Stunned into silence, I lie there listening to his story, my heart beating faster and faster with each sentence. The only movement in the room is my chest rising up and down. I have been racking my brain to think of some way out of here, but I can’t. My only hope is to get them mad enough to untie me, or do what they will with me while Logan has a chance to escape. The silence is broken with a moan. Tyler and Alex turn in unison, it would seem creepy, but given everything else that has happened tonight, it’s simply par for the course. I see Logan lift his head and take in his surroundings. He’s disoriented, confused, and I don’t blame him one bit. He finally sees us and then all hell breaks loose.
“You!” screams Logan, looking directly at Alex. “How are you alive?” he asks as he gets up and begins to yank at his bindings with vicious intensity. I forgot how strong Logan is. “And Tyler,” he continues clearly confused. “What the hell are you doing here? Why is Aimee shackled to a bed? For that matter, why am I tied to this damn wall? Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” he finishes, out of breath.
“Logan,” I begin, intending to tell him exactly who Tyler is, but I’m stopped abruptly when Tyler jumps on top of me, covers my mouth, and sticks the knife to my neck. My body goes rigid. I make no move to taunt Tyler. I know that anything more than complete submission and he will kill me on the spot; enjoy the feel of my blood gushing out onto his hands.
“Hush, girl or I will slash your throat open and make you be quiet,” Tyler admonishes. “The honor of telling goes to Alex, not you.”
From the corner of the room, I hear Logan rustle around, an attempt to fight his bindings. I can see that he’s confused and how much he can’t take his eyes off Alex.
“I thought you were dead. Our parents told me you were dead. I never felt you were, but I trusted them. I never really forgave them for putting you away. I tried to fight them, I really did, but they sent me to some hypnotist. The more I asked about you, the more hypnotherapy I got. I finally had to admit that I never had a brother and convince them I was sane before the treatments would stop. I tried to see you once at the asylum, but they caught me and sent me home. We moved here shortly after that. What happened to you? Why are you here and why did you tie me up?” Logan asks, guilty and confused.
Alex looks at his brother thoughtfully. “Are you really as innocent as you seem, brother, or is this all an act? Do you really expect me to believe that you care about me? All those years you could have helped me, taken my side against our parents, but you went along with their plan. We were brothers, Logan!” spits Alex, the hurt written all over his face.
“I swear, Alex, I tried—”
“Save it. I haven’t cared what you thought for some time now,” states Alex calmer now. “You’ve had your chance at a life, Logan, now it’s my turn.”
“What do you mean?” asks Logan, perplexed enough to stop yanking his bound hands from the loop nailed to the wall. Even from across the room I can see that his hands are raw and bleeding at the edges.
“What I mean, dear brother, is that the time has come for your life to end and mine to begin. Tyler became your best friend for a reason, Logan. For two years now, he has watched and recorded your every move. He did this for me so that when I’m ready, no one will be the wiser. You see, dear brother, my life was stolen from me. And now it’s time for me to steal it back.”
“What exactly do you mean by ‘steal it back?’ What did you do?” Logan asks, his voice hitching at the end.
Alex laughs; a bitter sound that resonates off the moldy, old walls of the torture room. “When I leave here tonight, Alex will be no more. I will emerge as a new person with a new beginning, a new life. The world will now know me as Logan. And no one will ever realize that I’m not you.”
“You can’t be serious,” states Logan emphatically. “No one will believe you. My friends know me, Alex. They will never accept you as me.”
“We’ll see, dear brother, we’ll see. Regardless, you won’t make it out of here alive. Soon, I will graduate and go wherever I want, start fresh with new friends and new beginnings. And best yet, new adventures to be had with my best friend, Tyler,” says Alex turning to wink at his partner in crime.
Disgusted, I turn my head, unable to tolerate the look of unadulterated fear on Logan’s face. He knows he’s in a precarious position and he’s smart enough to know when he’s beat. He turns his head left and right, desperate to find a way out, but there’s none. I see a range of emotions cross his face and I share them. What kind of sick person kills their brother just to take over his life? A psycho one does, that’s who. I’m at a loss for words, still afraid to move with Tyler’s knife at my throat.
Logan, finally realizing there’s no way out unless he can manage to get untied, pleads with Alex. “Please, Alex, we can work this out. We can find a way where both of us get to live our lives. We can both still have the kind of life we want. There’s no reason to steal mine. I can get you money, and you can start over wherever you want. Just please, let us go,” he begs.
“Don’t you see, Logan? There’s no life for me unless I take yours. Our parents will never let me have one. They will never stop hunting me; never leave me alone to live the kind of life I want, because I’m a threat to the stardom they created for you. The only way this can happen is if you’re out of the picture. There is no other way, believe me. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, rotting in that hellhole they call a psychiatric ward. I’m not the one that’s sick; you are. I live as I see fit, I don’t go around like a robot, trying to fit into some role that society dictates is acceptable. Screw that. I will steal your ‘acceptable’ life and live the way I want to down here in the dark.”
“But that isn’t a life, Alex; that’s a lie. Can’t you see that? No one will truly accept you for who you are if you pretend to be someone else. Please, let’s talk about this. It doesn’t have to end this way,” says Logan, doing his best to appeal to his brother. I can see from Alex’s rigid stance that he isn’t considering his brother’s words. They’re only serving to make him angrier.
“Enough games, Logan, I’m done with you. I hope you enjoyed the last sixteen years, because there’s no ninth inning. Your game is over,” states Alex before turning to give his full attention to Tyler. “Do what you want with Aimee and make Logan watch. When you’re done, take care of Logan for me. I’m going to dinner and then to the game as we discussed. We have prepared enough, Tyler. It’s time to begin my new life.”
“Your wish is my command, Alex...I mean Logan,” Tyler says with a sly smile. “Consider it done. Give my best to our teammates. I’ll be there in a bit.”
With one last look at Logan, Alex walks towards the staircase and takes them two at a time all the way to the top, excitement evident in his every move. Within seconds, he’s out the door and I’m left alone with Tyler, his knife still at my throat.
To my chagrin, Tyler once again gives me his full attention. “Alone at last,” he coons. “What am I to do with you now? You know all of my tricks. You’ve seen me at my worst. So what I do with you now must be something special, something I’ve never done before,” he states, taking time to think. The seconds tick by like hours as Tyler stares at me, an evil hunger evident in his sparkling green eyes. Having arrived at some conclusion, he moves closer to me, kisses my neck. I turn my head, trying my best not to throw up or give any indication that his very touch both terrifies and disgusts me. I can feel him on top of me, his weight binding me to the bed.
He places light kisses up my neck until he reaches my mouth. I can feel his lips near mine, I am ready to bite him as hard as I can the moment he comes into contact with my lips, but he must know what I plan to do, because he bypasses my lips and moves down the other side of my neck. I scream and kick my knees up as hard as I can hoping to catch him off guard, but it’s no use. I can hear Logan screaming at Tyler from the corner of the room, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I can hear the loop that attaches his bindin
gs to the wall ping as Logan fights to get free, but sadly, there’s nothing he can do to help me. I wait, trying to bide my time until I can really hurt Tyler, but he’s careful. He knows the exact spots and places where I can hurt him with my mouth or legs so every attempt I make to jostle him off me fails monumentally.
Tyler stops kissing me and moves lower, trailing his knife behind him lightly over my skin. I can feel it scrape my chest as it follows a path to my abdomen. His knife pricks me and I scream. From the corner, I hear Logan hurl some serious cuss words at Tyler. Finally, I get a break. Tyler is crouched just far enough down on top me that he can’t block my leg. I lift my leg up slowly, carefully so that he doesn’t notice the movement. I prepare to ram it up between his legs, but his next words stop me cold.
“I’m going to keep stabbing you in non-lethal places until you beg me to kill you, Aimee. Something I’ve always wanted to do, but for some reason never found the right girl. You, my dear, are the one I’ve been waiting for. Since you know my secrets, you must also realize that you are never going to leave this place alive. But to be fair, I’ll give you a choice. Where would you like to be stabbed first?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Screw you, Tyler,” I say venomously spitting in his face.
He rears back, furious; my obvious disdain snapping what little restraint he’s shown up until now.
He calls me “bitch” seconds before I feel the knife plunge through my skin just below my ribcage. Pain like I’ve never felt before, explodes within me. I scream out in surprise and agony as my fear grows, bellowing the obvious truth: no one can save me now. Blood spills forth from the wound staining both Tyler’s hands and the clean white sheets. I struggle against the shackles that bind my hands, but it’s no use, I can’t move. In the distance, I hear Logan screeching, hear the clanging of metal against brick, but it doesn’t register. All I can feel is pain. It’s like Tyler stuck me with a white-hot branding iron. I hear someone wailing, register that it’s me, but it’s like I’m hearing it from far off. It’s an echo of another time, another girl that experienced this same exact thing. From the corner, I hear a frenzy of sounds, I know Logan is going crazy trying to get to me, but there’s nothing I can do or say to reassure him. I can feel my blood leaving my body, but my bound hands can’t stop it. I start feeling dizzy from blood loss.
Suddenly from far off, I hear a crash. Unable to process anything, I don’t even wonder where it came from. Above me, Tyler turns his head to find out what caused the crash. Seconds later, I see Logan leaping over the bed, crashing into Tyler and pushing him off me and onto the floor. They fall together, a mangled mess of punching arms and flailing legs. I look down and see the knife protruding from my abdomen; Logan’s effort to get Tyler off me caused the knife to go in deeper. I cry out for help, but Logan is fighting for our lives, there’s no one to help me.
I look down at my feet, do my best to use what strength I have left to free at least one of them. Across the room, I see the ring that held Logan’s bindings ripped from the wall. I keep forgetting how strong he is. I hear grunting to my right. I look and see the two boys circling each other, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Tyler is punching hard and Logan is fending off the attacks with the thick rope that still binds his hands. Both boys have bleeding lips, raw knuckles, and Tyler has blood seeping from a wound somewhere on his forehead. Logan is fighting Tyler like his life depends on it, which it does.
Though I long to see who will win the fight, the pain in my side takes all of my attention. I can feel the blood pooling beneath me, but there’s nothing I can do about it. The world is spinning and no matter how hard I try, I can’t focus on the fight happening right in front of me. Logan punches Tyler, Tyler punches Logan, they’re evenly matched. I fear for Logan’s safety, Tyler is relentless and evil, which tends to always have the advantage. I see Logan look at me from time to time trying to gauge how bad my injuries are. I yearn to tell him to pay attention to the fight that I’m fine, but it isn’t true. I’m losing too much blood and I can’t remove the deeply lodged knife from my abdomen. I fear for Logan’s life, which only makes my heart beat faster, causing the blood to leave the slit in my abdomen like a river running downhill.
In front of me, someone goes down to the floor and I pray it isn’t Logan. I’m not even three words into my prayer when I see Tyler’s face above me again. His right eye is dark with bruises, his mouth is cut, and there’s blood running down his face. My heart sinks; Logan lost. I have no choice, but to face that this is the end. An end that I was always destined to confront alone. Tyler smiles sardonically at me. I know what’s coming. I brace myself, but it doesn’t help the blinding white-hot pain that comes when Tyler yanks the knife out of my abdomen. He lifts his bloody right hand complete with knife, high into the air and aims it directly above my heart. I again brace myself, incapable of even thinking what kind of pain will accompany that kind of injury. I just hope that my death will be swift. I follow Tyler’s knife as it arches downward towards my heart, pray that Logan wakes up to save me, but know that it’s no use. I close my eyes, prepare for the inevitable. I pray to a God that I feel has forsaken me, but I pray nonetheless as I wait for the knife to penetrate.
Suddenly, the musty air of the torture room is split open with the roar of a gunshot. I open my eyes and see Tyler go down on top of me, blood bursting forth from a bullet wound to his head—an instant death. I have no idea where it came from, no idea how it could have happened, but I’m grateful for it.
Tyler’s dead weight is crushing me, doubling the pain in my abdomen. I scream out to no one in particular, desperate for air and a way out of this intense pain. I feel Tyler’s body roll off of me, feel the air once again move over my sweaty face. I look up and see the most handsome hazel eyes in existence hovering over me. They are filled with unshed tears. I smile at Logan.
“Hey you,” I say lightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Logan smiles back faintly, but he’s in a daze, his eyes are darting back and forth between my face and my abdomen. Logan moves onto the bed, I can feel his hands roaming my abdomen to determine where the damage is. He finds the slit where Tyler stabbed me, does his best to close the wound with his hands, but my blood flows through his fingers like water. I fight for breath as the world becomes unfocused. I can feel the life leaving me and I know there isn’t much time left.
I hear Logan next to me on the bed whispering, “I don’t know what to do,” as he tries his best to cut off the bleeding with his shirt.
“Please stop, Logan,” I plead. “It’s no use. Tyler knew exactly where to put the knife to cause the most damage. I knew it might come to this. You have to let me go.”
“Don’t ask me to do that, I can’t,” cries Logan, the tears free flowing from his eyes. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Anything, but just sit here and watch you die. Please, don’t ask me to do that.”
Weakness engulfs me and it becomes harder to keep my eyes open. Strangely, the pain in my abdomen starts to ebb until it becomes numb. I know enough about death to know that is not a good sign. Before I die, there’s one last thing I have to do. With what little strength I have left, I turn my head until I’m facing Logan. His left eye is already starting to swell and the cuts on his face have turned an angry red. His wrists are bleeding from where he was tied up, but there’s so much of my blood on his hands now that I can’t see the marks from the rope. His eyes fix on mine, the fear that threatens to overtake me is mirrored in his perfect hazel eyes.
“Do you know that I’ve never been kissed? I’m sixteen years old and I haven’t even so much as held someone’s hand until you. I don’t want to die without knowing what a kiss feels like. Kiss me. Now, before it’s too late.”
Despite the impossible situation, Logan smiles at me. “Only you would think of a kiss at a time like this,” he says as he leans in closer and wastes no time pressing his lips to mine. The moment his skin touches mine, I’m flooded with his memories. I see his deligh
t at walking for the first time from the couch to the table, see his mother smiling at him as she holds him high up in the air and twirls him around. Sweet, wonderful memories flood me and I’m surprised to find out that sharing them with him is not the awful invasion of privacy that I had expected. It’s more intimate than that. It’s as if I alone have access to his innermost thoughts and better yet, I am invited to share in them. I see images of his twin brother, the constant worry Logan felt whenever he was around. I experience the very first time he ever hit a home run and the smile that wouldn’t leave his face as he ran the bases. There’s no killing, no malice, no judgment whatsoever in Logan’s thoughts, only peace. Never in my life have I felt closer to anyone than I do at this moment.
I’m surprised how unaffected Logan is by the intense feelings that accompany my touch. Usually a person is so shocked when I suck their memories from them that they freeze. But, Logan is different. He’s experiencing them as I do; sharing them with me as he never could before. For him, it isn’t as much an invasion as it is a show of love; demonstrating exactly how he feels through his memories. As I reach the memories that include me, Logan deepens the kiss. The moment Logan’s tongue touches mine, a shot of electricity surges throughout my body. With the surge, I feel what Logan feels every time he looked at me; see the beauty I try so diligently to hide because let’s face it, no one wants to touch a ghost.
The first memory he has of me is me hunched over in a desk in some class we had together in the ninth grade. I see everyone else pass me by, a shadow sitting in a desk invisible to everyone else. But Logan stopped, he saw through the darkness I hide behind to shroud the light I never knew shined in me. My head was so filled with the evil thoughts of others that I was never able to see past them; never able to separate who I was from the people who committed those awful acts. Those memories that were never mine came to define who I never wanted to be. And with such a focus on who I didn’t want to be, there simply wasn’t any time left to figure out who I was. It took seeing myself through Logan’s eyes to realize that I have a light of goodness—one that will never let the evil thoughts of others consume it. My curse can be a gift.
The Haunting of Secrets Page 16