by Sara Cate
“You’re the filth, you sick fuck.”
Another sinister laugh falls off his lips. “Say what you will. It doesn’t matter now. What does matter is how shocked your friends and family will be when they find you both in a lover’s embrace, a suicide note explaining how guilt-ridden you both are. Stepsiblings who fell in love. Too mortified to go on living, so they die in each other’s arms, having taken their lives.”
My world spins. Suicide. Taking each other’s lives. “No, you can’t—”
He reaches behind him. When his hand comes back around, a gun is pointed at me. “I can. I thought I saw something in you, thought you were the one, but you had to be a bad little girl. Things could have been different for us.”
Hunter becomes animalistic, fighting through his restraints. “Leave her alone. You wanna hurt someone, hurt me. I came on to her.”
Taunting laughter travels up his throat, but he doesn’t acknowledge Hunter. His eyes are sinister and penetrating as they gaze down at me. I feel trapped by his cruel stare, his words wearing me down. “Mr. Gibson, please. Don’t do this. I’ll do what you want. You want me? You can have me.”
“Cat, no!” Hunter yells, but I ignore him.
“Let him go. We can leave together. You can have me.”
“Cat, please—”
“Shut up,” Mr. Gibson shouts at Hunter. There’s a tick in his jaw. His attention is back on me. “You’re lying. You think I’m going to fall for that again?” Agitation flashes across his face. “You think you can fool me again!”
He jabs the gun at me, and I cry out, “No! Please. You’re right. I came on to you. The moment I saw you, I was instantly attracted to you. I was distant because it was wrong of me. I should’ve never put you in that position.” His stare burns through me, searching for lies. “I want you. If you’ll still have me. But not if you have blood on your hands.”
“He is not walking out of here—”
“Then neither are we. I don’t want to have to spend our lives running. If you kill him, we will. I can’t risk losing you if we get caught.”
My lies burn like acid against my tongue. I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend before I break down. Maybe we have a chance if I can just get him to put the gun down and leave with me. “Please,” I beg again, my voice soft, pleading.
Mr. Gibson peers over at Hunter. “Why do you want him to live? He took advantage of you.”
I force my voice to remain indifferent. “Because I thought I couldn’t have you.”
I almost give myself away and cry out in relief as he lowers his gun and kneels before me. “You have me.”
“I know that now. Please. Untie me. Let’s get out of here before someone finds us. We need to be on the move. We don’t have much time.” My lips curl into a shallow smile. I fight the churning sourness in my stomach when he raises his hand to caress my cheek, threatening to fall apart when he leans in and presses his dry lips to mine.
“We’re going to be great together.”
My demeanor cracks, and a small sob escapes my lips.
“What’s wrong? Are you—?”
“I’m just happy. I never thought—”
“Shhh…” He places his finger over my lips. “We have the rest of our lives to show each other just how much we’re meant to be.”
I nod too vigorously, fearing I give myself away. He’s taking too long thinking. “Untie me. We have to go.” His brows crease, and he pulls slightly away.
“And how do I know you’re not just pulling one over on me? You deceived me back at the—”
“I’m not. I swear.”
“Prove it.”
“What? What do you mean—”
“Prove it.”
My barely hanging on composure slips. “H—How do I do that?” My question comes out too shaky.
“You want me so bad, prove it. You prove it, and I’ll believe you.”
“Fine, whatever—”
“Cat—”
“I’ll do whatever!” I shout as Mr. Gibson directs the gun at Hunter. “I’ll prove it to you. Just tell me what you want.”
I make the mistake of looking at Hunter, fire blazing behind his eyes as he tugs at his ties. If this is what I have to do to keep us both alive, I’ll do it. It’s the only way. “Tell me what you want.”
Satisfaction gleams in Mr. Gibson’s gaze. He climbs up from his knees and grabs at his covered cock. “I want you to suck me off in front of your stepbrother. Show me how he means nothing to you. And how much I do.”
Hunter’s fury spikes and he yanks at his ties, jerking the desk forward. “You piece of shit! Cat, you don’t have to do this.”
Guilt courses through my veins. I turn to Hunter, his face contorted with rage. My words are sour off my tongue as I speak. “Stay out of this, Hunter. You don’t know what I want. I’m finally getting my happy ending.” The bitter taste of my reply sends a shudder through me, leaving a layer of cold sweat in its wake. My bravery is spiraling into panic. I blink away the anxiety creeping over me at what I’m about to do. This is the only way.
I bring my focus to Mr. Gibson. “I’ll do it.”
There’s still apprehension in his gaze, but a triumphant smile appears. “That’s my girl.”
“Cat, no!”
I block out Hunter’s voice. The room becomes silent as he unzips his pants. Bile threatens to come out, but I hold it down enough to whisper, “If you want this to be good, you need to untie me. I can do wonders with my hands.” My chest burns. How will I get through this? How can I do such a vile thing? Will he believe me? Will I even be able to go through with it? Will he truly let Hunter go?
“Oh, I have no doubt you’ll make me a happy man.”
“So, we have a deal? I prove my loyalty to you, and you let him live?”
He disregards my question as he takes a pocketknife from the desk drawer and bends down to slice away at my bindings. Relief floods through me, and I pull my arms forward, wincing at the pain.
“Now, show me just how much you want me.”
It’s impossible to hide the shakiness of my hands as I raise them to his pants. Shame eats away at me as my fingers begin to unzip him. The pounding of my heart reverberates against my chest. My mouth is dryer than a sandbox.
I don’t think I can do this.
I’m going to be sick.
The ticking of the clock pounds violently with each second that passes. I know I’m taking too long. He’s going to figure out why I’m stalling, and it’s going to cost us both our lives.
The air is so thick around me, I’m about to choke on each strangled breath I take.
“That’s it, love. Show your stepbrother just how much you want my cock.” I close my eyes and reach for his cock. Disgust, humiliation, guilt—they all weigh heavy on my conscious as I lean forward—
An animalistic roar slices through the air and in a blink, Mr. Gibson is no longer in front of me. I scream as Hunter barrels into him, taking them both to the ground. He gets a good hold on Mr. Gibson and rolls on top of him, taking his fist to his chin. “Fucker!” He takes another swing. “Get outta here, Cat,” he hisses. Another swing. And another. And another.
“I can’t leave you!”
“Fucking go! I’m right behind—”
Hunter takes his attention away for barely a second, allowing Mr. Gibson to lift his gun. The shrill sound of my scream fills the room as the weapon goes off, echoing through the room. A harsh grunt comes from Hunter as he slumps to the side. “Hunter!” I wail and dive for him.
“Ru—Run, Cat,” he chokes out, tackling Mr. Gibson again. I run toward him, but he yells, halting me. “Go!” Our eyes collide, and too many silent words pass between us. Run. Save yourself. You deserve to live.
“Run, Cat,” he groans, holding his arm.
I falter in my step, unsure. He needs me. I can’t leave him. But his eyes. They’re pleading. Demanding. My fists clench by my sides as I ache to go to him. Save him. But there’s that smal
l part inside telling me this is him saving me. Mr. Gibson smashes his fist into Hunter’s gut, and it snaps me out of my haze.
My body moves on pure adrenaline as I bolt through the office doors. I fight not to look behind me and almost slip as I race through the set of doors that open up to the pool.
“Fuck,” I curse, my mind a spinning wheel of conflict. Do I go back? Find a way out of here? Run, Cat. Run. I look back to where I left Hunter, guilt burning inside me. Heavy footsteps echo from where I just escaped, snapping me out of my frenzy. Someone’s coming. He’s coming. I panic, my brain unable to register an exit. Boys’ locker room. I take off in a sprint, every step causing jolts of pain to radiate from my shoulder. I slip through the door and race past the lockers. When I get to the exit, it’s locked. No, no, no. I tug at it, constantly looking behind me.
“Come on.” It doesn’t budge, and my panic hits a new level. I scream inside my head, fighting the door to no avail. I frantically look around for a new exit, but I don’t have time. I hear the locker room doors open. My stomach bottoms out, and I release the door handle. Ducking, I slide into the corner of the boys’ shower, hoping the darkness of the space will conceal my location.
“Ca-a-at. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Chills erupt over my skin. I grip my arms closer, wincing at my shoulder.
“It’s over, Cat. You can come out, or I can come find you. Then again, we both know how you like to play hard to get, little tease.” Something bangs against a locker. A pained whimper escapes my lips, giving me away. “Ahhh, there she is,” he sings, his voice growing closer and closer. My heart pounds against my ribcage. Even in the darkness, I sense him. A monster in the night. His shadow grows larger until he’s just mere feet away. He’s going to find me. He’s going to kill—
Commotion stirs from behind him, and he stalls. Holding my breath, I lean forward and watch as something catches his attention. He stares back at the door leading toward the pool. Seconds tick by, feeling like a lifetime. Finally, he gives in to the distraction and turns around, starting back the way he came.
A relieved sob escapes at his retreat. I grab at my chest, holding myself together as his footsteps fade. I get ready to run but stop myself. I need to think straight. This may be a trap. He could be waiting out there for me. Another wave of terror wrecks me, and I huddle into myself, wishing for this nightmare to be over.
A roar explodes from outside the locker room, and my body tenses. Hunter. I don’t think. I just react. Pushing up from the shower floor, I take off toward the pool. My feet slam against the concrete, fighting to get to him. I should have never left him. My mind runs wild with guilt. Regret. I plow through the locker room doors, my head jerking to the left and right in search of him.
Until I find them.
“No!” A scream tears up my throat at the scene at the edge of the pool. Mr. Gibson has Hunter’s head under the water, trying to drown him.
Terror consumes me as I take off toward them. My legs won’t move fast enough. Oh god, how long has he been under? “Leave him alone!” I shout, throwing myself into him. My body collides with his, and he releases Hunter to steady himself. I stumble forward and catch myself, preparing for another attack.
“You little fucking bitch. I should have killed you at your house.” His fist jerks back and slams into my mouth. The world around me fades to black, and I grab at his shirt to hold on. “I’ll deal with you in a second.” He rips himself from my grip and tosses me backward. I trip and fall, slamming into the concrete.
I try to get up, but a wave of dizziness prevents it. Get up, Cat. Fight. The taste of copper fills my mouth. Turning to my side, I spit out a mouthful of blood. When my eyes refocus on Hunter, his head is submerged again.
“No,” a faint plea falls from my lips as I fight through the daze. I push off the ground, but everything sways. I need to fight. I need to get to him. I rush to the wall and rip off the fire extinguisher. Almost slipping on the wet floor and my own puddle of blood, I rush toward them and raise my arms, crying at the pain in my shoulder. With everything I have left in me, I slam the hard metal against Mr. Gibson’s skull.
Mr. Gibson releases Hunter. His hand faintly reaches up to his head, feeling his wound. When he pulls away, blood coats his fingers. His evil eyes latch onto mine. “You’re going to pay for that—”
His arm shoots out and grabs my shirt, thrusting me forward. In my weak state, I lose my balance, allowing him to throw me into the pool. The rush of water surrounds me, and I don’t have enough time to take in air. I choke on a gulp of water, battling to break free, my legs kicking, but Mr. Gibson has hold of my body. I make the mistake of trying to scream, only to let more water in. His fingers wrap around my neck, and I cover them with my own, trying to unlock his grip, but it’s no use. He’s stronger, and I’ve swallowed too much water. My lungs struggle for air, and I begin to convulse. The last thing I focus on is the sick smile on his face. He’s taking my life. He’s won.
Suddenly, his hands are free from around my neck. I kick my legs and fight my way to the surface, breaking from the water and gasping for air. Shock, then confusion spread across his face.
“Cat,” I hear Hunter’s voice through all the chaos, and I whip around to him swimming up to me. “You okay?”
“Oh my God, Hunter,” I cry. My relief is short-lived as I frantically scan the water. “Where is he? Hurry, we have to go. We have to get out and run.”
Hunter doesn’t argue, and we swim to the edge. I start to raise myself out of the pool and turn to Hunter, ready to tell him we need to go back through the girls’ locker room. But he’s still in the water. He’s slowed. “Hunter? What’s wrong? We gotta go—Hunter!”
I dive back in and grab him. “Hunter! Wake up!” I didn’t notice before, but now I see it: blood. A puddle surrounding him. He’s bleeding badly. “Oh God, Hunter, no. Don’t you die on me!” I grab at him, the searing pain from my shoulder causing my eyes to burn. Pushing past it, I drag him to the shallow end. I fight with everything I have to pull him up the set of stairs when someone grabs at my shoulder.
A screeching wail explodes from my lips, and I try to claw at Mr. Gibson.
“Miss, it’s okay. I’m here to help you.”
“Don’t touch me!” I scream, gripping an unconscious Hunter and clutching him tighter to me. I have to protect him.
“I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe. My name is Officer Hallstead. You’re safe now. Help is here.” He’s going to hurt us. He’s going to kill us. “Miss, the paramedic needs to take him. He needs medical attention. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“No! You’re not going to hurt him!” I yell out in despair. But he’s already hurt. Mr. Gibson— “He’s—He’s out there! In the pool! He’s trying to kill us!” I scream out hysterically. I try to pull Hunter closer. I need to get him to safety. Frantic tears pour in waves down my face. Two hands dig under my arms and clutch around me. I fight him off, but he doesn’t allow it, forcing me to let Hunter go.
“Shhh, you’re safe. You both are. Let us take care of you. No one is going to hurt you anymore.” His words slowly register, and I blink away the tears. I stare up at a man in uniform. It’s then I realize the pool is filled with police and paramedics.
“You…you’re here. He’s…”
“You’re safe.”
A woman kneels, speaking softly to the man. “Sir, she’s bleeding pretty good on her head. We should probably get her mouth and nose checked out as well, and her shoulder looks dislocated. She needs—”
“No, he needs help more. Help him. Please. He can’t die.”
Hunter can’t die.
Chapter 18
Catalina
Forty-eight hours later. . .
Everything hurts. But the doctor said that’s to be expected when someone goes through what I have. My shoulder was the worst. Due to all the excessive movement of my shoulder while it was dislocated, I’ll need surgery to repair the torn muscle tissue
. I also have two cracked ribs and some torn muscle from when he tackled me to the ground, which was close to a lung. A concussion from when he knocked me over the head in the garage, and let’s not forget my broken nose or when he punched me in the mouth, which caused my teeth to cut into my lip. Real beauty queen right now.
The doctor said I’m lucky to be alive.
I’m not so sure I feel lucky.
I attempt to sit up because my throat is dry and sore and wince at the discomfort in my neck. Even underwater, Mr. Gibson had a good enough grip on me to injure my windpipe and leave a nasty bruise.
“Hey, don’t move. I got it.” Hunter, who is in no better shape than I am, reaches over for the pitcher of water and pours me a glass. “Here,” he says, trying to hold the straw but struggling because he only has one working arm.
“You need to go back to your own bed.”
“Not a chance. You saved my life. In more ways than one. I’m sticking this out.”
I stare at him as if I’m annoyed, but truthfully, it’s only to hide my guilt. He thinks I saved him by coming back for him. In reality, I ran and left him to die. “I’m not your hero, Hunter.”
“Definitely not a hero, Stray.” I attempt to swat at him but groan at the sudden movement of my shoulder. “Shit, you okay? I didn’t mean it.”
“I know you didn’t. It’s just…I’m the one who caused all this. I don’t deserve nice words or kindness. I deserve for you to hate me. Look at me with disgust—”
“Cat, stop.” He grabs my hand with his good one, the other in a cast because he took a bullet to his arm. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for our teacher to go psycho on you. That’s on him.”
But it is on me, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel different. I attract trouble. If I just told someone at the first signs of trouble, none of this would have—
“You’re in your fucking head. I can see it. I can tell when my stubborn stepsister is down on herself.”
“Would you knock it off? That doesn’t make me feel any better. Not only do I attract psychos but step siblings. A real winner I am.”