, but quite suddenly, I’m ravenous.
My stomach grumbles and I smile, thinking about a nice big juicy cheeseburger, loaded with pickles and tomatoes with a side of French fries.
Oh God, that sounds good.
Back at home when I lived with my dad, he’d never allowed me to eat such greasy foods. He was as health conscience as they came, but somehow I never felt like it was for my own good. My dad had been a control freak, plain and simple.
And I’d hated him for it.
Every morning waking me up to that blasted song.
Oh, life could be a dream, sweetheart…
I still can’t get it out of my head.
Hello, hello again…
“Hannah, what are you d
oing?” Lydia asks, popping her head out from her own closet this time.
I smile, happy to see her. “Doing…what do you mean?”
She tilts her head, walking slowly forward. “Well, you were singing some song. An oldie, I think.”
“Oh, yeah.” I sit up, shrugging. “It’s a song my dad and I used to listen to by The Coasters.”
“I think I remember it,” she says softly, tapping her forehead. “Anyways, are you feeling any better? You had us worried.”
“Honestly, I feel amazing,” I tell her, smiling again. “It’s like I slept for a week.”
Eyeing me curiously, she sits down next to me. “Did you get probed by aliens while you were asleep or something?”
I giggle. “Why would I get probed by aliens? Anyways, isn’t that usually a nighttime operation?”
“Oh my gosh, you did get probed!” She laughs with me, her green eyes sparkling with mirth.
“You’re a funny girl, Lydia.” I pat her hand, noticing she’s just painted her nails.
Suddenly she looks serious. “Well, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you haven’t been a smiley type of person since school started. At one point, I even thought maybe you had…you know, some kind of depression.”
“Aren’t you sweet, worrying about me,” I say, reaching up to lay a friendly hand on her shoulder. “But you’re wrong; I’ve just been tired for a really long time.”
“Looks like that man of yours will have to make sure you get plenty of sleep from here on out,” she quips, popping bright-pink gum.
“Man of mine?” I question, raising a brow.
“Jesse, duh, the guy that practically carried you here.”
“Oh yeah, he did, didn’t he?”
“Duh, the guy is obsessed with you, Hannah,” she says dreamily, tossing her hair over a shoulder. “Like really obsessed. You should have seen his face when he left; all crestfallen and worried over his precious Hannah.”
“You really think he’s into someone like me?”
“Someone like you?” she asks incredulously. “Have you looked in a mirror, lately?”
“No, not really,” I admit shyly. “My dad always used to say vanity was a sin, that we shouldn’t put too much stock into our appearances.”
The Horror of our Love: A Twisted Tales Anthology Page 9