The Final Goodbye

by Brittney Sahin

  “I’m a bit faint, but it could be from the drugs she gave me, too.”

  “We need to get you bandaged. Keep the shirt tight on the wound.”

  “How’d you know she had me?” Riley asked as he helped her off what she realized was a gurney from an ambulance.

  “I got an anonymous note in my locker at work, saying that you needed to die, and it was being done in my honor.”

  His eyes flashed to the floor as they walked past Mandy. She was face up. Her eyelids were closed, but blood continued to ooze from the bullet wound in her chest.

  Her nerves bundled tight and she quickly forced her gaze away.

  “Mandy’s one of the few interns I work with who has such neat writing, and so I made a guess it was her.”

  “You should have called the police. You could’ve gotten hurt,” she said, as he slowly guided her up a set of unfinished stairs.

  “I didn’t want to take the chance that the police wouldn’t get to you in time.” He spoke in a low voice once they reached the upstairs. “I was also worried they wouldn’t believe me since they think Bobby’s the killer. I mean, I thought the same way until I got the note today.”

  “I don’t know how to thank—” She cut herself off upon realizing where she was. “I don’t understand,” she murmured. “Why would Mandy bring me here? Did she know you owned this place? Has she been here before?”

  In the fifteen months that Riley had dated Daniel, she had only visited his farmhouse once. He had mentioned it in passing to her one afternoon earlier that year, and she had insisted upon taking the hour drive outside of town to see it.

  He’d bought it as an investment when he first moved to Alabama but never had time to do anything with it. Well, that’s what he’d said, at least.

  Gnarled roots and overgrown fields had surrounded the white dilapidated home. It’d have been the perfect setting for a horror movie, she had joked upon seeing it.

  And now . . .

  “I guess I mentioned it.” He lifted his shoulders before slowly dragging a palm down his face. “Luckily I had a gun in the safe upstairs.”

  “She’s clearly obsessed with you.” Like Lydia was . . . “But how’d you know she’d bring me here?”

  His gaze flickered to the shirt she held tight to her neck. “Let me get you patched up,” he said instead.

  She wanted to press for more information, but she was too disoriented. “Why don’t we wait here for the police? I don’t think we should leave,” she said after he applied a patch and some tape to the wound.

  “And I don’t want to stay here.” He nudged her in the back, directing her toward the back door, off the side of the kitchen.

  “I need to call Ben.” She turned around.

  “Why do we need to call him?”

  “I have to tell him I’m okay. He’ll be looking for me.”

  A sudden darkness blanketed his eyes. She’d never seen this look on him before, such a noticeable anger. “The son of a bitch stepped all over your heart fourteen years ago.”

  “He’s my friend. And so, I—”

  He lowered his forehead. “No.” A mirthless, haunting laugh moved through the air, taking her by surprise. “I just killed someone for you. And all you can think about is him?”

  He slammed her against the wall, and a rush of terror crawled up her spine. Her breath hitched as panic catapulted into her throat, nearly suffocating her.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” He cocked his head and mounted his hands over her shoulders, pressing them to the faded flower wallpaper. “Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you?” His nostrils flared, and he dropped his forehead to touch hers. “Sweetheart, you and I belong together. Mandy died so we could be together.”

  She shifted her head to the right to try and push him, but it was a futile attempt against his cage of a body.

  “Mandy was a murderer. She didn’t make a sacrifice.” Defiant tears gathered in her eyes.

  “Do you love Ben?”

  Yes. “Let me go. Please.”

  “Answer the goddamn question,” he growled, his minty breath on her face.

  Who the hell took the time to eat a mint on their way to rescuing someone?

  “Was Mandy telling me the truth? Did you screw him?”

  A lick of fear curled up her spine, putting her on high alert.

  “No, I love you.” Her mind raced, competing with the drugs and the lightheadedness. “I still care about you . . . I promise.”

  He pulled back and found her eyes, searching for the truth.

  “I’ve missed you,” she tried to say as calmly as possible.

  “Prove it to me.”

  She needed to get to his gun. “After the hospital, once this has all blown over”—she wrapped a hand around his waist—“we can be together.”

  He snatched her wrist before she could reach the weapon and spun her around so fast that she smashed face-first into the wall.

  “You disappoint me,” he snarled and shoved her harder, the barrel of the gun now at her temple. “This is all your fault.” A bitterness trampled his voice. “I killed her for you, but maybe she was right—you’re not worth it.”

  I’m going to die.

  “She’s all I’ve ever had, but I chose you. I fucking chose you, don’t you get that? Don’t you see how special you are to me?” A sharp sadness weaved through his words. A killer who was grieving. It was beyond fucked up.

  She thought she had known him. How could she have been so wrong? How could she have not seen the signs given her profession?

  He lowered the gun and edged back. “Maybe we can run away together.” His attention lifted to the ceiling as if in thought, as if he were working through a puzzle in his head. “You can learn to love me.”

  “I do love you. I don’t need to learn.” Her stomach protested, but she reached for his face, palming his cheek.

  “I’ll dispose of Mandy’s body,” he said a moment later. “And then we leave. We never come back.” He nodded, his eyes blank and devoid of emotion.

  Her eyes stung, and the fear of death whispered across her skin and made her body even shakier.

  His gaze softened a little as he lowered the gun. “I need to patch you up better if we’re going to be on the road.”

  “Yeah, okay.” She had to stay alive long enough for Ben to find her. He had to find her . . .

  He forced her into a bathroom, where he grabbed some supplies, and then he pushed her in the direction of the kitchen table.

  “This is going to hurt.” He eyed her neck, and she shrank back in the little neon-green vinyl chair.

  She squeezed her lids tight, not wanting to watch him work, and settled her hands on the Formica table.

  Ten minutes later, he stood from his crouched position. “You should be good, but you’ll have a scar.”

  “Thank you.” She finally opened her eyes, but found him pointing the gun at her with one hand, while extending a hand to her with the other.

  Her fingers trembled as she reached out, but then her gaze snapped over his shoulder and to the hall leading to the front door. She could have sworn she caught a glimpse of someone.

  She tried to mask her surprise, but it was too late.

  Daniel yanked her up and spun her around so her back was to his chest.

  He used her as a shield and pressed the gun to the side of her head.

  Ben. She met his blue eyes, and he gave her the slightest of nods as if he were trying to let her know it’d be okay.

  He had a gun drawn as he entered the kitchen, and his eyes dropped to the white gauze at her throat. The muscles in his neck strained before he focused on Daniel.

  “That’s far enough,” Daniel instructed.

  Ben stopped walking. “No one has to get hurt.”

  He was a Marine, she reminded herself. He’d taken down terrorists. He could take down her ex.

  “Mandy’s dead. I had to kill her,” Daniel seethed. “So, someone’s already been hurt.”
/>
  Riley had to figure a way to diffuse the situation before Daniel shot her, but fear overcrowded her mind.

  “Yeah? And when did you figure out Mandy was killing people? Before or after you started accusing Bobby?” Ben’s eyes narrowed. “I’m betting after. You would’ve done a better job at making sure the trail didn’t lead to you.”

  Daniel tightened his hold, but he didn’t say anything. She couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through his head right now.

  “It must have been difficult for you—killing your sister like that,” Ben said calmly.

  Sister? Panic caught in her throat, and she looked down at the floor, putting everything together.

  Daniel remained silent.

  “Was it you who killed your dad, or did Natalie do it?” Ben continued.

  “So you know,” Daniel finally said, a dark undertone reverberating through his speech. “And who else knows the truth?”

  “You trying to decide if you need to fake your death again and take on a new identity? Your sis was the one with the computer skills. You sure you can do it without her?”

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen again.” Daniel’s voice was lower this time, almost apologetic sounding.

  Maybe if he was torn, or capable of feeling guilt, she could talk to him—convince him to drop the gun.

  “Natalie should’ve stayed away. I asked her not to come to Alabama. She applied for the damn internship, anyway,” Daniel said, his grip on her slightly loosening.

  “Bodies do tend to pile up whenever she’s around. It must be hard to live a normal life when your sister is a psychopath.” Ben’s words contradicted the calmness of his tone.

  “No,” Riley mouthed to him, worried she was two seconds away from dying, but Ben wasn’t looking at her.

  Ben may have been a soldier, but he clearly had no idea how to talk to a mentally unstable person. He was taunting him.

  “Tell me, do you help her get away with the murders, or do you kill, too?” Ben’s eyes tightened to thin slits.

  “I don’t need to tell you anything,” Daniel replied, his voice flat and lifeless.

  “Let me help you,” Riley spoke up. “You don’t have to be a killer.”

  “Don’t psychobabble me, baby. I went to enough shrinks as a kid—I don’t need another one in my ear.” His fingertips dug into her flesh, and the feel of the twitch of his cock hardening from behind had her nauseated.

  Did the bastard get off on her fear? Shit, had she made things worse?

  “Talk to me then,” Ben said, lifting his chin. “Brag to me about how you’ve gotten away with murder for decades. When did you realize that your sister was as fucked up as you?”

  Ben quickly looked at Riley, and she witnessed confidence in his eyes.

  “Was it your idea for her to go to med school when she began her new life?” Ben asked. “Didn’t you think that’d be risky for someone like her to have power to control whether someone lived or died on a regular basis?”

  “You have it backward,” Daniel said, but once again eased up on the grasp he had around her waist. “It was my way of helping her control her urges. You see, having such control over life or death is therapeutic. It helped keep her calm.”

  “Guess you’d know. That’s why you became a doc, right? The killer gene run in the family?” Ben arched a brow. “Did you ever get tired of cleaning up her messes, though? For getting blamed for the murders she committed?” Ben’s eyes followed Daniel’s hand as it skated up Riley’s stomach. “You’re the smarter one, right? The more in-control one. Did you give her the idea of the campus serial killer to cover up for the murder of her boyfriend?”

  Riley’s mind spun as she replayed Ben’s words.

  Ben shrugged lightly. “Doesn’t really matter, though, does it?”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t matter,” Daniel said in an eerily steady voice. “I’ll be taking Riley with me, and you can spend your days looking over your shoulder—wondering when I’ll be coming for you.”

  A quick smile met Ben’s lips, one that Riley recognized.

  He had a plan.

  “You really think so?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah, I do—”

  A scream, like that of a dying animal, pierced the room as Daniel’s body hit the floor.

  Blood was everywhere.

  A stickiness touched her skin, and she blinked, disoriented.

  “Riley.” Ben gathered her in his arms a second later.

  “You shot him,” she said in a daze. “And, oh my God, you didn’t miss.”

  Ben pulled back and held her face as if worried she’d look back at Daniel and faint.

  “I didn’t take the shot.”

  “What?” She lifted her eyes to find Aiden standing there, tucking a gun into the back of his jeans.

  “Ben was the distraction. I had to get into position to get a clean shot,” Aiden explained. “He was buying us time.”

  Ben gently gripped her forearms, but he peered back at Aiden. “You should leave. The police will be here soon.”

  “Leave?” she murmured, confused.

  Aiden gave her a curt nod. “Glad you’re okay.” And then as fast as he had appeared—he left.

  “The police are coming?” She touched her wound. It was still tender, but that didn’t matter so much anymore, did it?

  She was in a house with two dead people: one she’d shared her secrets with, and the other she’d had sex with. How would she ever recover from that?

  But she was alive.

  She had to try and focus on that.

  No more people would die.

  “We had a fifteen-minute head start on the sheriff.” He eyed her wound. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I, uh, still don’t understand this all.”

  “It’s a little complicated.”

  “You were right about everything, though. You never gave up.”

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you. This house is listed under one of his other names.”

  Other names? She didn’t know what to say. She had so much on her mind, but—

  “Aiden can catch you up. A lot happened while you scared the shit out of me by vanishing.” He palmed her face again, and she noticed liquid in his eyes. “I was terrified I was going to lose you. I’m so damn thankful that didn’t happen.” His voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek.

  She collapsed against him. “Thank you.” He tipped her chin up. “Why’d Aiden have to go in such a rush?”

  He shoved his hands through her hair and held her eyes. “Because I’ll be going to jail tonight, and I didn’t want him along for the ride.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Don’t! Please,” Riley yelled, as an officer held onto her forearm, preventing her from reaching for Ben.

  The sheriff nudged Ben in the back, directing him into the squad car, but he didn’t get in.

  It took three people to hold Ben back from getting to Riley. One burly guy clung to his midsection from behind, while the other men wrapped their arms around Ben’s biceps, digging their heels into the ground to use their weight to keep him from launching forward.

  Ben continued to struggle but glanced at the sheriff over his shoulder. “Let her go, and I’ll get in the car.”

  The sheriff huffed, but he finally nodded in the direction of the men holding Riley.

  The moment she was free, she tore toward him.

  Her arms looped around his neck, and he pressed his cheek to hers. “It’ll be okay. I promise,” he said softly.

  “No, I need you. I don’t understand why they’re doing this.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ll call you as soon as I can. Stay with your parents or Aiden, okay?”

  The sheriff tugged at Ben’s arm. “That’s enough. Get in the car.”

  But she wouldn’t drop her hold of him.

  “If they grab you again, I’ll lose my control,” he said once she found his eyes. “You have to l
et go.”

  She nodded and finally dropped her hands from his shoulders.

  She took a step back, and Ben relaxed his stance.

  “I can get in myself,” he said gruffly to the sheriff and lowered himself into the car.

  He mouthed something before the door was closed, and she was pretty sure he’d said I love you.

  * * *

  “We have two more dead bodies. Six in total.” The sheriff rubbed his palms up and down his face.

  Would he believe the truth?

  She wasn’t sure.

  “Let Ben out of jail. He doesn’t belong in there.” She was sitting in front of his desk this time, which was better than being in that little interrogation room.

  “He belongs in there. I gave him direct orders not to enter the house . . . or kill anyone. He knew what would happen, and he did it, anyway.”

  “It was self-defense!”

  It’d been four hours since Daniel had been killed, and she’d spent the last two hours at the hospital.

  As soon as the ER doctor cleared her, the sheriff had taken her straight to the station.

  “Daniel had a gun to my head. What did you expect Ben to do?” She fought back the tears that loomed once again. She’d been crying on and off since she’d left the farmhouse. And when she’d seen her parents at the hospital, she’d flat-out broken down.

  She figured Aiden and Ava hadn’t shown up at the ER because they were working on a plan to get Ben out. She hoped so, at least.

  “Did you tell Ben’s parents, yet?” she asked when the sheriff didn’t respond. He was on his computer now, and he wouldn’t even look her direction.

  Her fingertips bit into her quads. She was mentally and physically tired, and all she wanted was to go to sleep and then to wake up and have this all be over.

  “Let’s worry about you right now.” He leaned back in his chair, appearing almost as exhausted as she felt.

  “And what about me?”

  “Tell me from the beginning what happened.” He turned on the recorder, and his hands settled in his lap.

  “I was with Mandy at O’Hanlon’s. When I went to the bathroom, she came in with a scalpel and stabbed me in the neck with a needle.” The memory of what happened was much clearer now. “The drug made me super drowsy, but I didn’t lose total consciousness at first. Mandy shoved me out the back door, and it was like I couldn’t seem to stop her, or even scream. I was in some sort of daze.”