First he had ripped out her heart. Then he had shattered her mind. Now he had broken her body. Nothing left was hers, not anymore. It was all his.
Through the blur her vision had become, she could make out the glowing numerals on her clock changing. She fisted her eyes, drying them enough to see that the bus she needed to take to get to class would be coming soon. Class.
She pictured dragging herself out of the house. She wouldn't have time to shower. His scent would linger on her skin all day like an itch she couldn't scratch out. She saw herself in a sterile classroom, in an uncomfortable chair beneath the cheap fluorescent lights that flickered so quickly that they made her eyes twitch. She imagined pretending nothing was wrong, while inside, all she wanted was to tear herself to pieces.
She couldn't keep these two lives separate anymore. This sundering would kill her.
But maybe that's what he wants.
She remembered what he had said, about preferring to see her destroyed rather than free.
He left her with no choice of her own.
Just his.
She pulled off her (his) shirt and unclasped her (his) bra. She picked up an oversized t-shirt from the floor. The cotton was as soft as a hug, and it made her want to cry because she couldn't remember the last time she'd had one.
She pulled off her (his) shirt and unclasped her (his) bra. She picked up an oversized t-shirt from the floor. The cotton was as soft as a hug, and it made her want to cry because she couldn't remember the last time she'd had one.
She kicked off her (his) jeans and, after an initial hesitation, the underwear too. To her horror, there were a few spots of blood where they had chafed against her skin, and she threw them into the trash, under several crumpled-up assignments so she wouldn't have to see them.
She needed the world to shut off for a few hours. It was the next best thing to death.
Val fished around beside her bed and found a half-empty bottle of water. It could have been anywhere from a few days old to a few months old. She didn't care. She uncapped the bottle and swallowed two of the sleeping pills she had prescribed. Gavin hadn't let herself sleep.
I wonder what would happen if I swallowed the whole bottle. One by one, just like counting sheep.
How beguiling that thought was. It scared her, knowing that she could end it all with a single swallow. Her self-control was slipping through her fingers like water. Val shuddered and tossed the bottle away. The cap fell off as it hit the floor. Pills spilled across the brown carpet, like white maggots.
She felt the pills wriggling into her mind, making her thoughts sluggish and heavy. Not tired, just slow. Val lay back and waited for sleep to come. It seemed like she had closed her eyes for less than a second but when she checked the time at least four hours had elapsed.
Something was chiming somewhere and it took her a moment to realize it was her phone ringing.
“Val? Is that you?”
“Jade?” she whispered.
“Oh, Jesus, thank God. We kept calling and calling—where are you? Are you all right? Mary says you never came home.”
He knows . “I'm in the dorms. I was sleeping.” There was a pause. “Sleeping?”
“Yes, Jade, sleeping.” She hated herself for taking that tone, but couldn't control herself. She was a fountain of ugliness, and all that poison festering inside of her was spewing out.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“I think you know.”
“I don't.”
She did.
“Can I come over? Around six? Mary will be coming too.”
“That's three hours from now,” Val said aloud. “Is that okay?”
“We know what happened,” Jade said. “It's not your fault.”
Yes it is, she wanted to scream at him. You know nothing! Nothing!
She hung up on him and fumbled for her clothes. She stuffed things into her backpack as she headed for the bathroom. She showered for nearly two hours. Whether Jade and Mary blamed her or not, she had absolutely no intention of waiting around like a child anticipating punishment.
She had to get out of her head.
She had to get out of here.
▪▫▪▫▪▫▪
Nobody answered when Jade and Mary knocked on the door at six o' clock. “She said she was sleeping earlier,” Jade said to Mary. It was cold in the hall, and he shuffled from foot to foot. “Maybe she's asleep.”
“Maybe. She does sleep a lot. Val? Are you there?” Mary rapped on the door with the back of her hand and pressed her ear against the brown painted surface. Nothing stirred. She sent Jade a look he couldn't quite interpret and opened the door with her room key. The inside was dark, silent.
Mary went in first to turn on the light while Jade looked around curiously; Val had never invited him up before, and was so secretive about her personal life.
It was easy to guess which side was hers. The yellow quilt with the flowers, at once both childish and old-fashioned. The threadbare sheets. The paperstrewn desk. The one hint of softness was a small plush cat half-hidden beneath the pillow. For some reason, the sight of that stuffed toy made his heart ache.
“She's not here,” Mary said, doing a closed circuit.
Jade sat down in Mary's desk chair since Val's was covered with discarded clothing. He thought about that box, made to look as if it were full of spilled blood. He thought about that man—the one who Val so feared. He wondered how sick you had to be, to kill without conscience. To kill the girl you claimed to desire. He couldn't even imagine.
That was probably a good thing.
Mary was studying Val's side of the room, shaking her head. Her eyebrows were drawn down, almost touching, a deep line engraved between them. “She must have been here earlier,” she continued, toeing a crumpled red shirt. “This wasn't here when I left earlier. I don't think I've ever seen her wearing it before.”
“Maybe she had to go out,” Jade hazarded. He didn't believe this at all—the timing was too convenient—but he also did not want to look possessive in front of Mary.
“All her stuff was moved around in the bathroom.” Mary folded her arms. “Her bed's rumpled.”
“Does she have class?”
“Not this late.” Mary walked around to Val's desk. “I wonder if she even showed up.”
“Why?”
Mary held up a sheet of paper. “She was working on this a couple nights ago, saying it was due today. Really freaking out—I remember 'cause she asked me to proofread it for her.”
“So something must have happened, between then and now.” Something crunched beneath his sneaker. Jade looked down and saw white dust and a pill bottle, one of those generic orange ones. He picked it up, turning it over. “Ambien.”
“Don't look at me. I've never seen it.”
“It's prescription.”
“Don't wanna know.” Mary made a warding off gesture. “Put it back. I never saw it.”
“She'll notice the crushed pills,” Jade pointed out. “Then maybe she'll think she did it herself.” Her eyes landed on the wastebasket.
“Hmm.”
Jade heard papers rustling, glanced over, and then shook his head. Going through her trash seemed too invasive. He already felt bad about finding her pills. He was about to say as much when he heard Mary gasp. “What's wrong?” He started to come over, but Mary waved him away.
“Paper cut.”
“You think we should wait?”
“I don't think she's gonna show.” Mary went into the bathroom to wash her hands. “She knows my schedule too well for this to be an accident.”
Jade sighed. “Wanna go to the DC?”
She turned off the faucet. “What I'd like to do is go to the cops.”
“Without talking to Val first?”
“She's being awfully cagey about the whole thing. The girl is sketch. I mean, seriously. You don't act like this unless you've got something to hide.”
“We know she does,” Jade
reminded her. “That's enough.”
Mary didn't answer.
“Let's talk about it over dinner at least. I'm starving.”
Mary locked the door behind them.
“I hope she's okay.”
“I think you should be more concerned about yourself. You're the one receiving threats.” Mary hesitated. “If something is wrong, you'd think she'd have warned us.”
Chapter Thirteen
Belladonna
Val ended up falling asleep in the 24-hour study room. She awoke with a crick in her neck and a spine that felt like a cold iron pole. She groaned as she pushed back from the table, flexing her stiffened shoulders. Everything ached except for her stomach, which merely felt hollow.
For one blissful moment, she could not remember where she was or why she was here.
It made remembering all the more painful. Because she did remember, eventually. It all came flooding in like a reeking tide.
Today was Day One.
The phone rang as she left the building. She slung her backpack to one hip in order to root through it. Her phone was at the very bottom, and her arms and shoulders ached anew as she contorted them around to reach it. “Hello?”
“Answering your phone during class?”
She stopped walking, and a student opposite her on the sidewalk had to swerve to avoid collision. They gave her an irritated look she did not notice.
“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I knew you had a predilection for defiance, yes, but not to what extent. Your behavior was…mm, enlightening, to say the least. I must say, however, that I found your stamina and endurance to be rather lacking.”
She clapped her hand over her mouth and regretted it immediately as she could smell the bile on her breath. “Fuck you.”
“Though perhaps your enthusiasm is to be lauded.”
“Stop twisting my words around,” she told the phone.
“Oh, I don't need to twist your words around. Not when I have you to do all the twisting for me. Under me, rather. I might almost believe that you'd never had to beg before—but we both know that's not quite true.” His voice, formerly light, now hardened. “Don't we?”
She wanted to cover her ears, but his voice was like a neurotoxin. It left her dizzied and immobile.
“Fuck off,” she amended weakly.
“I won't permit you to speak to me that way.” God, he was horrible. Had he always been this horrible? Or was he that good at hiding it?
“Don't you dare hang up on me,” he snarled, making her flinch, because her thumb had been creeping slowly towards the “end” button without her even being aware of it. “You are going to listen to this, every word—and do you know why?”
She shook her head, then remembered he couldn't see it. It didn't seem to matter.
“Because you love it when I make you struggle. Where I lead, you follow. Isn't that right?”
“No. No, it isn't.”
“Yes it is. You want someone to make you feel defenseless, vulnerable, hunted. I could kill you, and you can feel that when you lie with me. You love that power, my power—the power that I have over you.” There was a heated pause. “Your body belongs to me more than you, now. I can smell you on my clothes. Fear and desire, and pure, sweet submissiveness.”
Val looked around wildly, sure that someone would see right through the call. With a cry she hung up on his laughter, realizing only too late that she had just called his threat.
She took the bus back to the dorms, too focused to worry about her rumpled clothing or to register the faces around her. Her mind's eye kept blinking back to that cold, cruel gaze, and the dark, gravelly voice. If leopards could speak, they would sound like him.
Val thought she would go to the dorm, brush her teeth, and then head down to the DC to catch the last hour of breakfast. Most of the food would be stale and overcooked. Crispy black bacon—if there was any bacon left—rubbery eggs, soggy hash browns. But even that was better than what she deserved.
She pushed the door open. The first thing she saw was Mary's face. It filled her anxiety at first sight and it took her a moment to realize why. She had seen that look on the people back home, yes—caution, contemptuous pity, and cold, cold condemnation.
No. She was projecting again, seeing her worst fears reflected back at her from the fun house mirror her world had become. Mary cared about her. Mary didn't think about her that way.
Only because she doesn't know the truth.
But she did now. One look into her eyes and Val knew. One look into her eyes, and the mirror shattered to pierce her heart with the frozen blades of panic. “What's going on?”
“Where were you?”
Taken aback, Val said only, “Huh?”
“You said you would be here. At six. Jade and I both came here. We waited for you—but you never showed.”
“Oh. I—I was in the study room.” She looked away. “I guess I forgot.”
“Like you forgot about this?” Mary held up a cream-covered envelope Val only just stopped herself from reaching for. A valerian petal was still clinging to the folds. The words, Are you frightened? leered out at her in Lisa's girlish hand.
Val tugged at a strand of hair. She was finding it hard to breathe. “Where did you get that?”
“I found it in your desk.”
“You went through my things?”
The pills—the diary entries—the necklace— “Jade got a box full of fake blood. There was a
chess piece inside. It was cleaved clean in half. It came with a message, too. A warning. A threat.”
“Oh,” Val said, falteringly.
“We were scared out of our minds. I wanted to go to the police—but Jade said wait.”
There was no escape. The walls were closing in around her, each escape route blocked off the moment she had it in sight.
“Do you know what it said?”
Val looked at Mary again. “What?”
“The message. The one in Jade's box. Do you know what it said? It said, Stay the fuck away from Valerian Kimble.” Mary stumbled a little over the word 'fuck,' but it didn't slow her down in any way. “We looked up the name,” she said. “We know.
“We know everything. We know about freshman year—about the house—why you left town. God, Val, you were just a kid. Why didn't you let us know? Didn't you think we should? That I should?” Mary seemed more scared and hurt than angry, though there was definitely anger there. Fear eclipsed the anger; the fear was real, harsh, acrid as lye. It ate through Mary's words and was somehow worse than anger. “Aren't we your friends? Don't you care about us at all?”
“Of course I do,” Val said hollowly, wondering even as she spoke whether it was true.
“Then why didn't you say something?”
Because the words are knives in my throat.
“He said he'd hurt you if I said anything.” If I speak, then I will bleed.
“And you believed him?”
“No friends.” She was so very tired. “No lovers. No police.”
It took Mary a moment to speak. Her face was pale. “You went to him.”
My heart is dust. I have nothing left to fight for, and still I must fight.
“You spent the night with him.”
“He said he was going to cut Jade's face.” “Oh my God, Val.”
I was afraid like that once, Val thought. Shocked that one being could wish to harm another.
Not anymore.
“I thought he wanted to kill me.”
“Val,” Mary said. “Oh my God. Why did you do that? Why did you go? He could have killed you.”
“He didn't, though. He should have, but he didn't.” Instead, he did something worse. He ended my life, and left me breathing so I could feel the void. “Now others are going to die. All because of me. Because I am too weak and too stupid to stop him.”
And then she burst into tears, because she did not care enough, but cared just enough to care that she didn't. And because, dead or alive, a beating
heart can still bleed.
Mary stepped forward, as if to offer comfort, but couldn't seem to bring herself to touch Val. As if that taint were something that could be passed from one person to another, like disease. Maybe it could and did. Why else would people say that misery loved company? “We need to go to the police.”
“No.” Val lowered her hands from her face. “No,” she said fiercely. “No police. Didn't you hear me?”
“Val, he's a killer—I don't want to die.”
“Then don't call the cops.” Val shook her head.
“You can't catch him. Don't you see? He is too smart. I've tried. I've tried and tried and tried, and it doesn't do any good. You can't beat him. You can't fight him. You have to play by his rules, or you lose—and he will break you.”
Mary took a step back. “You're scaring me.” “You should be scared. You should be terrified.” “Please, just let me—”
“I said no.” Val swiped the cell phone out of
Mary's hand. It hit the wall and shattered. She was breathing hard. On some level, she had a picture of herself, of how she must look, wild-eyed, rumpled and disheveled, limbs stiff from sleeping against the hard surface of the desk. She knew she must look insane, or close to it, and she could not bring herself to care.
Adrenaline flooded through her. It was the key to her chains. It left her buoyant.
Emboldened, she said, “If you call the cops, I'll deny it. I'll deny everything.”
“Val—”
“I'll show them my medication. They'll think I'm crazy—that you humored me, because you didn't know. Everyone with mental illness is unstable, don't you know? Liable to kill themselves or others.” She smiled bitterly. “Just like the movies. Blame the victim.”
Mary said nothing, but a trapped look had become fixed on her face like webbing.
“Look—just don't call the police,” Val said, in a slightly calmer voice. “I'll take care of it. I promise.”
When Mary's silence continued, Val turned and walked out of the room, glad that the other girl could not hear the pounding of her heart.
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