Target This

by Lily White

  It wasn’t the proof I was after, but like a light that finally turned on inside me, I realized it would be enough. If I couldn’t prove my own innocence, I could at least take Lucas down with me. It wouldn’t save me, but it would be enough to end the man that had set out to end me.

  Searching the equipment, I looked for a phone or anything I could use to send out a message to the police. Finding nothing, I slammed my hands against the walls furious and wondering how I could escape this place without them knowing what I had seen. I couldn’t give him time to destroy it, couldn’t give him warning that I’d found a way to finally bring him down.

  Turning back around, a flash of silver caught my eye and I looked over to remember Lucas’ laptop. Rushing over, I actually cried when I saw that there was an internet connection. It was my only way to contact the outside world, so I sat down, opening Lucas’ email and sending out a message that would bring the police directly to his front door.

  …

  It took a few hours, but finally, in the dead of night, and after I’d crawled out of the basement to move into the foyer, I saw the blue lights flash across the shadowed yard. Sitting in the center of the foyer, I was still covered in mud, still bleeding from the wounds that I’d received from the rocks that had been slammed against my body.

  An idiotic smile spread over my face and I was so exhausted, so fucking beat down, that I remained silent in that position, watching time move in slow motion, the men approaching the doors, Lucas running past me, Detective Marx finally entering to look at me with Lucas at his side. Expressions of shock spread across their handsome faces.

  When Lucas eyes had taken in the damage to my body, they flicked down and widened to see his laptop in my hands. Police rushed past me, the heavy fall of their boots shaking the floor beneath me. However, despite their activity, despite the noise and the shouting, and the smile that spread across Sarah’s face when she finally returned, it was Lucas’ expression that kept my attention. He knew what I was going to do. He knew that all of his work would soon be destroyed.

  I started chuckling as I stood up. Softly at first, but that turned to a maniacal laugh when I looked at Lucas, when I lifted my free hand to give him the middle finger and when I opened my broken and busted lips to say, “I have to commend you on a brilliant novel, Lucas. I was nothing more than a target? Nothing more than a pawn in your fucked up game.” Another laugh escaped me before I raised the laptop over my head and screamed, “Target this!”

  My own strength surprised me, because when that laptop slammed against the ground, and when my bare feet came down on it to crush it beneath my weight, it sparked brightly lit bits of electric white as it broke apart. The skin of my feet were cut by the plastic and metal shards, but I didn’t care. I continued stomping on the book that Lucas had tortured me in order to create.

  Looking up at him again, I smiled. He didn’t move, his eyes wide open to see what I’d done. When they finally met mine, I laughed and, spoken on emotionless and cold words, I mimicked him. “How does it feel to know that you’ve lost?”

  He dropped to his knees and I looked to see how Sarah’s jaw had dropped open. I’d destroyed his work – the only thing they cared about – as selfishly and thoroughly as they’d destroyed my life.

  We were all going to hell together, but that fact comforted me and I still had a triumphant smile on my face despite being shoved in the back of Detective Marx’ car.

  Lucas

  “Can they hear us in here?” Leaning back in the wooden conference room chair, I attempted to make myself comfortable while my attorney stared at me from the other side of the table. I hadn’t slept in two days and my body itched in the orange jumpsuit they forced me to wear in this hovel they called a jail.

  “Not unless the rule of confidentiality between an attorney and his client has been disposed of without anybody in the legal community knowing about it.” His fat face and neck barely fit above the collar of his buttoned up white shirt. His gray, pin-stripe suit was wrinkled but still looked to be expensive and I noticed the large gold watch he wore on his wrist. The man could learn a thing or two about modern fashion, but I decided to overlook his appearance when I remembered that he was a crooked bastard with a brilliant mind. He was exactly what I needed to get me out of the ridiculous charges that had been filed against me.

  “Do you want to give me the details, Lucas?”

  “It’s all on the tapes, Carl. I know the police have them in their possession, but I have an off-sight backup that you should be able to retrieve and view.”

  “They’ve charged you with rape, kidnapping, harboring a fugitive. I mean, the list goes on and on. How the fuck are tapes going to get you out of any of this?”

  “Because she never said ‘no.’” His eyes widened at my response and he circled his finger in the air to indicate for me to continue. His chubby hand pulled a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket and he placed it atop a yellow legal pad, ready to take notes of the story I was about to tell.

  “Autumn Cleary was never kidnapped. She agreed to come to my house in order to run from some horrible trauma she’d suffered. She didn’t tell me what her problem was, and, being the kind gentleman that I am, I offered to let her stay in my home. We entered into a consensual, sexual relationship that I believe would be considered unusual, but not illegal. Ms. Cleary was a willing participant in every sexual act and in every event that led to that sexual act.”

  Looking up from his notebook, the bushy eyebrow above his right eye arched in concern. “And what kind of events are those, Lucas?”

  “Bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism – call it whatever you like, but it will appear to the vanilla observer to be abuse. You’ll need to rectify that, I’m sure, but it’s nothing that’s considered illegal. There are many people who live the lifestyle and it can’t be held against me just because she claims it was done without her permission.”

  I was lying through my fucking teeth and the bastard knew it. However, I didn’t care. If the tapes were viewed, my explanation would be considered reasonable. I always asked and she always said ‘yes.’ It was that simple.

  But was it simple BDSM? No. It was abuse through coercion. It was a woman held captive by her own fear.

  His eyes blinked closed when he returned them to the notepad upon which he furiously scribbled notes. Clearing his throat, he asked, “And you’re sure the tapes will show that she agreed to your … activities?”

  I smiled quickly before responding, “Yes. I made sure to ask her before every act whether she wanted to leave or participate. She chose to participate each and every time. In fact, there will be a full week without those activities, one in which she was enamored with me and enamored with the lifestyle I could provide her.”

  More lies. She wasn’t enamored. She was completely broken down.

  “So, why would she now claim that you’ve essentially held her captive, beating her and raping her?”

  A chuckle escaped my lips and I gave him an expression that conveyed some unspoken truth between men. “Because women are crazy. Greater men than me have been trying to figure them out since the beginning of time without any results. Why would I now waste my time trying to figure out why she’s done anything? In all likelihood, she was jealous of my assistant. Possibly, she thought we had an intimate relationship as well. She could have freaked as a result, thinking I was leaving her and she acted in a desperate manner to ‘get even’. I’m not sure, but I don’t think any of that really matters.”

  He looked at me for a few seconds and I could imagine the gears grinding in his head. He was a master of argument, a genius when it came to taking words and facts and bending them to convey what story he wanted people to believe. After he considered what I told him, he asked, “And what about her other accusations? She claims that you are the person who set fire to her house, that Sarah has physically attacked her and threatened her life. She also believes you are also the person who is re
sponsible for the disappearance of a …” Flipping up a sheet of paper, his eyes scanned the typed words before he added, “Mary Beth Carson.”

  I laughed again. “I had nothing to do with that. Again, the surveillance tapes will help clear up any confusion. On the night Mary Beth disappeared, I’m able to prove my whereabouts at every point in that evening, including when I returned home to my empty house.”

  “Ms. Clearly claims she heard Mary Beth in your house; that you had her held on the third floor.”

  “I’m sure she would considering I’m the one who wanted her to think that. She agreed to my game, Carl. I was merely playing it out.”

  A smirk touched the corner of his lips and he eyeballed me, obviously waiting for an explanation of how I’d pulled it off. When he said nothing, I explained.

  “On the night that Mary Beth disappeared, I’d been out with Autumn. She sent me several text messages, which suggested lewd activities she wished to commit with me. Basically, she was begging for sex. She was sending photographs of her breasts, her ass, her cunt. Hell – I believe there was even one where she’d inserted a bottle inside herself. It was rather disgusting behavior so I wasn’t interested in having any type of relationship with her. However, she was Autumn’s best friend, and rather than embarrassing Ms. Carson by showing Autumn the texts, I decided to go to her house that evening to explain that I wanted nothing to do with her. We argued and she screamed at me, telling me I’d hurt her and begging me not to refuse her solicitations. I have the entire conversation recorded on my phone, including a time stamp that will show the police what time the conversation started and what time it ended. At that point, if you look at the time stamp on the security films at my house, you’ll see that there were only 10 minutes between when I ended the conversation with her and arrived at my house. Any logical person will conclude that was not enough time for me to murder her and hide the body.”

  When he sat back against the chair, it groaned as it strained to hold his weight. “That still doesn’t explain why Autumn heard Mary Beth in your house, as I’m sure those security tapes will show.”

  Another quick grin across my lips and I answered, “I was playing parts of the recordings, Carl. If compared, what is heard on the security tapes will coincide exactly with the recording on my phone. I don’t care how scrupulous a criminal is, they would never be able to get a victim to voice the exact same words at the exact same pitch, speed and volume. Again, it will be the logical conclusion that I was only playing the recording and not beating Ms. Carson in Autumn’s presence.”

  Nodding, he noted a few more things before looking up to ask, “Did these people know they were being recorded? It’s illegal to record someone’s voice without their consent. The images will be perfectly fine, but the sound associated with them could be another charge they’ll throw at you.”

  “I advised Ms. Carson she was being recorded clearly on the tape. She was in such an emotional fit that she didn’t appear to care. In addition to that, there are signs outside the front entry of my home that inform that the premises are recorded both visually and by sound. I’ve complied with any legal requirements. If they didn’t pay attention, that’s their own mistake.”

  He laughed, a deep belly chortle that resonated throughout the room. “You seem to have an answer for everything, Lucas. I can only wish that my other clients were as thorough as you.”

  Something struck me while I listened to him compliment my attention to detail and I couldn’t help but inquire further. “You mentioned the house fire and Mary Beth. Have they dropped the charges against Ms. Cleary in order to file them against me?”

  He shook his fat head, crossing a leg over the other when he responded, “No. Those charges are still directed towards your girlfriend. Ex –girlfriend, I mean.”

  “She was never my girlfriend.” The words left my mouth when I considered that Autumn was still tucked away in some cell, her worst fear finally realized despite everything she’d done to avoid it.

  “I want the charges dropped against her as well. I’ll pay you to represent her, if need be; however, I believe I have some information that could make all of these charges disappear.” Smiling at him from across the table, I added, “Your fees will still be paid, of course, regardless of whether there’s a long drawn out court proceeding or not.”

  His greed flashed behind his eyes as he leaned forward to place the notebook on the table and fold his hands, one over the other, in front of him. Leaning against the polished wood, his reflection gazed back up at him when he asked, “And what information is that? I can’t think of a single thing that could make this entire situation disappear so easily.”

  Sitting up to match his posture, I looked him dead in the eye and allowed my expression to go blank. “There will be one tape from several days ago that might be of use to you, Carl. There was an unfortunate relationship that occurred between my assistant and Detective Marx. Apparently, he seduced her despite the ongoing investigation. He was brought into my home, taken to the third floor and during their ‘play’, he had sex with Ms. Cleary. I believe confronting him with that information might change his mind as to whether he wants to hand this matter over to the courts. He is the sole investigator in this town and it’s a cushy position I’m sure he’d hate to give up. He might agree that it’s possible he made a ‘mistake’.”

  A burst of laughter erupted from his mouth and spittle shot out from his lips to land on the surface of the table. I sat back, disgusted by the sight, but pleased that he understood exactly what I was implying without the exhaustive details having to be voiced.

  Staring at me for another minute, he shook his head, bringing the pen back to paper. “Why would you want to help her? From what I read in the police reports, she put on quite a show destroying your most recent work in progress. Why not just free yourself and allow her to rot in a jail for the rest of her life? It would make things far less complicated for us both.”

  “Because she freed herself, Carl. She finally took the keys and, with a dramatic display, she broke the shackles that bound her. I can respect that about her, and I refuse to allow her to be thrown away as a result.” Light laughter bubbled up from my chest. “Hell, that scene wouldn’t have been better if I’d written it myself.”

  Confusion filled his eyes. “Freed herself from what, exactly?

  My chains rattled as I sat in my chair and I looked up at him without the tiniest hint of thought or emotion carried in my expression. Sighing heavily, I answered, “It doesn’t matter. Just make sure that Ms. Cleary is cleared of all charges and I also want you to make damn sure that her name isn’t smeared in public and that those tapes never see the light of day. Do you understand?”

  “I do.” After glancing at his watch, he checked his calendar and said, “Listen, I’ve got another appointment, so I have to leave. However, just answer me this before I go. Am I going to find anything incriminating against you with those tapes? If we try what you’re suggesting we try, he’s going to scour those videos looking for anything he can use to retaliate.”

  A wicked grin stretched across my lips and I shook my head ‘no’. “I have a very good assistant, Carl. She’s very handy with recording equipment. I can promise you that you have nothing to worry about.”

  Nodding, he breathed out a heavy sigh and gathered the materials he had strewn across the table. Once he’d forced himself into a standing position, he bent down to retrieve his briefcase before finally saying, “As usual, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Lucas. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Autumn

  A full week had passed since Lucas and Sarah left town, leaving behind the house that he had immaculately restored and the memories that existed inside it.

  I can’t say that within that time, my life had returned to normal, but it was at least manageable for reasons I’m sure I’ll never know. After two days of being holed up in the cold jail cell, a guard had come to tell me that I was being freed. I was shocked, of course, bu
t elated. I’d thought that the charges had been dropped against me because the police had discovered information pointing to Lucas and Sarah for the crimes.

  However, when I left the jail and when I returned with Sue to her home after she kindly picked me up from the station, I was informed that charges were not being brought against anybody at all. My life – my situation – was all over the news and I watched with wide eyes as the reporter conveyed that the fire had been deemed accidental and that Lucas Bates and I had been released from jail. It wasn’t long before the media was at Lucas’ door. On the next morning’s news, images were displayed of moving vans outside his house, the contents of his home being pulled from the front entry to be placed inside the trucks.

  The cameras followed him until all there was to see were the red brake lights of his car, disappearing down the rain-shadowed road, until they were gone completely. I don’t know why my heart broke to see those lights fade, even despite the fear that they created within me. They were like two red eyes mocking me as Lucas Bates finally retreated from my life.

  After my release, I also discovered that Mary Beth had not been found. The only evidence that showed in her disappearance was the blood stained phone. However, nothing else could be obtained and the case surrounding her was set aside until something new came up. I was heartbroken to think that my best friend had been killed all because of a game Lucas wished to play against me.

  Within the week, the insurance money on my home arrived and I was grateful to have enough to not only rebuild what I’d lost, but to rent an apartment in the middle of town where I could live while the house was being constructed. I had to replace almost everything I owned and I spent my days shopping for clothes, housewares furniture and everything else I could think of that was needed in life. The pictures of my family, the mementos of my youth, my books with their broken spines and tattered pages, were all lost to the fire. It was the final insult, I guess; my life before him stripped away so that I was left to live with the only the memory of what life was like since he’d been in it.