Over You

by Christine Kersey

  “I just want to talk to you.” He squeezed her arm harder.

  “No!” Jessica kicked his legs. He grunted but didn’t release her.

  He dragged her to a chair in the living room and tried forcing her to sit. She battled him every step of the way.

  “I need you to sit down,” he yelled as he swung his fist toward her head, connecting with her skull.

  Jessica slumped into the chair, unconscious. When she woke a short time later, she found her wrists and ankles bound with duct tape, and Douglas Harrington sitting directly in front of her. Although he’d left her arms in front of her, he had bound them tightly. She tried pulling them apart, but they wouldn’t budge, and her head pounded as she met his eyes.

  “Good. You’re awake. Now, I want you to tell me what you know about William Donohoe.”

  Terrified, Jessica had trouble making the right words come out of her mouth. “He’s going to be here soon.”

  Douglas didn’t look concerned. “Who’s going to be here soon? Kyle?”

  Jessica nodded, surprised that he knew who she was thinking of.

  He laughed, and the sound of it sent fear coursing through her.

  “No, Jessica. He’s not. You see, I spoke to him earlier. He told me he was going to be available this afternoon while he’s waiting for the tile to set, and I hired him to do some work at one of my businesses. He was going to start there as soon as he was done here.” Douglas smirked. “And wouldn’t you know it? I watched him leave here not long ago. Now, I need you to answer my question.”

  “My fiancé is on his way over.” Jessica hoped she sounded convincing.

  Douglas smiled. “That might be true, except that I saw him leaving town right after he brought you home. How was that lunch date?”

  “How do you know we had lunch?” He knew too much, and Jessica knew she was in serious trouble.

  “Right after I saw you leave Thomas Naylor’s house, I followed you.”

  Jessica’s mouth went dry.

  “Now, are there any other men you’re expecting?”

  Jessica didn’t answer, not wanting to admit that no one else would be coming.

  “Okay. Now we can get down to business.” He paused. “I know you know all about my parents, because I found the letters in your room.”

  “How did you find them?” Jessica asked, finally finding her voice.

  “I’m very good at finding what I’m looking for.”

  “But how did you know I even had them?”

  “You and your aunt Ellen talk too much. And I have a lot of friends.”

  “Leave my aunt out of this.” Jessica suddenly felt fearful for her aunt’s safety as he obviously knew who she was.

  “Right now you need to be concerned about yourself.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to know what you know.”

  She didn’t want to admit that she believed he had killed both William and Teal, but since he knew she had read the letters, she could admit what she’d learned by reading them. “I know that William Donohoe is your real father.”

  “It might have been his DNA that created me,” Douglas sneered. “But my father is Charles Harrington.”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone your secret. I promise.”

  “I think we both know there’s more to it than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “While you were at lunch, I went back to Thomas’s house and had a little chat with him.”

  Jessica’s heart felt like it was sinking into her stomach.

  “He told me what he told you,” Douglas said, a calm look on his face.

  “He didn’t tell me anything.”

  Douglas laughed. “There’s no need to lie to me, Jessica. I know you figured it out.”

  She shook her head violently. “No, I don’t know anything.”

  “I haven’t underestimated you. I know you’re a smart woman. You know that neither William nor my mother’s deaths were accidents.” He leaned a little closer. “Don’t you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Jessica asked frantically, trying to convince him she didn’t know anything.

  He frowned. “If you’re telling me the truth, then it’s just too bad. Because now I’ve told you something that I just can’t have you repeating.”

  “I won’t! I promise I won’t!”

  He chuckled. “A promise. How nice. Like the promise my mother made to my father to be faithful. That didn’t last long, did it?”

  “That’s not my fault,” Jessica said. “Please let me go.”

  “I can’t let you go. Not now. You know too much.” He paused, thoughtful. “The question is, what does your aunt know?”

  “Nothing. I haven’t talked to her since I talked to Thomas.”

  He frowned, like he didn’t believe her.

  “I’m telling the truth!”

  “As opposed to before when you said you didn’t know anything?”

  Jessica couldn’t live with herself if anything happened to her aunt. “Yes.”

  “Yes? Like, yes you figured it out?”

  “Yes, okay!? Yes, I figured it out, but I didn’t tell my aunt.”

  “Okay. Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “Why did you kill them? Why?”

  “They both betrayed my father and they wanted to drag me down with them.”

  “What do you mean? How would that drag you down?”

  “You saw what William wrote in his letter to my mother. He wanted to tell me he was my father. And he did. But I had a father. A very successful father. I didn’t need this old man, who I didn’t even know, making claims that would destroy my future.”

  “So you killed him?”

  Douglas pressed his lips together for a moment. “Yes.” He paused. “And I’d do it again.”

  “But your mother? Why did you kill her?”

  “Come on, Jessica. Think.”

  “Because she figured out what you’d done.”

  “Yes, that’s the main reason.”

  “Why else?” Jessica tried to keep him talking as she frantically tried to think of a way to escape.

  “Because she was a slut. She was married to my father and she cheated on him. For a long time.”

  “You mother called herself B in her letters. What did that stand for?” As she spoke, her gaze surreptitiously searched the room for something to defend herself with.

  Douglas laughed. “You didn’t figure that one out, huh? Teal is the name of a bird. William came up with the cutsie nickname ‘Birdie’. Isn’t that sweet?”

  Jessica nodded as she glanced at a heavy lamp sitting on a nearby table. If I can grab that, she thought, I might be able to hit him with it. “Douglas,” Jessica said, pretending like she was his friend. “I understand how you must have felt. I can’t really even blame you for what you did. If you let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone what I know.” She paused. “Besides, I don’t have any proof. Who would believe me?”

  “That’s true,” he said.

  Jessica felt a sliver of hope.

  “But I can’t take the chance,” he continued.

  “Look. I’ll leave town. Tonight. Now. And I’ll never come back.” She heard the desperation in her voice and knew he did too.

  Douglas shook his head. “I’d like to trust you, Jessica. Really I would. But I just can’t.”

  “If something happens to me, Thomas Naylor will know it was you.”

  “Oh, I guess you haven’t heard. Poor Thomas. He had a heart attack today. He keeled right over.”

  Jessica felt all hope slipping away.

  “Now I feel satisfied that I know what I need to.” He pulled a knife out of a sheath that had been hidden behind his back.

  Jessica screamed and began kicking her bound legs toward him.

  “Stop,” he yelled. “I just want to cut the tape off of your ankles.”

  Jessica stopped struggling and let him cut the tape, then she held out her wrists.
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  “I just need you to be able to walk,” he said, ignoring her outstretched hands. He put the knife back in the sheath, then gripped one of her upper arms and pulled her up from the chair.

  Jessica dropped to the ground, becoming dead weight, but Douglas held on.

  “Get up,” he growled, then he dragged her across the floor.

  They were getting closer to the lamp that she had focused on earlier. “I’ll walk,” she said.

  He held on as she got to her feet, then pulled her forward. The lamp was nearly within reach. As she came alongside it, she abruptly twisted away from Douglas, which loosened his grip, although didn’t break it, and awkwardly grabbed the lamp with her bound hands. She yanked it hard, unplugging the cord, then swung it toward Douglas’s head. He threw his arm up to block it, releasing her. The lamp slammed against his arm, which gave Jessica the moment she needed to dash toward the front door.

  She gripped the knob and turned it hard, but the door didn’t open. In abject terror, she saw the deadbolt had been locked. Her hands shaking, she turned the lever into the unlocked position, but as her hands wrapped around the doorknob for another try, Douglas slammed into her, shoving her hard against the front door.

  “I didn’t want to have to use this,” he said in her ear, jamming a gun against her side. “But I will if I have to.”

  Jessica felt a sob climb up her throat as she knew her opportunity for escape had ended.

  “Now, let’s walk up the stairs together.”

  He yanked her by the arm and turned her toward the staircase, then gave her a shove to move her along. Keeping the gun pressed to her back, he followed her up the stairs.

  Jessica walked as slowly as he would let her, trying to postpone the inevitable. When they reached the landing, he turned her around so that they were both facing down the stairs. He stood behind her and kept the gun pressed into her side.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  “I think you know very well what I’m going to do. It worked so well with William.”

  Jessica looked down the long wooden staircase to the tile floor at the bottom. She recalled how sore she was after only falling down a few steps the day before—and that had been onto carpet—and felt fresh horror rush through her. She wished with all her heart that she had never found those letters. She closed her eyes and thought of Kyle, and was glad he would be happy with Melanie.

  Suddenly the front door burst open. Jessica’s eyes shot open to see who it was. “Kyle?” she breathed, unbelieving.

  “Douglas, what are you doing?” Kyle yelled from the base of the stairs.

  “He has a gun,” Jessica shrieked.

  “Back off, Kyle,” Douglas said.

  The pressure of the gun left Jessica’s side, but then she felt it pressed against her right temple. Douglas’s other hand held tight to her left arm.

  “Jessica!” Kyle’s voice was frantic.

  Jessica saw the look of utter terror on Kyle’s face and briefly wondered if he’d miss her when she died.

  “Walk,” Douglas growled in her ear.

  She looked down and saw she was only a few steps from the top stair. Douglas shoved her and she shuffled forward as little as possible.

  “Move,” he said as he pushed her again.

  She couldn’t stop the forward motion, but reached out for the railing with her bound hands. Her hands had become slick with sweat and she had trouble getting a grip, but was able to stop before toppling down the stairs, although her feet were hanging halfway over the edge. When she looked at Kyle, she saw he had started coming up the stairs and was on the second step from the bottom.

  “Stop,” Douglas shouted.

  In one step, Kyle climbed two more stairs. Douglas moved the gun from Jessica’s temple to point at Kyle.

  “No,” Jessica moaned as Kyle took another large step forward, putting him about a third of the way up the stairs.

  “If you want to do it this way, fine,” Douglas said.

  Jessica felt a slight shift in the way Douglas stood and feared he was about to pull the trigger. In that moment she pushed backward into Douglas as hard as she could. The gun went off and she felt her feet slipping out from beneath her. She tried to throw her arms out for balance, but with her hands bound together, all she did was throw her arms above her head. She fell backwards and felt an explosion of pain as her back hit the hard edge of a wooden stair. As she bounced downward, her head hit the railing and her back slammed against stair after stair.

  Finally she stopped, but realized she hadn’t reached the bottom. Dazed by the fall, it took a moment to understand that Kyle had caught her and kept her from falling further.

  “Jess,” he said. “Are you okay? We need to leave. Now.”

  Jessica felt like she’d been beaten and found it difficult to move.

  A bullet flew past her and she twisted around as best she could and looked up the stairs at Douglas, who was pointing his gun directly at them. He pulled the trigger again and this time Jessica felt an incredible burst of pain in her thigh. She glanced down and saw a large circle of blood blooming on her jeans.

  “He shot me,” she stammered as she tried to press her bound hands against the wound. Sticky warmth filled her hands and she felt herself getting dizzy.

  Kyle suddenly shoved her behind him, using himself as a shield. Then he turned away from Douglas, scooped her up, and moved them down the stairs. Another bullet flew past them and Jessica was terrified that Douglas would hit Kyle too. They managed to reach the bottom of the stairs, and Kyle carried her out the front door. Douglas wasn’t far behind. Kyle raced down the porch steps, but instead of running to his truck, which would be right in Douglas’s line of fire, he turned sharply left and raced to the corner of the house, then turned left again until he was at the back corner.

  All Jessica could think about was Douglas killing them both and no one finding their bodies for days. She knew she was slowing Kyle down, but also knew there was no way she could run on her own. Gratitude for Kyle swept over her, but with the duct tape keeping her wrists fastened together, she couldn’t even put her arms around him. She tried to make herself less awkward to carry, but could barely move with the excruciating pain shooting down her back, and the gunshot wound in her leg.

  When Kyle reached the French doors at the back of the house, he tried the knob but it was locked. He set Jessica down on the far side of the porch, then took a step back and kicked the door. Nothing happened. He kicked several more times before the glass shattered, making a tremendous noise that Jessica was certain Douglas must have had heard. She looked past Kyle but didn’t see Douglas, which almost scared her more than seeing him. At least then she would know where he was.

  Kyle picked her up and carried her through the broken door and paused in the kitchen.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  He set her in a kitchen chair, grabbed a kitchen towel and pressed it to her thigh. “Hold this here.”

  Jessica used her bound hands to press the towel against her leg, then watched as Kyle pulled a knife from a butcher block and cut the duct tape from her wrists.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, punched some numbers, and held it out to her. “Tell the police what’s happening.”

  Jessica held the towel against the bullet wound with one hand and took the phone with the other. Her hand shook as she pressed the phone to her ear. “We need to hide somewhere while we’re waiting for the police,” she said.

  “Well, I’m going to try to hide you, at least.” Kyle gazed into Jessica’s eyes and tried to smile.

  “What about you?”

  Kyle shrugged, then picked her up.

  Jessica moaned in pain at the movement.

  “I’m sorry,” Kyle said, as he carried her into the library.

  The dispatcher answered the call and Jessica quickly explained what was happening, then gave the address.

  Kyle stopped and looked around, then use
d his foot to pull the desk chair away from the space under the desk, then he gently put Jessica in the small space.

  He knelt next to her. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Before she had a chance to say anything, he pushed the desk chair partially back in, then hurried out of the room. It was an old desk and the only opening was where the chair slid in. Jessica tried to press her back against the wooden wall but pain shot up her back at the slightest movement and her leg throbbed. She stayed where she was and listened for any indication of what was happening to Kyle.

  The dispatcher asked her what was going on. “I’m hiding under a desk,” she whispered. “But Douglas is still out there. I’m worried about Kyle.”

  “The police are on their way and should be there any minute.”

  “Please, please hurry,” she whispered, trying to silence the sobs that insisted on pushing their way out of her mouth. After a moment, she heard sirens approaching. Then she heard a gunshot coming from somewhere outside. “Oh no,” she moaned.

  “What is it?” the dispatcher asked.

  “The gun. I heard it go off. I have to see if Kyle’s okay.” Frantic with worry, Jessica pushed the desk chair away.

  “You need to stay where you are.”

  “No.”

  “Ma’am, you need to stay hidden. That’s the safest . . .”

  Jessica pressed the Off button, cutting off the dispatcher’s instructions, then slid the phone into her back pocket. She managed to crawl out of her hiding place and tried to stand, but a sharp pain in her back knocked her to the floor. Determined to make sure Kyle was all right, she crawled across the floor toward the window. Once there, she managed to pull herself up enough to look out into the front yard, but she couldn’t see either Kyle or Douglas. She watched as an ambulance and three police cars raced to the house, and officers swarmed out with their guns drawn.

  Certain that Kyle had been shot, Jessica was beside herself with worry. Using what little strength she had, she laboriously crawled toward the front door. Suddenly, strong arms lifted her from behind and she was convinced she would be killed. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth.