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He's At Your Door: a gripping psychological thriller

Page 10

by Alex Sinclair


  Beth holds her attention on me, not bothering to look at the man in the room with the gun who is still on his cell.

  "Things between us took a turn when I discovered he'd been seeing another girl my age casually. We were never exclusive or anything like that, but it still hurt when I realized I wasn't enough for him. I should have told him earlier that I wanted to take matters seriously."

  "Is that why you turned him in to the police?"

  "No. I wasn't that petty. I was, however, stupid beyond belief. I thought I needed to impress him. I figured if I could show him I was the better option, he'd love me and only me."

  Beth remains quiet. I can tell she doesn't want to interrupt. Instead her mouth stays open. I've left her gobsmacked with my nonsense. I realize I shouldn't be saying what I am about to say to her, but I have to. It needs to come out. I have buried it within for too long, allowing the truth to rot me from the inside out.

  "What did you do?" Beth asks.

  The memories flood in, washing over any strength I have left. Piece by piece, I'm falling apart. "We were driving along, late at night. I'd known for about a week he'd been spending time with another girl. I could smell her on him whenever we met up. I didn't dare reveal what I knew though. I thought I could fix things and make him love me, but I only made everything worse."

  "It's okay," Beth says. "Just let it out. What did you do to fix things?"

  I force myself to continue. "We stopped at a gas station to grab something to eat. We didn't need fuel. Before we left the car, I snatched a mask he kept in the glovebox and put it on. I told him I would rob the place. He thought I was joking until I grabbed his pistol too.

  I rushed out and charged toward the store, knowing there wasn't a second mask or gun for him to use. I'd be doing this on my own and showing him how wild I was. He'd have to pick me over anyone else. How could he choose another lover over me? Me, the one who ruined everything the second I flew into that gas station like a lunatic."

  A lump forms in my throat as tears sting my eyes. I try to speak. I try to fight through the pain coming through each word that spills from my mouth, but it's too much to handle.

  "What happened next?" Beth asks.

  "I... I can't..."

  "Hold it together," Beth whispers. "Please."

  But I can't. I shake my head and try to shy away from her.

  "Come on. You can do this," she says.

  The man returns from his conversation before I regain my ability to think straight. I lower my eyes to the point where I only see his legs and the end of his gun swinging freely in his arm.

  He grabs my chin with his spare hand and forces me to look him in the eyes.

  "Enough chat. It's time to step things up a notch."

  Chapter 31

  I stare ahead at the sight before me, unsure whether I'm in a dream. The long-haired man has put his pistol away only to replace the lethality of the tool with an oversize hunting knife. It's the kind that looks sharp enough to split a hair in two, and he's waving it around and at me while he rants and raves. I'm still trying to recover from my memories.

  His words blur into the background. I can't hear him. I feel aware that I am blocking him out while he makes threat after threat against me. Little does he know how much I despise myself.

  He moves the knife to within a few inches of my throat. "Do you want to die like this? Tied up while sitting on this crappy furniture in this run-down house? Well? Do you?"

  I shrug, just to give him an answer.

  "This isn't a joke. I've been sent here for one specific reason, so I would take what I say seriously."

  I let my eyes fall away from his. Something I can tell he hates. "Do what you have to," I reply.

  "Oh, I will, don't worry. There's no chance in hell you'll get out of this. But first, you will confess."

  "Confess?" I ask, glancing up to him. "What are you talking about?"

  He grins wide at me, happy to have my full attention. "You need to come clean about what you did and tell me on this phone the real reason you've been hiding away from the world for five years." He pulls out the cell he was using a moment before and hits a button to record me via video. His hands place the device down on the coffee table. He leans the cell sideways against a stack of coasters with the lens angled up toward me.

  My eyes flick between Beth's, the phone, and the man. Confusion consumes me. "Is this what Zach wants? Why?"

  "You know why," the man says pointing at the phone. The reason I'm not dead is because Zach wants me to tell the world on camera what I did. He wants everyone to become infuriated with the deal the authorities gave me that put me into witness protection while Zach got sent away for life. Killing me would be too simple. He wishes me to suffer.

  "I won't do it. You'll just have to kill me." I turn from him. I'd cross my arms if I could to show my defiance.

  "Is that so?" The man moves aside from me for a moment and paces in a small circle. He's grappling with something in his mind, struggling to make a heavy decision no doubt regarding me.

  I lean back on the sofa and close my eyes. How much longer do I have until he lashes out and strikes?

  "I guess you'll need a little persuasion to talk," he says with a low voice.

  I sit up straight to see the man grab Beth around the neck as he brings the blade up to her throat. "How about now, huh? Have I got your attention?"

  "Please don't hurt her," I say as I swing my entire body to him. "She shouldn't be here. Just let her go."

  "Not a chance. Not until you admit the truth."

  My own throat closes up as I see the knife press against Beth's. Blood draws slightly from her youthful skin. How can he do this?

  "Tell me!" the man yells.

  My lip quivers. Tears flow down my cheeks, clouding my vision. "Please, don't—"

  "I said, tell me," he repeats as his muscles flex and tense up, ready to end a young girl's life in one swift movement.

  "Okay!" I scream. "I'll talk. I'll confess everything. Just don't hurt her, please."

  The knife eases away from Beth but stays close by. The man points at the cell phone and nods for me to express my story into the camera.

  I take a deep breath and focus on the device as he leans over to adjust the angle slightly. I let out a lengthy sigh before beginning my story. "My name is Marie Williams, and I... well, I accidentally shot a young boy named Tommy Price five years ago in a gas station near Long Beach, California. After the accident, the kid got placed in an induced coma in hospital and was kept alive via a life-support machine."

  I squeeze my eyes shut but my tears can't be stopped. A dam made of concrete and steel couldn't prevent the flow of pain that is surging through my soul in this moment. I am dead inside.

  "Continue," the man says.

  I open my raw eyes and feel the air fall out of my lungs. I take a few seconds and glance up to Beth. She won't so much as look in my direction. Despite having a knife near her throat, she'd rather ignore the threat on her life to avoid eye contact with me.

  "I went in to rob the gas station to impress my boyfriend Zachary Sanchez. The store was empty, not a single customer stood inside. I held up the station's attendant without a fuss. He was distracted on his cell until he saw me in a mask pointing Zach's gun at him. The till got emptied fast. I could tell it wasn't this guy's first night being robbed, so I sent him to the back room away from any hidden panic buttons near the register."

  "It was all going to plan, I take it," the man says.

  "You could say that. I didn't plan this thing in the slightest. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision I can't believe I ever undertook. Things went okay to begin with, then it all fell to pieces. I was on my way out, grabbing a few items for the road, when the attendant came running out with a shotgun. I spotted him at the last second and ducked down behind the end of an aisle. He fired at me anyway and sprayed the store. His own stock went flying everywhere. Apparently he'd had enough of being robbed. I was the straw that broke the cam
el's back. Still, I returned fire to send him backward into the rear room so I could get the hell out of there, but he wouldn't stop. He kept moving at me, one shell after the other until he'd reloaded a few more into the gun. I had no choice but to crawl to the other side of the store to escape."

  I take a moment to close my eyes and breathe, knowing what's coming next. The man allows me this brief window to compose myself.

  "I sent a few more rounds toward the attendant as he did the same to me until I ran out of aisles. I could see he would come around the next corner and run me down with another volley of shots, so I figured it was time to stop his attack before he killed me. Everything seemed to slow down. I dropped to the edge of the aisle as he approached and fired my last bullet. But it wasn't the attendant standing there. It was a young boy, no older than five or six. I shot him in the chest and… I didn't mean to. I never saw him. He was just a scared little child trying to escape the store. He got caught up in a gun fight between two stupid adults who should have known better."

  I feel the air drain from my lungs, forcing me to take in large gulps to recover. After a few decent breaths in, I refocus. I have to finish.

  "I froze on the spot as my pistol fell to the ground. My legs didn't run to the kid to see if he was okay. Instead, I sat on my knees, powerless to move. Zach came in a second later and got me. He dragged me away before I could find the courage to help that little boy. We fled the scene before the police or an ambulance could arrive. I found out later that the kid's name was Tommy Price and that they placed him into a coma after doctors operated on his small body to save his life."

  Beth can't stop moving her head left and right as if she is searching for a way to escape the room. I can tell she hates to be breathing the same air as me. I don't blame her.

  "The police caught up with us within a day and arrested me for attempted robbery and attempted murder. There was no way they'd let me get off easy. I was set to go to prison for a long damn time, but at the last second a federal agent came in and offered me a deal. One I couldn't resist. One I didn't deserve, but it saved me nonetheless while sending Zach away for life."

  My head hangs low as the weight of my confession drags me down. I don't feel good admitting the truth. There's no cathartic breakthrough cleansing my soul. Instead, the worst part of my history has resurfaced. I'm a monster.

  The man's strong hand grabs me by the chin to lift my face up as he squats down. He wants me to look him in the eyes when he kills me. I realize he has let go of Beth entirely ,her hands cut free and that she is standing behind him her hands cut free. It seems he's finished using her to get to me. I try to make eye contact with the scared young woman but fail to catch her focus. Now that she knows the truth, she won't ever speak to me again.

  I look to the man and see the knife inch closer. "Please," I say, "just get it over with. I deserve to die."

  The knife presses up into my neck. This is the end.

  Chapter 32

  The tension mounts in the man's muscles as he pulls back harder on my hair. The knife at my throat presses deeper and deeper against my skin. Through what little air I can muster, I provoke him to do what he came here to do.

  "Go on, kill me. You know you want to."

  "Not yet. Not until I've broken you. Not until you've suffered."

  A thickness ties a knot in my stomach as I swallow his threat.

  "Now that I have your confession, it's time to share these words with the world."

  "What do you mean?" I blurt.

  "We’ll see what society has to say about someone who shoots a child and runs away like a coward."

  Is he saying what I think he's saying? Is he going to spread the video online?

  The knife slackens, letting me breathe again. As I regain control over my lungs, I stare at him in wonderment, certain I understand his intentions. If I'm right, my world is about to come crashing down harder than it already has.

  The man doesn't speak as he paces circles around me. I don't know what else to call this demon who won't spare me from shame as he moves in close to place a solid grip on my shoulder.

  I want this all to be over. There's no way in hell I’ll watch my confession play out online. I can imagine the comments poorly typed out by judgmental strangers, the endless stream of op-eds blasted on the web, fueling the mob to take over and demand blood. "Please don't," I beg.

  "Shut up!" he yells. He releases his grip on me and shoves my body to the ground. I lay sideways on the disgusting carpet and stare up to the coffee table, my hands bound behind my back. I can just see the cell phone he used to record everything sitting on the glass surface. Instead of killing me and putting me out of my misery, Zach has paid this man to put me through some personal hell first with the video the device captured. I can't let that happen. I won't.

  My lungs go into overdrive as my eyes dart around the room. The air comes and goes from my chest in short uncontrolled blasts. The walls close in as the floor presses hard against my face.

  "Get up," he says as he kicks me in the ribs, pushing the air out of my lungs.

  A shudder escapes me as he grabs my wrists at the small of my back and lifts me up with no effort. I feel so weak in his arms.

  "Now you’ll sit here and watch as I upload that little video we created to YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, and any other social media platform that comes to mind."

  "Please... don't," is all I can mutter.

  The man smiles as he glances at Beth. "Do it."

  "Do what?" she asks, stunned.

  "You're going to put this file online for me," he says, jabbing the knife in her direction.

  She stares at him without saying a word. Her inaction is an answer he doesn't seem to appreciate.

  "Do what he says, Beth," I call out without looking at her. I can't have him harming Beth again as much as I don't want my worst nightmare coming to light.

  "Okay," she replies. With a few shuffles, she moves over to the coffee table and grabs the device.

  All I can manage is to watch as she taps out the necessary commands to upload the video to the world. I shake my head and hear myself beg.

  "Please, no. Don't do this," I plead with him. "You can do anything to me. Just don't put my confession online for the world to see. Please."

  Beth sets the cell down on the coffee table. The tiny device has the ability to bring my life down to its lowest level—something I never thought possible. Her eyes dance between mine and the man's. "It's ready," she says with a shaky voice. "You just have to tap this button." She points at the screen.

  The man reaches down to the phone and picks it up from the stack of coasters that were being used to prop it upright. This is it. He holds the power to share my dark past with the world in his palm. I have to stop him. This can't happen.

  He turns to Beth. "Why don't you press the button and—"

  I charge at his extended arm holding the cheap cell and drive my body into his mid-section until I sense the phone falling out of his grip.

  "What the hell?" the man bellows, adding confusion to the room. I drop to my knees as the cell bounces off my chest and falls to the floor. Before I know it, I roll to the ground and onto my back to feel the device slide into my zip-tied grasp. Not having a second to spare, I spin the rest of the way over to my knees and push up into a run.

  I don't let the yelling voice behind slow me down as I charge for the only target I have in mind, the idea coming to me as I go. Beth stumbles sideways and falls over in the trails behind as the man charges through and after me. He doesn't know where I'm going in this tiny house.

  "Stop!" he yells. His hands reach out to the cell in my grip, so I clench it tighter, closing both fists over it as much as possible until I find the bathroom and do a quick one-eighty spin toward the toilet. I fall to the floor and land on the bowl, releasing the phone behind me into the water in an instant.

  "No!" the man shouts. "What the hell have you done?" He tries to thrust me to the side, but I stand up o
n two throbbing legs and block his path as best I can while my arms are still bound behind my back. It works until he grips me by the shoulders and pulls me out of the way, only to shove me to the floor with rage.

  "You stupid bitch!" he yells as I see him dig his hands into the toilet bowl with a splash to retrieve the cell. It slips from his grasp through his wet gloves and falls back in a second time. "Dammit."

  I lie on my side, staring up at him while he retrieves the device again and pads it dry with his shirt, but we both know it's too late. The cheap burner he used won't be waterproof like a lot of the newer flagship phones out there. As he attempts to save the device from beads of water that are working their way inside and over the cell's chipboard, he stares at me with more intensity than before.

  "You'd better pray that footage is still on there, Marie. Else I can guarantee you're in for a world of hurt."

  Chapter 33

  I attempt to catch my breath in the living room. The man placed me down on the sofa and bound my ankles with another zip tie. He pulled it as tight as he could across my skin as a scowl dug its way into his face. With focus in his eyes, he watches over me while attempting to save the cell I dumped into the toilet. Beth sits beside me.

  "The screen’s getting worse," he growls out loud. "It's not accepting my input at all. I can't upload the damn video."

  Apparently, the phone lost all capability to work when water flooded the components inside. The damage is giving me hope that the moisture will destroy the footage of my confession. There's no way in hell I'll ever say those words again in front of a camera. I'd rather die.

  It still boggles my mind that I even said them in the first place. I always assumed I'd take what I did to the grave with me and tell no one who didn't already know. I guess I never thought a day like this would come.

 

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