The dock stretched out like a tentative finger over the lake. Maybe there was a way in through the water. Kate waded into the lake. The cold sank into her shoes and jeans, thousands of needles pricking her skin, creeping higher as the water grew deeper. She paused, imagined him seeing the ripples, but it was still gloomy enough to hide them. Kate tensed as the cold swarmed up her body. The floor of the lake shelved and the water was up to her chest before she could move under the decking. As she edged back to the boathouse, she saw Jack standing on the shore fifty yards away.
Kate pressed against the end of the building, keeping only her head and the top of her chest above the water. So cold her teeth began to chatter, she bit her lip to suppress any sound.
“Come back here, you fucking bitch,” Jack screamed. “Come now and I won’t hurt you. But if I have to find you, I’ll cut your fucking foot off so you can’t run again.”
Kate swallowed her whimper.
“If you don’t come here right now, I’ll hurt Tommy. It’ll be your fault, you cunt.”
Kate tried to feel if there was a way to move the panel that blocked the way into the boathouse. If it slid up, there would be no way for her to shift it. She guessed it was normally opened from inside. There was probably a gap underneath it, but Kate couldn’t go under the water.
“Get out here, Kate. If you don’t fucking appear in front of me this minute, yours won’t be the only back where I carve my name.” She closed her eyes. Jack’s voice grew louder. Her heart raced like a trapped mouse. She couldn’t feel her toes anymore. Her fingers were going the same way.
Jack or the water could kill her. Kate pressed back and felt something give behind her. She turned, pulled off her gloves, tucked them into the neck of her coat, then put her fingers under the water. They slid into a gap and when she pulled instead of pushed, the boards moved.
Moments later, she’d forced her way through the gap and maneuvered the boards back in place. It was dark under there but moonlight shone through a gap in the roof over the area where a boat would usually sit. Kate stayed under the walkway at the side and pushing aside thoughts of things in the water, she moved silently back toward the shore, the water getting shallower with each step so she had to bend and finally crawl.
At the far end, Kate squirmed under the boards that formed the floor, until at last she was out of the water and crammed in a tight dirt space. She curled up, shivering so violently, it made her head spin. She heard Jack clearly now, swearing and yelling one moment, the next calling her like a lover.
“Kate! Please, sweetheart. I need you.”
“You fucking cunt, get out here.”
“Angel. Where are you? We can sort this out.” She hid her face in her arms and waited.
Above her head, he rattled the padlock on the door. The wood thumped as he kicked it. Kate stayed absolutely motionless, frozen with fear as much as cold.
Finally, she heard the sounds of him leaving and after a moment, she risked raising her head to look through a crack in the boards. Kate had a sudden horror she’d see his eye looking back at her. He was calling her again, but from farther away. The immediate danger had passed. But she was so cold. Only her head and shoulders were dry, her hat still in place.
She needed to get blood flowing in her stiff and unresponsive fingers. Blowing on them did nothing. She twisted her gloves in her hands, kept twisting and turning until her fingers hurt before she put the gloves back on. Even wet gloves were better than nothing.
She was safe from Jack under the boathouse, but she’d die if she stayed there.
How long should she wait before moving? The splinters of light at the edge of the boards grew brighter by the moment. What chance would she have in daylight?
As her eyes began to adjust to the low light, Kate looked around. Maybe there was a way out without going back into the water. She slid over the dirt and scrambled around the upright wooden supports to the other side of the dry area.
If she could get out that side, she’d have the boathouse between her and Jack.
Kate gasped as her knee crunched on a sharp object. She bit the inside of her cheeks, fighting not to cry. She reached back to brush her knee and touched something else. Kate twisted around and pulled off a glove. Her fingers ran over a hard, rounded surface. Shuffling closer, Kate stared at her discovery and stifled a crazy impulse to laugh. This was like some Indiana Jones movie, not real life.
Her hand lay on a skull.
Had she found Steven? Had he crawled in here like her or been killed and hidden? If Jack killed him, he knew about the crawlspace. He’d gotten so mad with Tommy when he’d swung on the door. Was Jack scared they’d find the body? Did he think the floor would give way? But maybe Steven had been the guilty one, killed his mother, hidden here and died.
Kate felt around with her frozen fingers and the fabric below the skull crumpled at her touch. What she saw then, made her think she’d made a mistake, that this wasn’t Steven at all. Even in the dim light, she knew she was looking at another skull, one no bigger than an orange. A larger skeleton curled up around a smaller one? Steven or maybe a mother cuddling a baby and they’d died together.
Maybe it was someone like her who’d been trying to get away from Jack.
How long did it take for bodies to turn skeletal? Something had disturbed these before she had. The bones weren’t lying in the right places. She forced herself to go through the remains. The clothing fell apart in her fingers to leave just bones. She found a zipper and buttons, but no weapon and nothing to indicate who they were or how long they’d been there.
Whether Jack knew about the space under the boathouse or not, Kate didn’t want to stay there any longer. With no way out that side, she reluctantly moved back to the water and went out the way she’d entered, slotting the loose boards back into place as best she could. She had to summon all her energy to wade back to shore. If she sat down, she’d never get up again.
Kate could neither see nor hear Jack. The sun was up, a warm glow in the sky that filled her with dread. She turned away from the direction she thought he’d gone and set her sights on a large rock jutting out into the water about two hundred yards away. She’d move around the lake in stages. Break into a house.
She couldn’t think beyond that.
But she was too cold, too tired. By the time she reached the rock, all Kate wanted to do was lie down. She dropped to her knees, turned and saw him coming.
Kate slid down the smooth icy rock into the lake, unable to stop herself. She breathed a sigh of relief that the water only came to her ankles though she couldn’t feel it. She edged to the other side of the rock on feet that felt like concrete blocks. Once Jack passed on the shore side, she could go the opposite way. But she knew her chances of survival dropped by the second.
It began snowing. Kate watched in hypnotic wonder as large flakes fluttered down and disappeared at the surface of the water. Visibility plummeted. She raised her hand to wipe her glasses and realized she’d lost a glove. Her stiff fingers looked like the bones she’d just found. They didn’t hurt but she was so tired.
“Have a good swim?”
Kate didn’t even react to his voice. She was too exhausted. Jack reached under her armpits and hauled her back onto the rock. She lay looking up at him and didn’t feel sorry for herself, only for Tommy. Snow coated her face, settled on her glasses.
“How come you’re so wet?” he asked.
Kate didn’t answer. He took her glasses from her face, then dropped them on the rock next to her head and smashed them with his heel, grinding them into oblivion before kicking the remains into the water.
“Get up,” he snapped.
Kate wished she could laugh. She closed her eyes and he pulled her upright.
“You fucking stupid bitch.”
Her remaining glove was wrenched off. The dead weight of the sodden coat vanished and something lighter, warmer took its place. Kate opened her eyes.
He’d dressed her in his sweater
and gloves. It was the first time she’d seen him look pale and panicky. The thought that he didn’t want her to die brought no comfort.
He half dragged, half carried her back to the house. The pain was intermittent, slashing her like a knife blade one moment, fading to a dull ache the next. Kate slipped in and out of consciousness; whenever she closed her eyes, he shouted and slapped her face, making her wake up.
“Don’t you fucking dare go to sleep. You’re a mother. You have a child. How could you abandon him again? He needs you.” Kate’s feet scraped on the ground, bumping over stones as he dragged her through the snow.
“You pretend to be such a goody-goody. Take a job in the children’s section in a library. Work the hours your colleagues don’t want. What a fucking martyr. And it’s all an act. You’re a selfish bitch.”
Jack picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder like a piece of meat. That’s all I am.
“Twice, Kate. You gave up your own child twice. First, by denying he existed, now by running away from him. Tommy will think you don’t love him anymore.
He trusted you and you betrayed him.”
She’d had no choice. She had to run. But now it was too late.
Back at the house, he dropped her on the floor in front of the stove.
“Take off those wet clothes,” he said, as he removed his boots.
Kate was incapable of persuading her fingers to do anything. She pawed at the edge of the sweater but couldn’t grip it. Finally, Jack did it for her, pulling it roughly over her head together with her hat, ripping off her T-shirt, stripping her.
“I just saved your life. Can’t you think of anything to say?” he snapped, tossing a fleece blanket over her.
Kate wrapped her lips round the only words she had for him and they came out slow and slurred. “I wish you were dead.”
Jack laughed. “You’re lucky you aren’t. You could have killed Tommy. Did you think about that? You could have wandered in those woods forever and never been found, just like my brother.” He began to rub her with the blanket.
Kate showed no reaction. Not difficult when her face was frozen. “Drink,” she mumbled.
Jack opened the fridge and took out a soda. He put it in front of her. Kate’s hand slid from under the blanket but she couldn’t wrap her fingers around the can. It rolled away. Jack snatched it up, wrenched back the tab and held it to her mouth. It foamed everywhere, but Kate gulped the sweet soda until it overflowed in her mouth.
“The only thing you did right was not touching the car. If you’d slashed the tires, I’d have gutted you and left you hanging in a tree.” He began rubbing her body again and her skin began to tingle.
She should have slashed the tires. Why hadn’t she thought of that? But he wouldn’t gut her. If he’d wanted her dead, he’d have left her at the lake. He needed her alive.
The warmth from the house began to fight the chill of her body. She still couldn’t feel her feet or her fingers.
“Upstairs,” he said.
She could barely breathe let alone move. Did he think she was pretending? His foot hit her side and Kate jerked on the floor, Coke spewing from her mouth.
Curling in a ball, she gasped for breath, screwing her eyes closed, expecting another blow. Instead, something smooth and cold clashed against her teeth. She opened her eyes. Jack held a knife at her mouth.
“Upstairs,” he repeated. “Crawl if you can’t walk.” Kate went up on all fours. Every step of the way, he pricked her back and legs with the tip of the knife. Kate could feel some sensation but had no idea whether he was cutting her or not. When his fingers touched the place on her back where he’d carved his initial, she guessed what was coming and whimpered.
“You should be fucking scared, you cunt. Get in the bathroom.” Kate crawled the whole way, but when she got in there, she forced herself to her feet. If, in the end, this turned out to be her last moment on earth, she wanted to face it standing up, not on the floor at that bastard’s feet. Grabbing the wash basin, she turned.
Jack held the knife in his left hand, twisting the handle backward and forward between his fingers, so the blade glittered in the early morning light.
“All that effort to stand and I want you face down on the floor.” He grinned.
“Fuck off.”
The grin slid off his face. Kate wouldn’t plead, wouldn’t cooperate. No more.
She stared into his eyes, knowing she’d see nothing, but wanting him to understand she’d had enough. Kate fell before she felt the blow. Her head slammed against the wall and she crumpled. Jack dropped to her side and pushed her face down on the floor. He straddled her, pinning her palms under his knees, pressing her knuckles into the wooden boards.
“I warned you what would happen. This is your own fault.”
As the knife sliced into her skin, Kate screamed into the floor.
“That’s A. Now C.”
She could feel the blood trickling down her skin, warm against cold.
“K.”
“What’s wrong, Mommy? Why are you on the floor?” Kate opened her eyes. Tommy stood at the door, his thumb in his mouth, his blue toy clutched under his arm. “I woke up.” His gaze moved between her and Jack.
“Mommy’s fine. Tell him you’re fine, Kate.”
“Fine….” Kate could barely speak, the word sounded wrong.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“No. Mommy loves me so much she wanted my name on her back. You’ve heard of tattoos? That’s what I’ve done. Come and look.”
“It’s bleeding,” Tommy muttered from the doorway.
“Only a bit. It doesn’t hurt, does it, Mommy?” Kate said nothing and Jack shifted his weight so his knees ground harder into her palms, pushing her knuckles down so she cried out.
“Well, maybe it hurts a little, but Mommy doesn’t mind. In fact, I think Mommy would like your name, too. What do you think, Kate?” A sound came from her throat, an animal-like whimpering.
“Pass me that towel, Tommy. We don’t want to make any more mess. Now, come and kneel down next to me.”
Tommy stood by the door, tears rolling down his face.
“Get over here, right now,” Jack shouted. “Don’t make me tell you twice.” Tommy shuffled to Kate’s side and knelt down. His fingers slid over her face.
“Where’s your glasses?”
Jack pulled him away. “Mommy broke them. Here, hold the knife like this.”
“Don’t want to.” Tommy screwed up his face and cried harder.
“Sure you do. Mommy wants your name on her back so she remembers how much she loves you.”
“I can’t write.”
“We’ll only do a ‘T’. Just a little one. I’ll help you. One line across and one down.”
“Jack…don’t,” Kate whispered.
She bit down on her arm when the knife went in. Tommy wailed.
“There you are, see that’s ‘T’ for Tommy and it didn’t hurt at all, did it, Mommy?”
Kate couldn’t speak.
“Go and get dressed, bud. I’ll help Mommy clean herself up. You’ve been a good boy and we’re going for ice cream, like I promised.” Kate watched Tommy go. At the door, he turned and looked at her and the only thing Kate could do was blink. He disappeared.
The pressure came off her hands as Jack got to his feet, and she groaned in relief. But he came back with handcuffs, snapping one end around her wrist before dragging her to the wall and attaching the other cuff around the faucet on the bath.
Kate lay sprawled against the side of the tub like a rag doll. She wanted to shut her eyes but they remained open, fixed on Jack. He put in the plug and started the water.
“I warned you, Kate. Didn’t I?”
He looked calmer now. The tension in his face had gone. The pain in her back grew like something was eating her. Tears sprang into her eyes.
“I don’t understand you,” he said and looked genuinely puzzled. “You should be grateful for what I’ve done. I rescued
you from a dead-end job, married you, found our child and gave you a home. I’ve been a fucking saint. Why do you still want to leave me?”
He was getting angry again and Kate thought about Tommy downstairs. She tried to think of something to calm Jack down, but her mouth wouldn’t work.
“You know, your mother couldn’t get enough of me. She used to sneak to my room and I’d wake up and find her sucking me off. I’ll let you in on a secret, Kate. She was having my baby.”
Kate swallowed hard. The lump stayed in her throat.
“Your father knew. She told him just before he died.” He laughed. “Oops, I guess finding his wife was pregnant could have been the last straw for his poor little heart since he hadn’t fucked her for years.” Jack stared at her and his face turned so dark, Kate thought the room dimmed.
“You know what your mother did to me, sweetheart? Do you want to know the really terrible thing she did?” He leaned over so his face was next to hers. “She killed my baby.”
He turned off the faucet and walked out. For a moment Kate couldn’t think at all. Then she thought too much. She sprawled with her face pressed against the tub, her back on fire and her mind in hell. Jack had gotten her mother pregnant?
What kind of sick game was he playing now?
She heard him talking to Tommy. The door slammed. The generator stopped humming and a few minutes later the car started. Then there was silence.
Kate couldn’t move her hands and thought maybe Jack had broken them.
Blood trickled down her shoulders and back. The coppery tang of it filled her nose. She needed the warmth of the water but she couldn’t move. Had he really made her mother pregnant? Ashlands hadn’t said anything, but they were already worried Kate might sue after the suicide. Why give her additional ammunition?
Had Jack kidnapped her as punishment for what her mother had done? She couldn’t tell truth from lies. Maybe he was some psycho who’d picked her at random. It was possible all he’d said had been created from a little knowledge and an insane imagination.
book Page 19