by Tijan
I closed my eyes and lay back down, curling into a small ball. I wanted to be as small as possible. I wanted to disappear, if that was possible.
I waited.
I didn’t disappear. I couldn’t.
Lying here wasn’t helping. My insides were still in shreds. I just didn’t want to think about why. It would make me go insane.
I stood, going to the door. I wanted Mason, but I couldn’t be selfish and demand him. Logan was hurting the most. He needed his brother. Did Logan need me too? I was like his sister. I was his sister.
I was Taylor’s killer too. She died because I didn’t save her.
Maybe I should go and comfort Heather? Anything to tear me away from where I was.
I started to leave, then remembered to grab the key card on the table by the door.
“Where are you going?” Mason was behind me.
I couldn’t look in his eyes. If I did, I’d collapse. I looked away. “I’m going to check on Heather.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I swallowed, but I still didn’t look up. “How is he?”
“Hurting, Sam. He could use you.”
“He has you.”
“He needs both of us.”
No. My heart squeezed together. He didn’t need the person who would always remind him of her. But Mason wouldn’t understand that. He wasn’t thinking about it, not really. I didn’t have the heart to explain it to him.
I shoved my hands in my robe’s pockets, my shoulders hunched down, my head still hanging low. “I’ll be back,” I whispered. “I promise.”
Before he could say anything else, I reached behind me, opened the door and slipped out.
I rushed to Heather’s room, but only because it was away from that suite.
I knocked on their door. “Heather? Channing?”
I waited. No response. I knocked again. “Hello?” No response.
I tried the door.
It opened, and I stepped inside, just one foot.
The room was cold.
The lights were off.
A breeze swept through the room, giving me the shivers.
“Heather?” I raised my voice. Were they in the bathroom? My stomach sank to my feet. Would everyone be in the bathroom now? Was this the beginning of a perverted joke? But I crossed the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I ignored the pit in my stomach, and I knocked on the bathroom door.
There was no response.
I knocked again, then checked. The door was unlocked.
I held my breath and pushed it open.
Nothing.
I didn’t even feel the warmth that lingered when someone had just taken a shower. I turned back around. There was nothing in the room. There was no reason for me to believe they’d even been in here.
Did I have the wrong room?
That was it. Had to be it. I started for the hallway again, then heard a dash of footsteps in the hallway. Someone ran past where I was.
I darted forward. Who was that? I got to the hallway, it took two seconds, but they were gone. The tan-and-black floral pattern on the floor stretched up and down the hallway. No one was there. I started forward.
I heard a soft click to my left, ahead of me.
A door closed.
My head snapped around again. No. The sound was away from the suite.
I kept going.
I didn’t have shoes on. I wasn’t dressed to leave the hallway, never mind the hotel. I’d have to go back if I didn’t find anyone. Still. I pressed on. I didn’t even know what I would find, or if I would find anything, but I kept going.
I got to the end.
Nothing. No one.
I was sick of this.
I let out a breath of air and started back for the room. I’d go back and call the front desk. I’d have them ring me to Heather’s correct room.
Another soft click.
I knew I’d heard it this time. My head whipped back around, but still nothing in the hallway. Not even the sound of the ice machine.
The hairs on my neck were standing up. Then again, I don’t think they had ever relaxed.
I pressed a hand to my stomach, like that would calm me. It did nothing. I knew it wouldn’t, but I had to try. I was walking back to the room. I hadn’t realized how far I’d gone. I had four doors to go. Three. Two. I was at Heather’s room again.
“Sam?”
I cried out, rounding, and falling to the floor. My heart leapt out of my chest.
It was Heather. She stood right behind me, clutching an ice bucket.
I pressed a hand to my chest, making sure everything was still intact there, that nothing had exploded. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Me?” She pointed to me with the bucket. “What are you doing? You’re being all creepy and sneaking down the hallway. I followed you from the stairs.”
“The stairs?”
“Yeah. I went down there to get ice. Ours is out of order on this floor.”
“Did you take the elevator?”
“No. Why would I? It’s just one floor.”
So that had been the door click. “My heart is still racing.” I got up, but still held my hand over my heart.
But what about the second door click? The thought nagged me. I would’ve seen her. I was looking up and down the hallway. And come to think of it, where was the exit sign? I didn’t see it. “Where are the stairs?”
She motioned to the door I’d just passed. I widened my eyes. It looked just like another bedroom.
Wait. That didn’t make sense either.
I shook my head.
None of this was making sense. Those hairs—they were standing straight up, ramrod straight. There was no slouching. They were at full attention. I asked, “How’d you know that was the stairs?”
“Channing told me.”
“What?”
“He said that they switched the signs around, something about not letting media up here, and that this is the door I needed to use for my smoke breaks.”
“Where is Channing?”
She frowned. “He said he went to talk to you. I went to get ice after that.”
“Oh.” I could relax again. “He probably went to look for you like I just did.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” She shrugged, and went to the room. I followed her, but stood in the doorway. She looked fine, unlike what Channing had claimed. I asked, “Are you doing okay?”
She half-laughed at me. “Are you serious? I should be the one asking you, not the other way around.”
“Oh.”
There was no reason for me to stay here. I looked over my shoulder at the suite door. Maybe I should go and see how Logan was doing? Maybe he actually did need me? I let out another sigh. I just wished I knew what I should do.
“But how are you doing?” Heather put the ice down, then reached for her cigarettes. She folded them into her pocket and pulled on a sweatshirt.
“I—uh.” I looked back at the ground. I didn’t want to think about her. Then I wouldn’t even be able to stand. “I think I want to process it later.”
“Okay.” She held up her cigarettes. “I have to get out of here. I need a smoke. You want one? You look like you could actually use one, but don’t get addicted.” She grinned, the smile not reaching her eyes. “I’ve heard they’re bad for you. She used to tell me that. Ta—” She stopped, clasping her eyes tightly shut. She bit down on her lip and her head hung low. “Oh God.”
All the feelings came rushing in. I started to slide down to the floor. I could feel the sobs coming. I wrapped my arms around myself, warding everything off. I did not want to fall apart.
Heather rushed to me. She slid an arm around me and helped me stand. “I’m sorry, Sam.” She tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t talk.
We stood there, her arms around me, my own arms around me, and I took a moment. Just one. I had to keep going after that, and after a few moments passed, I nodded. I st
ood straight again. Heather pulled away, still frowning. “You better?”
I flashed her a grin, knowing it was broken. I didn’t care about that. I couldn’t. “Enough.”
“Okay.”
We stepped back into the hallway. I went toward the suite. She went to the weird stairway door. She opened it and put one foot inside, pulling her cigarettes out again. “You sure you don’t want one? Not trying to push bad shit on you, but.” The little light she had in her eyes dimmed. “You know.”
I shook my head. “Thank you, but no.”
“Okay.”
“Hey.” I stopped her.
She looked back up.
I gestured to my door. “Find Channing and come in when you get back.”
She started to nod. She started to say, “I will—” when a gloved hand appeared around her head. Her eyes bulged out. Her mouth opened to scream, but the hand covered her mouth.
I had one second of warning before the knife was brought to her throat, and in a nanosecond—her throat was slashed.
“NO!”
Blood spewed from her throat, and her body slumped to the ground. I froze.
Her eyes, like Taylor’s, had been alive. They had been alarmed. They had been frightened. And then, like Taylor’s, they’d become lifeless.
And I couldn’t look away.
Chapter 14
The suite door crashed open, and Mason rushed out. “SAM!”
She was . . . I couldn’t look away, and I fell to my knees. It was like Taylor all over again. Mason came to stand behind me. “Shit.” He knelt by me. “Sam.”
There was no comprehension.
“Sam.” His hand touched my shoulder. “Who did this?”
“Who—” I looked up. There’d been a gloved hand. There was nothing again, just like the other time. “I—” That word gurgled out of me. “I don’t know.”
They could’ve killed me. The fight or flight hadn’t kicked in for me. I screamed and then froze.
“Wha—oh my God!” Logan rushed from the suite.
Mason yelled past us, “Nate! Stay there!”
“But—”
“STAY!”
I looked up. I didn’t want Logan here either. He shouldn’t have to see Heather like this too. “No.” I began shaking my head, standing, holding my hands out. “Logan, don’t be here. Go back inside.”
His eyes were glued to her; then he pulled them with an effort to my face, and down to my hands. He didn’t look away. A vein bulged out on the side of his neck. “Sam.” A breathless whisper. He started to reach for my hands. “Is that yours?”
What? I looked at my hands. They were covered in blood, but—I looked back at Heather’s body. I hadn’t touched her.
Had I?
This blood—I lifted my hands higher to see. Then I looked at myself. I wasn’t cut. It wasn’t my blood.
“She touched her.” Mason blocked Logan and me from seeing Heather. He stood between me and her. His hands came to my shoulders. They were firm. Authoritative. “Go back inside, both of you.”
“Who is it? I can’t see.” Nate spoke from behind us. Mason was blocking him too.
“Fuck that.” Logan frowned. He wasn’t trying to look at Heather around his brother. If anything, he backed away a step. “What are you going to do?”
“Someone killed her in front of Sam. I’m going to look for him.”
“What?” Logan and I spoke as one. I rounded on my boyfriend. “No, you’re not.”
“Sam.” He gentled his tone. “I have to search for whoever did this. They could’ve hurt you too.”
They could’ve done worse than that. But neither of us said those words out loud. We were both thinking it, and I saw the plea in his eyes. He wanted me to let him go, let him look. I shook my head. No way. I reached for him. “You go, I go.”
Logan cursed and stepped up to us. He avoided looking at Heather. “We all go.” That vein popped out again. He looked down at the ground. “Does Channing know?”
Nate asked from the door, “What’s going on?”
He was ignored. Mason looked at me.
I shook my head in response to Logan’s question.
Logan swore again. “We need to tell him, and we need to call the cops.”
“I’ll find Channing.” Mason pointed back to the suite. “Get in there. Deadbolt the door, and call the police.”
“Mase.”
Mason had started to go. Logan stopped him, uttering that one word.
Mason looked back.
Logan shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere without us. We all go inside and call the cops.”
Nate cleared his throat. “Yes. Come back in here.”
I asked, “And if Channing comes back and finds her like this?”
“I don’t care. For all we know, he’s the one who did it.”
I frowned.
Logan avoided looking at me too, but added to what Mason had said. “We don’t know who did it, Sam. You have to be cautious. With everyone.”
Not them. They had been behind me in the suite. Not them.
Mason muttered a curse under his breath, running his hand over his face. “Fine.” He grabbed my elbow and began walking me back. He used his other hand to push Logan forward too. “We all go in. We need the cops called five minutes ago.”
We deadbolted the door. Nate went to the couch. Mason went to the phone, and Logan stood and stared at me.
“Mason said you saw someone last night?”
I nodded to him. “A guy in a black robe and white mask.”
“Like Scream?”
“There were no facial features in the white mask. It was just a white mask.”
“No place for eyes, nose, mouth?” Logan narrowed his eyes.
I shook my head.
“How do they breathe?”
Mason put the phone back down. He’d overheard. “Maybe the material is breathable and thin enough for them to see through?”
Logan gave him a skeptical look, his lips thinning. “You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you, and what’s your issue? You got a tone. You blame Sam for this?”
Logan didn’t answer, but his gaze came back to me. It was unflinching. Hardened. His jaw clenched again.
“Bullshit,” Mason threw right back, standing between us. He turned to face off against his brother. His back was to me. “For all we know, this is about her. Maybe she’s the one he’s obsessed with? Maybe he’s saving her for last?”
“And how would you know all this?” Logan’s voice was so biting. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into this already.”
Mason tensed. “Walk away, Logan. Before you say something that’ll affect our family.”
“Shit.” It was so soft, so lethal. “Something already has.”
But he walked away, and I moved into Mason, resting my forehead against his back. We stayed like that for I don’t know how long, but I didn’t want to move.
* * *
The cops came, and everything was repeated.
Enduring the cops was a nightmare in and of itself, but I answered the questions. We were moved to another hotel. The crime scene was too close to where we were staying. They wanted to search the hotel anyways. Once everything died down, I just sat there.
They never found Channing. They were supposed to tell us the moment they did.
It was Taylor.
We were trying to get our bearings.
Then it was Heather.
“Sam?”
It was three in the morning, but no one was sleeping. Mason and Nate had both gone to check on Logan, but I wasn’t in the room with them. I didn’t want to go in there, not yet. I looked over now. Mason was closing Logan’s door behind him, crossing to where I was sitting. I was smack dab in the living room, facing the hotel door. The lights were off except for the soft glow from two lamps in the corners. I would’ve thought it was a romantic setting, if I didn’t know the reason we were there.
“Hey,�
� I murmured back.
His hand came to my shoulder, sliding to the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, relaxing into his touch. I sought solace there, but only for a second. I couldn’t any longer than that. There were things to do, emotions to ignore, and a killer to handle. I was shoving down all the normal emotions a person might have after having two friends murdered in such a quick amount of time.
I was stewing.
I was letting my anger churn inside of me. It was giving me fuel to keep going, and that was all I had at that moment.
Mason stepped closer and I rested my head against his stomach. He asked, sliding his fingers up through my hair, “How are you?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk at that moment. I reached up and held on to his arm, keeping him anchored to me, and he moved in even closer.
No, that wasn’t right before, to think I only had my anger left. I still had Mason and Logan.
Mason was comforting me, content to let me not talk. I was drawing in strength just by being near him. He was reaffirming what I needed to do.
I looked back at that door.
I was waiting. That’s what I was doing.
And as if the killer could see me, could know what I was doing, a snarl came to my lips. Come and get me, you asshole.
And as if I could hear him too, he murmured in my head, I’ll be right there.
Chapter 15
“Samantha.”
I woke, my heart pounding, and bolted upright in bed. When had I gone to bed? But I looked around. Mason was sleeping next to me, his eyes closed, his chest lifting up and down at a steady pace. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the exhaustion pulling at me. It wanted me to lie back down and let it take over, but no. I heard my name. That’s what woke me up.
I moved to the edge of the bed, and started to stand up, when he showed up in the doorway.
I could only stare at first.
There was no scream. No gasp. Just the view of a man in a black robe with white all over his face. There were no eyes. No mouth. It was like he wasn’t even a person.
I froze.