Echoes Beneath (The Truth Series Book 2)

by J. A. Owenby

  Xander frowned at me. Was I getting through to him? Would he consider taking me with him?

  “I just can’t,” he replied. “I think the baby was the last straw, and if you’re still pregnant and I take you with me, we have the same problem. I can’t trust you, not only with Mike and Agnus, but to not get yourself knocked up. I don’t like kids, and I never wanted them. And, if you’ll recall, I murdered my own brother. Why in the world would you think I wouldn’t do it again?” he asked.

  He paused as he lowered himself until he was a mere inch away from my face. “What makes you think I haven’t murdered other people, Lacey?”

  “What? No, that’s the coke talking,” I whispered. “And if you’re really going to do this, then I want one last thing from you.”

  “What?” he asked, surprised.

  “Kiss me goodbye.”

  His eyes searched my face for a long moment, and then he closed the small gap between us. His lips lingered for a second longer than I’d expected and I took my chance. I tilted my chin up and bit the end of his nose as hard as I could. He doubled up and grabbed his face. As he leaned forward, I pulled my head back and smacked his forehead with as much force as possible. I gasped from the pain in my head as I laid back on the floor.

  “You bitch!” he yelled as he fell backward and blood dripped down his face. I watched and prayed that he would pass out; then maybe I could somehow make it to the phone and dial 911.

  His body went limp and he laid still on the floor. I began rolling my way toward his nightstand. My head throbbed so bad that black dots danced before my eyes. I’d almost knocked myself out, too.

  I reached the bed, positioned my hands on the bed frame, and pulled my feet underneath me. I took a deep breath and used my legs to push myself up and onto his bed. I stared at the phone and then glanced back at his motionless body. I leaned forward and knocked the phone from its cradle. Thank God for push-button phones. I leaned into the phone and pushed the nine with my nose. I heard it beep and aimed for the one. A beep followed it as well. I only had one more number to push. A tear slid down my cheek as the last tone sounded. I gasped as I heard the operator answer.

  “Help me, he’s going to kill me,” I whispered, praying he wouldn’t regain consciousness.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can barely hear you. Please say it again,” the operator encouraged.

  “He’s going to kill me, please hurry. 842 Hickory—” I screamed as Xander ripped the phone from the wall and jerked my hair so hard I fell off the bed and landed with a thud on the floor.

  “My God! I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “Xander, stop, you can’t hurt the baby and me anymore. Please,” I cried.

  “Yeah, you might still be pregnant, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You just signed your death certificate.”

  “No! You can’t do this!”

  “Oh yes, I can, and I have to do it now,” he said as he slapped the piece of tape back over my mouth.

  He turned toward the closet and began splashing the room with gasoline. The stench burned my nostrils as I watched him continue to pour it into the hallway. I heard footsteps descending the stairs and imagined him pouring gasoline through the kitchen and his beautiful living room. Fear gripped me as I realized how quickly the curtains and rugs would catch fire, then the walls, then the wood floors and the staircase. It wouldn’t take long before it traveled through the entire house.

  A small glimmer of hope rose inside me as I heard footsteps coming my way. Had he realized what he was doing and changed his mind? Had he come back for me?

  “It’s all done. One single match will have this place up in flames,” he said. He stared at me as I laid on the floor and silently pleaded with him. “Goodbye, Lacey.”

  My heart sank as Xander turned and walked out of the bedroom. His footsteps echoed through the hallway and down the stairs. I don’t know why I tried to scream again; maybe it was just instinct. I gave one final attempt and tried to pull my wrists and ankles apart, but the tape was too tight.

  I’m not sure how long I laid there. The smoke crept up the hallway and through the door. The shadows of the flames danced off the walls not far behind it. I had no way to escape. Even if I could make it to the window across the room, I couldn’t open it, nor would I have any way to land safely after a two-story fall.

  I laid my head down and closed my eyes. If I’d only gone with George, if I hadn’t told Xander I was pregnant, I’d be out of this house and somewhere safe.

  Tears continued to slip down my cheeks as I grasped at any possible way of getting out of the house before it burned down. I gave one more tug at my bound hands, but it was no use.

  My mind turned to Emma. Our last conversation had been an argument. I’d been bullheaded, and I hadn’t called her back when I should have. Memories of my last day in Arkansas with her family ran through my head. I’d never have a chance to make it right. I hoped she knew I loved her; she was more than my best friend. She was my family.

  I squeezed my eyes closed even tighter as I thought about George showing up on the porch. He didn’t have to say a word to me; his expression had said it all. The sadness that filled his eyes when I told him I’d decided to stay tugged at my heart. I wished George and the girls really knew how much they’d saved me. They were my first friends in Oregon, and I loved them.

  I had so many regrets in my life, and I wasn’t even twenty. I couldn’t imagine if I’d continued down this path. Maybe Xander had done us both a favor. What kind of mother would I have been? I had nothing to offer. I was empty and broken.

  I’d heard that most people died of smoke inhalation before the flames ever reached them. I prayed I’d go that way. I peered around the room one last time, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. I could feel the heat coming from the stairs, and I took another deep breath through my nose. The only favor I could do for myself now was to die before the flames reached me.

  I jerked my head off the floor as I heard something. I strained to listen as footsteps echoed in the hallway, but I couldn’t tell if they were coming this way or going down. I strained against the tape on my wrists one more time as the room began to spin and my eyes fluttered closed.

  Chapter 50

  “Lacey! Honey!”

  I gasped as the tape was ripped from my mouth.

  “Mama? Is that you?” I asked and coughed. Dark spots danced across my vision, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I opened them again as Mama’s image shimmered into Emma’s.

  “Emma?” The smoke had entered the bedroom now, making it hard to breathe. My vision blurred again as a firefighter walked in.

  “Do you have her?” he yelled, his voice muffled by his breathing apparatus.

  “Yeah, I’ll get her out,” a loud voice right above me yelled back.

  I glanced around the room and tried to make sense of what was happening.

  “I’m here, don’t you worry,” Mama said as her image reappeared.

  “Please help me.”

  “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you now.”

  The house filled with voices as the flames continued to crackle all around us.

  “How did you know? How did you know where I was?” I asked Mama.

  “I’ll explain everything later—let’s just get out of here right now,” she said as she cut through the thick tape on my ankles and then my hands. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. My arms and legs were completely numb. I whimpered as the flames got closer.

  “I want you to know that I love you, and I’ve always loved you. I’m so proud of you. You came out to Oregon and started all over and pursued your passion. You followed your heart, and I never did. I never had the courage that you do. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I struggled to find the words, and the last few years were so difficult. We just kept growing apart. I know that we haven’t agreed on a lot of things, but I wanted you to be happy. I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes I made. I’m so sorry. You’re my baby, and I’
m going to make it up to you now.”

  I cried as Mama scooped me off the floor and into her arms. I wasn’t sure if we would make it out of the fire or not, but I’d longed to hear those words from her mouth for almost my entire life. No matter what happened, if we got out of the house or died together, my heart had just healed a little bit.

  I leaned my head into her shoulder and buried my face into her neck. The familiar smell of her perfume lingered on her skin. My mind flipped through memories like a Rolodex as she carried me out of Xander’s bedroom.

  I smiled as I remembered how Mama had read me a book and rocked me every day at naptime when I was little. She did that until I was in the first grade, and then everything began to change. I wanted that again with her. I wanted her to love me again.

  Voices drifted through the house as Mama carried me down the stairs. The heat radiated as she moved toward the front door. The orange-and-red flames licked up the staircase we’d just come down. I watched through squinted, tear-filled eyes as the upstairs hallway burned. I smiled as I thought about the first time George and I had stayed the night in this house. How had everything gone so wrong?

  My head swirled as I struggled to stay awake. I was so tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of crying. My heart had been broken more times than I could take. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I couldn’t live like this.

  “I love you, Mama,” I mumbled as I took a breath and slipped away into the darkness.

  Chapter 51

  Mama used to tell me stories she’d read about people dying and experiencing a bright-white light, and then coming back to tell everyone what heaven was like. She said they reported feeling so much love and peace that they didn’t want to come back. If she were in a bad mood, she’d also tell me how she couldn’t wait to die so she’d really be loved. Apparently, Patsy, Krissy, and I were never enough, but I knew that already.

  Since I’d grown up in a religious home, I honestly hadn’t considered the possibility that I’d even make it to heaven. I’d messed up the short life I’d lived so badly. I’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock, not to mention all the times Mama told me I was possessed. I guess it all just stuck.

  I figured if I was doomed to an eternity in hell I’d at least live my life the way I wanted in the meantime, but it didn’t turn out that way at all. I’d hurt people, myself, and my unborn baby. And now, it was over. I allowed myself to surrender and sink into oblivion.

  I squinted as a white light pierced through the darkness. As I raised my hand to shield my eyes, a sharp pinch traveled through the back of it. I blinked my tired eyes and tried to adjust to the light, but it was too strong, and I was forced to turn my head away. I frowned as the pinch in the back of my hand returned. Wasn’t heaven supposed to be pain-free? It definitely wasn’t: my head throbbed, my lungs hurt, and my lower abdomen cramped. If I wasn’t in heaven, was I in hell? I panicked as I tried to understand.

  I glanced around as my vision cleared enough for me to realize I hadn’t made it to heaven at all. Not even close. Fear ripped through me as I realized that something was on my face. I frantically grabbed the mask and tore it off. I blinked and tried to focus through the grit, and my mind kicked into overdrive. The memories ran full speed ahead: the baby, the fight, Xander kicking me in the stomach, the fire. My heart pounded as all the pieces spilled into place.

  Oh my God, Xander set the house on fire with me in it. He tried to murder me.

  What in the hell kept stinging? I glanced at the back of my hand, located the culprit, tugged out the IV, and tossed it away. I sat up as my mind began to clear. I was in the hospital? How? Who brought me here? What happened? Where was Xander? Oh my God. I had to go. If he were anywhere near me, he’d finish what he started.

  Panic clutched my heart, and I grabbed at my chest. I had to be strong. if I’d just made it out of a burning house alive, I could find my clothes and sneak out of the hospital.

  But before I could make it out of bed, strong hands grabbed my shoulders and pinned me down. I screamed as I fought against them, but my throat was raw and scratchy. My voice only came out as a hoarse shout.

  “No! Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” I swung my arms and tried to free myself from his grip, but he was too strong. I could only hope a doctor or nurse had heard me. If anyone had and they came in, I’d tell them he’d tried to kill me. I’d have them call George to come get me. He and the girls could sneak me to safety. I wouldn’t screw up this time. I’d just received a second chance.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re at the hospital.”

  I froze at the sound of his voice. My body trembled as I swallowed the bile that had risen from my stomach.

  “Lace, it’s okay. I’m here,” he whispered.

  My mouth dropped as I stared into the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen in my life.

  “Walker?” I gasped.

  Lacey’s journey continues in book three, coming soon!

  Author’s Note

  Dear reader,

  Thank you for continuing to read Lacey’s story. I appreciate and value you.

  Lacey’s story happens every day. In 2014, twenty people were victims of intimate-partner violence every minute. Approximately 4,774,000 women in the U.S. experience physical violence every year. It’s a nightmare of an epidemic.

  If you think people in abusive relationships are weak and should “just leave,” please know that approximately 75 percent of the women killed by their batterers are murdered when they attempt to leave the relationship, or after they’ve already left it. No one wants to be abused, and it’s not a weakness. It’s fear.

  I was one of the lucky ones. I got out and hid for three terrifying years, and today my life looks wonderfully different. I reached out for help, and I was determined to change my life.

  There is hope and help—just take the first step and never look back. Please contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (1-800-787-3224 TTY), or online at www.thehotline.org.

  In hope,

  J.A. Owenby

  About the Author

  J.A. Owenby lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband and two cats.

  She's a published author of six short stories, and she is currently working on her third full-length novel. She also runs her own business as a professional resume writer and interview coach—she helps people find jobs they love.

  J.A. is an avid reader of thrillers, romance, new adult, and young adult novels. She loves music, movies, and good wine. And call her crazy, but she loves the rainy Pacific Northwest; she gets her best story ideas while listening to the rain pattering against the windows in front of the fireplace.

  You can follow the progress of her upcoming novel on Facebook at Author J.A. Owenby and on Twitter @jaowenby.