Banish

by Nicola Marsh

  He glanced away, but not before I glimpsed the horrors he’d endured. “If not for you, Noah would never have had to see the agony we went through.” He gritted his teeth before continuing. “Noah saved us, took us away from all that.”

  He jabbed a finger in my direction. “Then he had to hook up with you, spend all his time in Broadwater, and ended up at that stupid fair where Massimo saw him dancing with you.”

  As Seth’s warped logic clicked into place, the truth detonated. Had I inadvertently been the cause of Massimo discovering the whereabouts of the kids he’d ritually abused?

  “Yeah, that’s right. Massimo saw Noah and followed him back to Broad River, discovered our hideaway.” The loathing in his voice made my knees wobble. “Jayne and I would’ve done anything to protect Noah, but then he came home early that day to get ready for a stupid picnic with you…What he endured? Your fault.” He took another step closer. “He died because of you.”

  Sick to my stomach, I searched my scrambled head for something to say, something to placate him. I settled for a simple, “I’m sorry.”

  “Bullshit! You weren’t sorry. You couldn’t get away from town fast enough after Noah died,” he yelled, the vein in his neck bulging to apoplectic proportions. “Heartless bitch.”

  By the psychotic glint in Seth’s eyes, nothing I could say or do would change the outcome of today.

  He wanted me dead.

  And I’d been stupid enough to walk straight into his trap.

  I had to keep him talking to buy time to come up with a plan other than make a run for it and get killed by a nutcase. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  Cocky, he squared his shoulders. “I knew you’d head home the minute you saw Sammy on that second music clip. And you’re such an investigative geek at school, I knew you’d poke around town ’til you discovered links to this house. So when you left the city, I followed and waited here.”

  He snickered. “Not like I haven’t followed you before.”

  I glared at him, hating that this psycho had witnessed a sacred, precious moment when I’d found closure with Noah. And had ruined it by digging up that special necklace.

  He frowned. “Have to admit, I thought it’d take you longer. When you rang? I’d only just managed to wipe the house clean.” He leered at me. “This was Noah’s place and the least I can do is leave it spotless for when the cops scour it looking for you.”

  I remembered the clunking noises from that phone call last night, and the thought of him methodically cleaning the house from top to bottom in preparation for my arrival made me shiver.

  Faking bravado I didn’t feel, I eyeballed him. “My mom knows I’m here. You won’t get away with this.”

  He laughed, loud and soulless. “Here’s a tip. Law enforcement in these hokey towns? Dumb as dog shit. If they don’t believe kids reporting abuse, you think they’ll believe an alcoholic mom raving about her daughter’s disappearance?”

  Uh-oh. So he had plans to take me somewhere before he killed me.

  “That’s right.” He waved a hand between us. “You and me? We’re taking a little trip, before I…” His sickening gaze slid over me from head to foot, excruciatingly slow, as he took another step closer.

  Head for the kitchen.

  A voice spoke directly into my head.

  I froze.

  That voice…it sounded like…Noah?

  Frantic, I glanced around. Was Seth still playing tricks? But one look at his unchanged loony expression told me he hadn’t heard the voice.

  Which meant…

  Hell no. Not now. Not here. Not like this.

  Lyssie, it’s okay. I’m here to help.

  Oh my god. Only Noah had ever called me Lyssie. In private. A nickname I couldn’t stand but abided because it was Noah’s name for me.

  No. This couldn’t be real. I was hallucinating from panic, wishing I had someone to protect me. It was the only explanation that made sense.

  Not the only explanation…Noah said, reinforcing what I didn’t want to believe.

  The implications of Mom’s soul retriever revelations crashed over me in a tsunami of realisation. If what Seth had said was true and Noah had been a victim of Massimo’s sadistic tendencies, being bashed and forced to watch his siblings’ abuse, then part of his soul was still here…

  Lyssie, I unlocked the back door. Go now. Escape through the kitchen.

  “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but stall all you like. It’s not going to change the outcome.” He mimicked strangling me with his bare hands and grinned.

  My knees trembled as I stood rooted to the spot, petrified. I wasn’t sure what terrified me more—the psycho wanting to kill me or the possibility I could hear my dead boyfriend talking to me.

  I glimpsed movement behind Seth, and watched in disbelief as a vase toppled off a cabinet.

  I made my move as it crashed to the floor. Seth whirled around at the sound and gave me an open line to the door.

  I bolted for the kitchen, hoping I wouldn’t slip in my own puke and get taken down that way as I passed the attic.

  Run faster, Alyssa. Seth’s a sadistic bastard. Sorry I didn’t get to warn you sooner.

  I stumbled, Sammy’s apology throwing me as I ran under the attic’s trapdoor, so close to another victim, another voice…

  I wanted to cower in a corner and cover my ears but I didn’t have that luxury.

  Seth thundered along the hall behind me, a stream of obscenities spilling from his mouth. As I skidded into the kitchen, I knew I wouldn’t have time to unlatch the back door even if it was unlocked.

  I spun to face him and braced against the bench, and that’s when I felt it. A thick, viscous numbness flowing through my veins, like the time I’d had an anaesthetic to fix a busted leg. I had that same floaty feeling now—present in the moment but detached enough to be watching myself.

  Detachment was good.

  Detachment meant I could do anything and justify it.

  He’s too cocky to use a weapon. He’ll strangle you ’til you pass out, then he’ll tie you up, take you some place else and then torture you. Don’t let him take you.

  The familiarity of Noah’s voice made me want to cry. There was so much I wanted to say to him, so much I now understood.

  But this wasn’t the time to test my newfound skills.

  Time to put the past to rest.

  I edged towards the door leading to freedom and clasped the knife, its weight reassuring in my hand. Ignoring the pain in my palm where it had accidentally sliced as I’d bolted to escape, I focused on the kitchen door and waited. Waited for him to come after me.

  A shadow fell across the doorway and using both hands I raised the knife, holding it high and extended, like a Samurai. He stopped at the kitchen door, malevolence radiating off him. He raised a finger and drew it across his throat in a slow, deliberate slit. “You’re dead.”

  He stepped into the kitchen, the complete absence of emotion in his icy glare almost as terrifying as the slow, methodical curling and unfurling of his fingers. I had no doubt those fingers would end up wrapped around my throat.

  “Give me the knife, bitch.”

  The insult didn’t freak me out as much as the uncanny timbre of his voice; how much he sounded like Noah. Wish I’d heard the resemblance sooner. It would have saved me the hassle of carving up his ass. For there was thing I was sure of: I’d managed to endure this god-awful week so far, no way would I go down without a fight.

  My trembling fingers convulsed around the knife, gripping the splintered wooden handle tighter as I lowered it to chest level. “Make me.”

  The eyes of the guy I’d once trusted glowed with hatred.

  A second before he lunged at me.

  I feinted to the right, slammed my hip against the sink and cried out in pain.

  He laughed, a chilling sound that had me scrabbling faster as he came straight for me.

  I swept the glass on the draining board to the floor and do
dged to the left.

  He kept coming.

  Panic clogged my throat as I slipped and rebounded off the wall, hard enough to rattle the crockery in the dresser. I should have baulked, should have screamed, should have run. Instead, an inner strength I hadn’t known I possessed snapped its leash. Clawed its way to the surface, howling for freedom.

  He must have seen something in my expression, because he hesitated.

  I didn’t.

  I screamed my fury, desperate to lash out.

  Unable to rein in my rage, I slashed. Slicing air with a definitive whoosh. Showing him I wouldn’t make this easy for him. Unwittingly taunting him with my defiance.

  He came at me like a wild animal. Teeth bared. Making a god-awful growling sound I would never forget if I made it out of this alive.

  But I was ready for him. I swung the knife in an upward arc, putting all my weight behind the thrust.

  And met resistance: metal against flesh.

  His scream of agony shredded my eardrums but I leaned in harder. Driving the knife deeper. Embedding it to the hilt in the squishy, bloodied mess I’d made of his armpit.

  He staggered backwards and fell to his knees.

  I jiggled the back door lock and sent a silent thank you heavenward when it unlocked first try.

  I stumbled out into the fresh air, momentarily blinded. Unsure whether to run for the main road or hide in the forest and dial for help, I hesitated a second before fumbling in my pocket for my cell.

  Icy, clammy fingers wrapped around my ankle.

  I screamed and tried to kick him off but he dug in harder, yanking me off balance.

  I tripped and went down hard, the crack of my tailbone against the rotting veranda sounding like a gunshot. I lashed out with my free leg in a kicking frenzy, the inner strength I’d unleashed enjoying his moans of pain each time I connected with his arm, his shoulder, his head. Whatever I could get.

  His left arm hung uselessly at his side but still he hung on to me, his right hand finally letting go when I jammed my heel into his fingertips.

  He howled and rolled away, lying in a crumpled heap.

  I tried to stand but couldn’t, the stabbing pain from my butt ricocheting up my spine like I’d been skewered.

  I dialled 911. The agonising seconds ticked by while I waited to be connected.

  Roll to the right.

  Do it.

  Now!

  I didn’t believe in ghosts.

  I didn’t believe in lost souls.

  But something or someone had helped me back in that house and that someone sounded like Noah, so when I heard his urgent order I didn’t question it.

  Clutching the phone so tight I thought it would shatter, I rolled to my right.

  Just as Seth reared up with the bloodied knife and stabbed it into the wood where I’d been lying a moment ago.

  This time, when I lashed out with my foot, the heel of my shoe landed with a satisfying thud to his temple, knocking him out cold.

  The discombobulated sounds of the dispatcher’s voice filtered through the cell and I raised it to my ear, managing to whisper out my location and situation.

  Ten minutes, I was advised.

  I had to lie here for ten freaking minutes until help arrived.

  A whimper escaped my lips as I raised myself onto my elbows and started dragging myself backwards, using my feet as leverage.

  I couldn’t stay here, next to him.

  With every clunk of my elbows against the boards as I scuttled away, I remembered moments of our supposed friendship over the past few months at Fields High.

  Our first meeting.

  Our first study date.

  Our first A+ assignment, which we’d celebrated over putrid cafeteria coffee.

  All of it was a lie.

  My lips stung and I flicked out my tongue and tasted saltiness, from tears he didn’t deserve.

  My cell rang and when I saw the caller ID, the last of my self-control disintegrated.

  “Alyssa, I just got your message. What were you thinking, heading to Broad River without me. Stay put, don’t go to that house—”

  “I need you, Mom,” I whispered, dragging in deep breaths, the air rasping across my vocal cords like sandpaper, as the sobs I’d been battling spewed forth in a torrent. “Please come.”

  The cell fell from my fingers as I curled up in a ball and sobbed until I had nothing left, my watchful gaze never leaving Seth’s unconscious body.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  MOM STUCK HER head around my bedroom door. “You have a visitor.”

  I rolled onto my side, wincing with the effort. “Who is it?”

  If I had to give one more statement to police I’d go insane, and Seth would have achieved his objective.

  Mom’s gentle smile clued me in that I wouldn’t mind this visitor. “Ronan.”

  Probably a mental thing, but the throbbing ache in my lower back eased. “Send him in.”

  She paused, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “He’s hot,” she mouthed, making me blush as she opened the door wider and ushered him in.

  I couldn’t help it, I cried—a trickle of tears that turned into full-on waterworks when he sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around me. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, his warm breath fanning my hair and his strong arms holding me tight. When I’d drenched his T-shirt, I gave a pathetic sniffle and eased back to stare at him through watery eyes.

  “Lys, I’m so sorry.”

  “You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” I placed my fingers against his lips, my heart giving a funny little jive when he kissed them.

  “I didn’t think…I mean, I never imagined this was all some convoluted revenge plot from that guy you knew at school.”

  I shook my head, still having trouble comprehending I’d befriended a murderer.

  “I had a feeling some bad shit was going down when you headed back here.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin, a deep vertical groove slashing his brows. “Then when you answered my call and sounded so strung out the other night…I mean, I never thought…Fuck, you could have been killed.”

  He bundled me into his arms again and I finally relaxed for the first time since the paramedics had brought me home from the hospital. Everything would be okay. Seth would be put away and I could continue studying in New York City with my amazing boyfriend beside me every step of the way.

  But as Ronan released me, smoothing the strands of hair off my forehead, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Not after what had really happened in that house in Broad River. Hearing Noah’s voice? And Sammy’s? Changed everything.

  He captured my chin, his thumb rubbing along my jaw, his soft touch better than the pain meds I’d been having four hourly. “I’ll stay in town for a bit.”

  Touched that he’d rejig his manic schedule for me, I clung to him. “When’s that producer coming to watch your gig?”

  He looked away. “Tonight.”

  “You can’t miss that.” I gently shoved him. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  I kissed him, relying on my actions rather than words to show him how much he meant to me. When we came up for air, he was grinning like he’d signed a record deal with Sony.

  “I’ll be okay. Mom wants me to stay a few days to recover but I’ll be back next week and we’ll catch up then.”

  “You sure?” His hand rested on my leg beneath the covers, making me decidedly unsure. “Because I’m happy to bus it down here every day if it means seeing you.”

  “Ninety minutes each way?” I slapped him playfully on the chest to stop from bawling again. “Save some of that schmoozing for when I make it back to the city.”

  I crooked a finger and he obliged, leaning forward with his ear within whispering distance. “I plan on spending lots of quality time with my boyfriend.”

  I nibbled beneath his ear, enjoying his shudder of pleasure.

  “Stop that. I have to walk out of here in front of your mom,” he said, laughingly h
olding me at arm’s length while my hand slid up his thigh.

  “Lys…”

  I kissed away his warning, savouring his minty taste and warm lips and teasing tongue, relishing the obliteration of everything bar his heat. Sadly the kiss had to end. And the confronting reality I’d rather forget returned.

  He pretended to tickle me. “You know I’m going to bug you every day with constant calls and texts and emails, right?”

  “You better.” I hung onto his T-shirt a moment longer before reluctantly releasing him.

  He touched my cheek. “I was thinking of writing you a new song?”

  I knew what he was asking. Was I ready to open a music clip from him again after all that had happened?

  That clip had been the start of an escalating nightmare, culminating in my brush with death this morning, but as I looked into those guileless hazel eyes I knew opening a music clip from him would be the least of my problems over the next week.

  “Sure, I’d like that.”

  “Cool.” He pulled me close for one last kiss that left us breathless, before backing towards the door, not wanting to break eye contact.

  “See you soon.”

  “Absolutely.”

  I smiled as he waved and slipped out the door, wishing I could hang onto this feeling of contentment but knowing it would be short-lived. I’d been interrogated by police, paramedics and a doctor today but had avoided Mom. She’d left me alone until now, coming into my room all afternoon to check on me and leaving quietly when I’d faked sleep under a cloud of painkillers.

  But now Ronan had visited and she’d seen me awake, I knew she would want to chat. Not that I had anything to say. I’d already made up my mind not to mention the voices at the house. If she thought for one moment I was showing signs of being a soul retriever…I shuddered and hunkered further into the blankets.

  Damn fractured coccyx. If I hadn’t broken my tailbone when I’d slipped on that veranda, I would have stayed an extra day max and then headed back to New York City pronto. Now I would have to rest up for a week, doctor’s orders, then use some stupid rubber ring cushion to sit on. I had seven long days to pretend to Mom that nothing had changed, like having my dead ex help me survive had meant little.