“So where to? I swear, Mac, you’re taking me on a joyride here.”
I entered the address into my phone’s GPS and gave him directions, and fifteen minutes later he parked across the street from the bustling Starbucks where I was due to meet Hamilton Payne.
“You gotta give me some answers.” His fingers tapped a frustrated beat against the steering wheel. “You’ve had seven hours to come clean about all this.” His gesture encompassed the busy street and sidewalks. “Why are we here?”
“You didn’t have to come along,” I reminded him. “I didn’t ask you to.”
Joe sighed and dropped back against the headrest.
Sitting still was impossible. My foot bounced against the floorboard as I stared across the street. The chaotic atmosphere surrounding the coffee shop was no doubt the result of Black Friday. People cluttered the sidewalks, bumping into each other as they entered and exited the neighboring shops, most struggling to carry their packages.
A black Mercedes pulled into a space across from where we’d parked. I recognized Hamilton instantly. His tall, imposing build wasn’t easy to forget.
This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.
I got out of the car before I chickened out. “Stay here.” I slammed the door, silencing Joe’s protests, and took my time crossing the street. A breeze disrupted my hair, and I pulled my jacket tighter. Trees lined the sidewalk, their sparse leaves glittering like spun gold in the sun’s last rays of light.
I welcomed the warmth of the coffee shop and rubbed my hands together as I searched the interior for Hamilton. I found him seated at a small table in the far corner away from the other customers. Needing something to keep my hands busy, I ordered a mocha and then forced my feet in his direction.
His expression was unreadable as I slid in across from him. He took a sip from his cup and pierced me with cool, hazel eyes. “You said you needed to talk to me about Aidan?”
“I only said that to get you here.”
He clenched his jaw. “Of course you did. Well I’m here. What do you want?”
“Do you remember a woman named Jane Hill?”
He blinked. “Can’t say I do.”
I took a sip of my mocha and swallowed, despite the scalding temperature. “She grew up in Watcher’s Point.” I paused for a beat. “She’s my mom.”
He tapped his fingers against the tabletop. “What does this have to do with me?”
“According to my mom, everything. Please, it’s important. Do you know her? Her name’s Jane Hill,” I repeated. “You would have crossed paths with her in 1989. Her husband had just passed, and she had three kids back then.”
He rubbed his chin. “The real question here is why are you harassing me about her?”
“She said . . . she claims you’re my father.”
He actually laughed. “You should have come up with something more original. You’re not the first ‘kid’ to come knocking on my wallet.”
“This isn’t about money.” I swallowed and prayed my hyperactive emotions wouldn’t make an appearance.
Hamilton rose and, casting a furtive glance around us, schooled his features into a neutral mask. For the first time since arriving, I noticed the audience we’d attracted. “Find someone else to scam, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from my son.” He turned his back to me, and I felt as insignificant as a fly.
“Hamilton.” My voice splintered on his name. He turned and regarded me with an air of annoyance, and something inside me snapped. I grabbed the cup he’d left and dumped black coffee down the front of his immaculate suit.
He took a threatening step toward me, eyes narrowed. “Do you know who you’re dealing with?”
I held back tears as I stepped around him. “Yes, I think I do. No wonder Aidan can’t stand you.” I went to move toward the door, but his hand shot out and stopped me. I whirled, about to demand he remove his hand, but his stunned expression paralyzed me.
He opened his mouth and worked his jaw, but instead of speaking, he yanked me closer. His fist enclosed my wrist, and a long moment snuck by as he gaped at me.
“You see things,” he said, his voice low enough to avoid being overheard.
“Excuse me?”
“Your power. I can feel it.”
I tried to pull away, but he only tightened his grip.
“Have you told Aidan about this? About what your mother claims?”
I gulped. “N-no. Is . . . is it true?”
Say no. Say this is a fluke. A morbid joke. Anything. Just say—
“You have power. I’d recognize it anywhere. We need a DNA test to be certain.”
I jerked from his grasp and my heart stopped. The glint in his eyes had changed. I no longer annoyed him; I intrigued him.
“No . . .” I shook my head helplessly. “It’s not true.” I heard him call after me as I bolted from the coffee shop, bumping into faceless people as I ran. I didn’t stop or look back until I threw myself into the passenger seat of my car. Hamilton stood across the street, searching the crowd of shoppers for me.
“What’s going on?” Joe asked.
I shook my head and sank low in my seat. “Just go. Get me out of here now.”
* * *
“You’re freaking me out, Mac.”
I was freaking myself out. I couldn’t stop crying and was almost hyperventilating as the truth crashed over me.
OhGodohGodohGod . . .
I’d slept with my brother. I was in love with my brother.
“Come on. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Not now,” I said on a hiccup. Curling into a ball, I turned my back to him and let the sobs consume me. He pulled onto the shoulder of the highway and then gathered me against him. His arms wound around me, unrelenting yet strangely comforting. I clung to that comfort, afraid I’d break if I didn’t have something to hold on to.
“Mac, please.”
I couldn’t speak and after a while he gave up trying to pry it from me. By the time my tears dried, the temperature had dropped inside the car, and a deep chill crawled underneath my skin.
He rubbed the goose bumps from my arms. “I was thinking about stopping to get something to eat. Are you hungry?” His voice dropped, and I knew him well enough to know what he was doing. Trying to pull me out of my despair. Trying to distract me.
“I’m not hungry.” My stomach flopped at the thought.
Without another word, he steered the car back onto the highway. The road disappeared underneath us, and I practically heard the wheels in his head spinning from where I sat. He took the next exit and pulled into a Burger King drive-thru.
“You haven’t eaten much today. You’ve gotta be hungry,” he said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Just order your food.” I winced at my short tone. “I’ll think about it.”
The idea of unloading on someone was tempting. Heat flooded my cheeks at the thought of telling him the entire truth. No way could I tell my ex that I’d slept with my brother.
“That smells disgusting,” I complained, cracking my window and allowing the crisp air in. “I’ll never figure out how you can eat and drive without wearing at least half of it.”
He greeted me with a boyish grin. “What can I say? I’m the shit.” When he failed to get a response from me, he added, “Okay, Mac. What’s going on? Lay it on me. You’ll feel better.”
“Thomas Hill wasn’t my father.” The words escaped and hung in the air.
He wadded up the burger wrapper and tossed it in the bag. “What do you mean?”
“My mom lied to me.”
“Oh, man.” His shocked, blue-eyed gaze met mine. “So that’s the reason for this trip?”
I nodded. “I met my . . . my father.”
He raised a brow. “And it didn’t go well?”
“No.” I gnawed on my lower lip and watched as Tacoma sped by.
“What did he tell you? Di
d he deny it?”
“No.” I leaned against my window and closed my eyes, concentrating only on the hum of the road. Hamilton had known about my ability. A simple touch and he’d known. I still couldn’t grasp it, and I didn’t want to think about what it meant.
Joe fell silent. I wasn’t sure if he was giving me space to process, or if he didn’t know what else to say, but conversation was non-existent after that. I was too upset to let sleep take me so I gladly took over the wheel in Portland. He immediately fell asleep in the passenger seat, and the quiet wasn’t so disturbing with his soft snores filling the air.
All I could think of was Aidan. Nausea hit me, becoming more intense the closer we got to Watcher’s Point. I mentally rehearsed what I’d say and tried to think of the right words to use. Nothing sounded right. How would I ever face him again once he knew the truth? I’d have to tell him everything and then leave Watcher’s Point permanently. Move on. Never look back.
As the thought percolated through my head, I glanced into the rearview mirror at the blinding headlights following too closely. “What is up with this idiot?” I let out a curse and stepped on the gas, but the car kept pace.
“What’s going on?” Joe asked, stirring in his seat.
“This guy won’t get off my tail.”
He sat up straight and cranked his neck to see. “Where are we?”
“About ten miles outside of Watcher’s Point.”
“I’d slow down just to piss him off.”
I laughed. “I know you would. I’ve lost count of how many tailgaters you’ve driven mad.” The car behind us swerved into the oncoming lane and sped past, and only then did I realize a cop had been tailing us.
“Unbelievable!” Joe exclaimed. “That’s exactly why I don’t like cops. They think they own the road.”
We reached my apartment a few minutes after midnight. “Thanks for tagging along,” I said wryly, thinking of how he’d wormed his way into my car. Part of me was glad he’d come. The drive would have been long and lonely without someone along for the ride.
Joe gave me a funny look when I failed to shut off the ignition. “You’re going to see him, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“I’ll follow you in my car.”
“No.” Absolutely not. No way did I want him knowing where Aidan lived. He was being much too pushy as it was. “I’ll be fine.”
“You can’t go by yourself, Mac.”
“Well that’s the beauty of us no longer being together—you don’t get a say in what I do. Go home.”
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
I inhaled and counted to ten. “His place isn’t far. I just need a few minutes alone.”
His expression softened, and I knew he was going to relent. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Fine,” he said as he opened the door, “but I’m calling you in a few minutes to make sure you get there okay. You better answer.”
“I will. Tell my mom I’m okay, will you?”
“Sure, but we’re not done. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I waited until he backed down the driveway before calling Aidan, but he didn’t answer. A chill went through me, and suddenly, I couldn’t wait to see him.
As I drove toward HWY 101, I realized how weird being alone was. Other than last night, the majority of which I’d spent in my apartment alternating between crying and scrubbing away the black grime, this was the first time in weeks I’d had to myself.
Bright, colorful lights flashed in the rearview mirror. I checked my speed, but going five over the limit didn’t normally catch the police’s radar. Just my luck. I’d probably caught the attention of a cop who needed to fill his quota.
I let off the accelerator and steered the car onto the shoulder. Fog drifted on the highway, and the lights atop the patrol car turned the scene into a misty kaleidoscope of color. My cell phone vibrated on the console, the display lighting the darkness with its soft glow. I switched off the ignition and answered the call.
“I just got pulled over. I’ll have to call you back.”
“Speeding to get to lover boy, huh?” Joe let out a derisive laugh, and I knew he was using sarcasm to hide his hurt.
The officer approached the driver’s side, his flashlight bouncing with his steps. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you when I get there.”
I raised my gaze to the window, but the beam blinded me. The window shattered before anything else registered. A scream tore from my throat, and the last thing I remembered was Joe’s frantic voice in my ear as the pain in my head pulled me under.
27. Being Conscious is Overrated
I awoke in murky stages, the first being a nauseating sense of movement. The second was the realization that something was wrong. Horribly wrong. The third was the clearest and the most horrifying—my wrists were tied together as were my ankles.
A low groan vibrated in my throat as I pulled at the bindings. Despite the persistent throb at my temples, I focused on the misty recollections; the wafting fog on the highway, the beam of a flashlight, and the splintering sound of glass.
I forced my eyes open and met total blackness. My cheek rested against the floor of what I assumed was a van, and a putrid smell burned my nose—an odorous mixture of mildew and bleach. I held my breath as the vehicle bounced over uneven ground, and my ribs hit the floor hard with each lurch.
Where the heck am I?
The floodgates opened, and the memory of flashing lights hit me like a cold fist.
A cop . . . oh my God.
My heart beat out of control as I tried to remember more, but I drew a blank. There was only Joe’s voice in my ear. Or had I imagined that? No. I remembered answering the phone, remembered a blinding light and an explosion of pain in my head . . . then nothing.
“Don’t panic,” I chanted in a whisper as I tested the rope. Come on! I slid my wrists back and forth, and the knot loosened the slightest bit as the van came to a violent stop. The engine shut off, and I didn’t dare move or make a peep. A door creaked open and then slammed with an echo. I ceased to breathe as his footfalls drew closer, crunching on gravel with each step. I counted them.
One, two, three, four, five . . .
Keys jingled from the other side, and the handle squeaked and turned. The van dipped under his weight as he entered. I wished I could see him, but I was lying on my stomach, completely vulnerable.
“Where am I?” It wasn’t the question I wanted to ask—the one I could barely think of.
What are you going to do to me?
My body went rigid as he came near. He rolled me to my back with rough hands, and his silhouette loomed large, a dark shadow blocking the light of the waning moon. He shifted, causing the moon’s beam to glint off the cigarette lighter in his hand.
“No . . .” My plea came out a squeak, an ineffectual cry for mercy. I was only an object to him, something to torture and kill for his perverse pleasure.
I squeezed my eyes shut and yanked at the rope, ignoring the pain biting into my wrists. Hysteria wouldn’t help my situation, so I held it in. In fact, from what I knew of the Hangman, my cries and pleas would only heighten his pleasure . . . his arousal. Vomit burned in my throat, accompanying the rancid taste of fear, but I forced my eyes open anyway.
He sparked the lighter to life, and the flame illuminated his face. His eyes peered at me, two expressionless voids holding no remorse for what he’d done to all of those other women.
For what he was about to do to me.
His expression was so empty—distorted into something unrecognizable—that it took me a few seconds to realize who towered over me. I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.
Judd McFayden.
“Why?” My voice broke on the question, but he didn’t answer. A tear slid down my cheek as acceptance nicked at my composure. I wasn’t getting out of this. Aidan would find my body—just like we’d found Six. Just like he’d found his wife. I didn’t know how I knew
, but I did. Judd would dangle my death in front of him like a trophy. A muffled sob escaped. Not panicking was impossible.
For all the times I’d witnessed the murders of other women in my dreams, I’d failed to see my own.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said, coming closer and letting the flame of his lighter lick my cheek. I shrank away with a whimper. “I’m gonna untie your feet and you’re gonna get out. And don’t even think about testing me.” He exited the van and released my ankles. “Get out slowly.”
Slow was the only speed I could go with my hands tied behind my back. My legs shook as I touched ground, and they buckled. Sharp rocks bit into my knees.
No. Don’t give up. Fight, dammit!
He wrenched me up by the hair, and I struck without thinking, digging my knee into his groin with as much force as I could manage. He let go, and as he spat a litany of obscenities, I ran for the trees, kicking up dust and rock in my wake. I heard him coming after me, his heavy steps pounding the earth. Thick fog blanketed the trees, and I prayed it would be enough to cover me. I tripped over a rock and tumbled to the ground.
“There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart!” he shouted.
Oh God . . . get up! Go, go, go!
No matter how fast I ran, it wasn’t fast enough. I struggled against the rope, trying to free my hands as I stumbled over rocks and tree roots. Hot tears blinded me, but I kept going, ignoring the twigs and branches that scratched my face.
The shoreline of the lake came into view. I skidded to a stop against a tree, unwilling to leave the cover of fog, and sucked in lungfuls of air. His footsteps were gone.
Don’t panic. Think! Need to find help.
I pulled at the rope again, but after several minutes of trying to get free without success, I went limp against the tree. That was when a small structure in the distance, maybe a quarter mile down the lake, beckoned me with a single porch light leading the way. I blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t seeing an apparition. Pushing away from the tree, I took off for it. Leaves crunched behind me, and I whirled, hoping to find glowing eyes, a burly bear; heck, I’d settle for a mountain lion at this point. Anything but him. A raccoon skittered from the brush and raced behind a tree.
Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) Page 22