I put my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands. “You don’t believe me. And I can’t say I blame you since this is a mental hospital and I’m a patient here.”
My soft laugh is anything but amused. Daniel hands me a tissue from a side table, and I wipe my nose.
“Hey. I believe you, okay? I do.”
I look over at him, shaking my head. “But how can you? I don’t even know if I believe myself. I just know that last night . . . it felt so real, and there was a man with a cloth over my mouth and a stinging in my arm.”
He turns his body to face mine. “What kind of stinging? Where?”
I put my fingers on the sore spot, and he gets up and walks over to his desk.
“Can you come over here?” he says.
When I move to stand behind his desk with him, he pulls the blinds all the way up and puts on his reading glasses. He leans down and examines the spot on my arm, his brow wrinkled with disapproval.
“I see something. It looks like a needle mark.”
I pull my arm back with disbelief. “A needle mark?”
He nods, looking grim.
“Can you close the blinds?” I ask, my eyes filling with tears again.
Daniel and I stand behind his desk, facing each other. There was a small part of me that hoped this was all in my mind, maybe brought on by post-traumatic stress disorder. It’s real, though. Painfully real.
He puts his hands on my upper arms, rubbing them. “You need to tell me everything, Allison. I haven’t wanted to push you, but if you’re in danger, I need to know everything so I can help you.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “The people who are after me are from Chicago. They’re the ones who killed my sister.”
“But they didn’t kill you that night, so why do they want to now?”
“I was strangled. They tried to kill me. My neighbor yelled through the door that he’d called the police, and they left.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“Yeah, I know who they are,” I whisper, looking down at my feet.
“And that’s why they want you dead? Because you can identify them as the people who killed Ava?”
“Either that, or they’ve figured out the truth.” My voice shakes as I finally admit it. “Which is that I am Ava.”
March 16, 2016
MY APARTMENT’S SOUND SYSTEM IS playing a soulful song by Adele. I’ve got one of her albums on, because I’m just in an Adele kind of mood.
The tray of baked ziti I ordered from my favorite Italian place is staying warm in the oven. I’m also in a pasta kind of mood, but I’m waiting for my sister to get here so we can eat together.
A knock sounds on my door, and I get up from my couch to answer it, bringing my glass of white wine with me.
“Hey,” Allison says from the other side of the door.
“Hi.”
She smiles, and I step aside so she can come in. And just like that, my mood is lifted. She’s always had that effect on me.
I close the door, and she sets down the bag she’s carrying. When I turn to face her, she reaches out to me, hugging me tight.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I really am.”
My throat tightens as I hug her back with one arm, keeping ahold of my wineglass with my other hand. “Thanks.”
She pulls back and squeezes my upper arms gently, brushing a lock of hair from my face. “Better to find out the truth now than after you married him, right?”
I nod, because she’s right. I should have listened to her suspicions about my fiancé. Of the two of us, Allison has always been the practical one. The look before you leap one. I’m impulsive, and at times, reckless. And that’s how I got into this shitty situation that requires Adele, cheesy pasta, lots of wine, and a reconciliation with my twin sister, whom I never should have been mad at to begin with.
We’ve been mirror images of each other since the day we were born. Same height, same long dark hair, same big brown eyes. And even though our personalities are different, we have common ground. We both love cheesy comedies and Little Debbie snack cakes. We agree that expensive wine is often overrated. And we’re fiercely devoted to each other.
Allison picks up the bag she brought and pulls out a bottle of white wine.
“There’s already a bottle open in the kitchen,” I tell her.
“I’ll throw this one in the fridge, then.”
She walks into the kitchen and inhales deeply. “Giordano’s ziti?”
“You know it. And breadsticks with all the cheese dips. And cinnamon bread. This is an occasion for all the carbs.”
My sister gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Ava.”
“I just wish I would have listened to you to begin with. But Dax . . .”
“He’s very charming,” she says. “And attractive. Well-off. Any woman would be flattered by his attention.”
I snort-laugh and take a sip of my wine. “Yeah, he’s well-off because of killing his competition to corner the market on drug dealing.”
Allison inhales sharply. “I didn’t realize he was that bad.”
I sit down across from her at the small kitchen table in my downtown loft. “You’ve been telling me since the first time you met him that you had a bad feeling. I thought it was just . . . I don’t know.”
“Me being jealous?” She smiles and grabs my glass, taking a sip of the wine.
“Not jealous so much as possessive. Things moved fast with me and Dax. We got engaged after seven months of dating.”
She looks down at the round, vibrant blue diamond on my left hand. “So did you confront him about what he does for a living?”
I sigh heavily. “No, but I’ll have to. He has this black, leather-bound notebook that he carries everywhere. He’s fanatical about it. Says he doesn’t trust computers because they can be hacked, so the notebook has all his important business information in it.”
Allison’s face pales. “Oh, no. Tell me you didn’t take it.”
“What else could I do? I had to know, so I took it from his apartment this morning while he was still asleep. I had this nagging sense that you were right. I missed you. We haven’t really talked in more than a month. I just wanted to know, once and for all, so I could either tell you that you were wrong or . . .”
She reaches for my hand. “You hadn’t really considered the or, had you?”
I shake my head miserably. “Dax is intense, but I never thought he was . . . a bad person, you know? He’s been so good to me.”
“So you’re sure what you saw in the notebook proves what you’re thinking?”
“I’m sure. I Googled some of the names and dates, and there were news stories about murders. And also . . .” I clear my throat, trying to force away the lump lodged there.
“What is it?”
“Women. Photos and phone numbers with . . .” I shake my head in disgust. “Notes about what they do best in bed.”
“Oh, fuck him.”
“Yeah.”
Allison looks around my kitchen. “Where’s the notebook now? Did you just look at it, or did you take it?”
“I’ve got it. I needed time to go through it.”
“Ava.” Her eyes are wide with worry. “Dax isn’t going to like this.”
“Well, I don’t like being lied to and cheated on.”
She gives me an exasperated look. “You need to get out of town, and I’m not kidding. Mail that notebook back to him and go lie low at the beach house.”
“I’ve got work to do.”
“You think Dax Caldwell will let you just hand him that notebook and your engagement ring and walk away?” Her voice is laced with anger now.
“I’ll handle him.”
I slip off the ring and admire it. “It was too good to be true, I guess. When he gave me this ring, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.”
“It’s beautiful. Maybe you should keep it.”
I set it on the table. “I don’t even want it. That asshole can save
it for his next fiancée.”
Allison picks up the ring and slides it on her finger. “Wow. This thing had to cost at least a hundred grand.”
“Blood money,” I say bitterly.
There’s a knock at my door, and I get up to answer it. Two men in dark coats give me tight smiles.
“Delivery for Miss Cole,” the stockier one says.
“Oh.” I’m not expecting anything, and my first thought is that it’s a gift from Dax, which I don’t want.
“It’s heavy,” he says, gesturing to the box in the other man’s hands. “We’ll just bring it in for you.”
He pushes past me, the other man following him in and closing the door.
“Wait, what is it?” I put up a hand as he starts opening the box.
He takes out rope and a handgun, pointing the weapon right at me. I’m stunned for a second, but then I scream, blood rushing to my head.
“What’s going on?” Allison rushes into the room, and as soon as she sees the gun, she screams, too.
“There’s two of ’em?” the tall man says to the stocky one. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know. Grab that one.”
The stocky man reaches for me, and I back up a few steps to stay out of his reach. “My purse is in the kitchen,” I say, my voice shaking. “Take anything you want.”
“This ain’t a robbery.” He grabs my arm and drags me toward the kitchen.
I have to fight. I’m not about to give in to whatever these guys have planned. I dig in my feet, scream, kick, and claw. From what I can hear, Allison is doing the same to the other man.
The man pulls something out of his coat pocket and ties it around my mouth, tossing another one to his friend. Allison’s screams quiet as she’s gagged, too.
A new wave of terror sweeps through me as my wrists are squeezed behind my back and I’m shoved down to my knees. My eyes meet Allison’s, and I see the same fear in hers.
“I’m not doin’ two,” the taller man says. “Caldwell only paid us for one.”
What does he mean? What the hell does he mean? An inner voice is screaming in my head. Caldwell. So Dax—my fiancé—sent these two men here. I hope to God he just sent them here to get me. If he knows I took the book, I’ll return it and beg for mercy.
The stocky guy looks in the box he left on the floor. “Where’s the silencer?”
Silencer? I nearly pee my pants, and I start screaming again, the sound muffled by the gag.
“I thought you had it,” the taller one says.
He glares. “I told you to bring it, dumbass.”
There’s a sharp knock on my door.
“Ava? Are you okay?”
I recognize the voice of my neighbor, Jeff. Tears fill my eyes as I scream against the fabric over my mouth.
He knocks again. “Ava? I thought I heard screaming.”
Hope surges through my chest. The two men exchange looks.
“What the fuck are we gonna do?” the tall one hisses in a whisper.
“Improvise.” The stocky one grabs my hair and whips my head back, making me cry out in pain.
“Which one of you is Ava Cole?” he growls at me.
I’m screaming against the gag, trying to tell him it’s me, my heart pounding against my rib cage as I realize what’s about to happen.
“We have to do both of ’em, don’t we?” the tall one mutters. “Caldwell better pay for the other one.”
His partner gives him a pissed-off scowl. “We’ll tell him the job’s done and that’s it, you stupid shit. You ever want to work for him again, you don’t bother him with the details. Now will you hurry the fuck up and do it? The neighbor could come back.”
He puts his face just a couple inches from mine. “Which one of you is Ava?”
His teeth are yellow, and his brown beard is patchy. Tears fall from my eyes as I nod and frantically tell him it’s me. He still has my hands pinned behind my back, so I can’t do much else.
When I look over at Allison, I see the other man tying her hands up with rope. She’s so scared. I can see it and feel it. I’m scared, too. This is all my fault. I should have listened when I first started seeing Dax and she told me she had a bad feeling about him. Or just walked away instead of taking his book.
The other man walks into the kitchen and returns with a butcher knife from the block on my counter. I scream and thrash against the man holding me. He pushes my head, and I hit the ground, his knee coming down on my back.
The tall one has the knife in front of Allison’s throat now. I’m sobbing, struggling to breathe through the gag. This is a nightmare. My sister’s life is hanging by a thread, all because I was stupid and selfish.
“Which one of you is Ava?” the tall one asks again. He grabs my hair and pulls hard. I see small dots of light in my vision.
Allison is squirming and turning her body around. She’s moving her hands. The tall man looks closer at them, then unties them. She holds a hand up in front of her, and I almost stop breathing.
“It’s her,” he says. “She’s got the big fuckin’ rock Caldwell bought her.”
No. The word is coursing through my body. No, please, no. She’s lying to them in hopes of saving me. I don’t want this. I can’t live a life without her.
The tall man grabs her hair, pulls her head back, and runs the knife across her throat in one smooth motion. A bright red line appears on my sister’s neck, and I scream as blood starts spilling from it.
She drops to the floor, her eyes finding mine. I crawl to her, never looking away. There’s peace in her soft brown eyes, and love, even now, as her life is draining away.
My throat burns from screaming. My bladder empties, probably out of sheer terror. Nothing these men can do now will scare me. They’ve taken away the other half of my heart.
I tell her I love her and it’s going to be okay, though my words are too muffled for her to understand. And just as I see the light leave her eyes, my throat tightens as hands close around it.
“This is cleaner, dumbass,” he says to the other man as he squeezes my throat. “No DNA.”
I don’t look away from Allison. I want her to be the last thing I see. The red of the blood pooling on the floor next to her starts to swirl in with colors around it as my vision blurs.
A knock sounds on the door. “Ava, the police are on their way. If you’re inside, open up.”
The pressure on my throat lets up, and I hear the men running down the hall toward my bedroom.
“Out the window,” I hear one of them say. “Hurry the fuck up.”
My lungs want to drag in as much air as possible, but the gag won’t allow it. I want to hold Allison, but my hands are still bound. I feel dizzy.
I don’t know if seconds or minutes pass, but soon my door is being broken down, and two uniformed police officers come inside.
A female officer drops down to the floor and pulls the gag away from my mouth.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I open my mouth to speak but then close it again. What is there to say? I’m not okay, and I never will be again. I just wish that hitman had pushed on my windpipe a little harder, choked a little longer. Allison is dead because of me, and I’d give anything to trade places with her.
I’M STUNNED INTO SILENCE FOR a couple seconds. Ava’s revelation left me reeling. Her wide eyes are pleading with me to say something.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before she reaches for both of my hands, holding on to them as she looks at me. “Please believe me, Daniel. I need you to believe me.”
“I believe you.”
Tears pool in her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about this conversation for hours, and I came up with so many reasons for you not to believe me. I was afraid you’d think I’m delusional.”
“No.” I bring one of her hands to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. “You’ve given me no reason to think that.”
She smiles and tears spill past her l
ower eyelashes. “You mean, other than the fact that you’re treating me at a mental hospital?”
A corner of my mouth turns up in a smile. “Now I know why you’re here, though. And I can’t say I blame you for staying silent.”
She sighs softly and looks away. “It wasn’t about protecting myself. Not at first. I was just so shattered . . .” Her voice wavers with emotion. “There was nothing worth saying anymore. Nothing worth doing. It’s why I kept ripping out my IV lines when I got here. I just wanted to be free from the pain.”
I take a deep breath, still processing everything she just told me. “How did no one catch this? The coroner or . . . I don’t know, someone.”
“Because she was wearing the engagement ring, there was never a question. My aunt Maggie identified her, so there was no need to look at dental records or anything.”
“So there was a funeral . . . for you?”
She shrugs. “There was, but I didn’t go. I guess my business partner took care of the arrangements, but Aunt Maggie didn’t think I was stable enough to go. She was probably right. I was in shock for a long time, and when the grief hit . . .” She shakes her head, her voice tight with emotion. “It hit like a tidal wave.”
Cupping her cheeks, I raise her face so I can look into her eyes. “You’re the one who was engaged. The one with the design business. This whole time, I thought . . .”
“That I was the nice one?”
“No. I just . . . it’s a lot to process.”
“I haven’t faked anything with you, Daniel. The only thing you didn’t know about me was my real name.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know you were engaged to some asshole drug lord who tried to have you killed over a book. Or that you’re actually a millionaire business owner.”
“Not anymore. I haven’t thought about Brighton Cole at all since that night.”
“Brighton Cole?”
“The fashion label I co-own with my business partner, Madeline. Or . . . co-owned . . . I guess. I don’t care about any of that anymore. My stupid, selfish drive to be successful is what got Allie killed.”
“How so?” I slide a hand around to the back of her neck and rub it gently.
“I ignored the signs about Dax because he was powerful. He was smooth and confident, and I wanted to be part of his world.”
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