Unraveled (Twisted Series)

by Dani Matthews

  I look at him questioningly in the darkness and I know he can see my head tilting curiously.

  “Tate's just now starting to act normal around me again. We wouldn't want him to come across butt prints all over the patio doors or we're back to where we started,” he muses.

  A laugh escapes me as I imagine a naked Noah spraying down the patio door with Windex and cleaning it. Then I can't help but giggle over Tate's would be expression as he realized what the prints were if he had come across them tomorrow.

  ***

  The following morning, I wake up early and watch Noah as he sleeps. Because he'd gone to bed with wet hair, his hair is sticking up in all sorts of places and a smile creeps across my lips. He looks rumpled and adorable this morning. And of course sexy, but that's a given.

  With a soft sigh, I move away from him only to have his brown eyes open while he grabs my arm before I can slip away. I could have sworn he was sleeping and I look at him hesitantly.

  “Stay. I want to talk about what is going on between us,” he says quietly.

  That is the last thing I want to talk about so I crawl up onto his chest and kiss him in hopes of distracting him. His hands wander over my bare back for a moment before his lips pull back from mine and he looks at me expectantly, he clearly wants me to acknowledge his comment.

  With a sigh, I pull back and tug the sheet over my breasts.

  “You can keep yourself closed off as much as you want, but that doesn't stop me from loving you,” he says softly as he watches my expression intently.

  My mouth falls open and I can't help but gape at him. Had he really just said what I thought he had?

  He sits up and moves in to lightly kiss me. I'm still in shock, so the kiss is a bit one sided. Noah pulls back and looks at me searchingly. “If you can't talk about us, then I'll let it go for now. But you need to know how I feel about you. I know the timing is probably bad because there is so much going on, but I can't stand the thought of you thinking that I’ve given up. I told you a while back I'll wait for you and I will.”

  A lump rises in my throat as I think about the fact that I don't have a future. It would be impossible for him to wait for me. I slowly lean forward and kiss his cheek gently, letting him know that his admission meant the world to me. Then I turn and rise from the bed and walk completely naked out of his room without a backward glance.

  Fear

  Terror plays in her thoughts

  Friday night approached faster than I could have ever expected. I'd made peace with what I plan to do and spent my nights in Noah's bedroom the rest of the week. We didn't talk about our feelings for one another, we showed each other instead. He didn't push for me to talk about my obvious issues and he didn't bring up rehab, either.

  Tate of course is still mad at me and we are barely on speaking terms. I desperately want to try to make things right with my brother before my life is over but I can't because there's no point. Tate would be destroyed when he found out the role I had played in Sean's death. It's been a rough week knowing that by the end of it, I'd probably be behind bars.

  That evening I am resolved and ready to do what needs to be done. Since neither Tate nor Noah will let me out of their sight, I've decided to tell my manager that I am sick so I can leave work early. Noah will have no choice to stay until his shift is over and Tate's working, so I'll have up to an hour to get down to the police station and give my statement.

  After my manager agrees I can leave, I sneak out the back way so that Noah doesn't see me. The minutes are ticking down as I climb in my car and drive home, my entire body tense. I figure I have about fifteen minutes to spare at the house to take one last private shower, not to mention I don't want to go to jail smelling like grease and burgers.

  When I enter the house, I've just barely stepped into the living room when my phone chirps from within my purse.

  Noah.

  I pull out the phone and scan the message.

  NOAH: Phil says you went home sick. Everything all right?

  I'm fine. Just a stomach bug. I quickly send off the text and shove the phone back in my purse, my heart aching as I head towards the hallway and go up to my room. I couldn't believe my life has come to this. In less than an hour I would be confessing to a crime. When I'd moved here, I'd been looking forward to a new life. I hadn't known that things would become way more complicated than they'd ever been in Minnesota.

  With a soft sigh, I grab some fresh lingerie from my dresser drawer and head for the shower. The hot water feels good on my skin and I savor the shower for as long as I dared. I knew the longer I put off going to the police station, the harder it would be.

  Finally, I force myself to climb out and quickly dry off. Then I slip on my fresh bra and panties before running the brush through my damp hair. There was no point in doing anything with it. No one at the police department would care what I look like.

  When I walk back to my room, I stop dead in my tracks and stare at Ethan. He's right there, larger than life and sitting on my bed as if he's been waiting for me for a while now.

  But how...

  My eyes scan my room and I see that the window closest to the tree in the backyard happens to be wide open. Cole's idea, no doubt. And I was a total moron for not keeping it locked. I've been so careful this week and yet it's my unlocked window that does me in. Go figure. I turn my attention back to Ethan and take in his black clothing and the black gloves he's wearing.

  Oh…shit.

  He has a black revolver in his hand.

  How could I have been so stupid? I should have known I'd be followed and why hadn't it occurred to me that Cole would involve Ethan? Fear flickers through my veins as I realize my life would either end tonight behind bars or for good. Either way, the outcome wasn't going to be pretty for me.

  Ethan smiles at me and it chills me to the bone as his gaze roams my nearly naked body. “You are one fine piece of ass, aren't you?”

  I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. “Where's Cole? Shouldn't he be here for this?” I ask calmly.

  I need to keep him talking and stall. For what, I have no idea. I just know I don't want to die. The thought of never seeing my brother or Noah again has my insides tightening. At least with prison I knew they were out there and maybe one day I'd see them again if they ever forgave me for my part in the robbery. But if I'm dead...

  Ethan plays with the gun idly in his gloved hands as he watches me with amusement. “Baby brother's out clubbing while I clean up the mess he's made.”

  “So it was you who drugged me up last week?”

  He snickers with disdain. “Nah. That was Cole trying to get rid of you in his own little fucked up way. Once he realized you didn't kill yourself on the way home, he came clean to me about everything. So, here I am. I'm going to clean up the mess he's made and he'll owe me for life. My brother is dumb as shit sometimes, but I can't have him going to prison now, can I?”

  “I gave my word that I wouldn't say anything about the robbery. Just because we broke up doesn't mean I'm going to say anything. If I was, wouldn't I have already?” I challenge as I stare him down, even though it was a load of bull. I wonder if they'd somehow known what my plans were for tonight.

  Ethan's eyes drop to my inner thighs where there's several fresh Band-Aids from earlier this week. “You're fucked up and I'm not letting Cole's future rest in your pretty little hands,” he say simply before he rises to his feet, making my body tense. He waves the gun towards the doorway I am standing in front of. “Back in the bathroom you go.”

  “Why the bathroom?”

  “Because that's where I want you. Move it,” he says firmly as he points the gun at me.

  I stare down the barrel of the gun before licking my dry lips. I am so screwed. Without a word, I reluctantly back up and slowly walk backwards into the bathroom, my hand reaching out as I flip on the light switch.

  “Get your razors or whatever it is you use to cut yourself,” Ethan orders from the doorwa
y while he keeps the gun trained on me.

  “I need to get in the closet,” I say.

  He nods and moves slightly so he can keep an eye on me.

  As I open the closet door and pretend to dig through my things, my mind is racing. The razors are long gone and I look through all my toiletry products while I try to figure out what I can use as a weapon. My eyes land on the can of hairspray. I could try to blind him, but I had a feeling he'd start shooting like crazy and I'd be dead anyway. There was nowhere to run in this bathroom. For the first time I wish the bathroom had a window. I'd rather risk jumping out the window than facing Ethan's gun.

  “I think my baby bro liked that you took a knife to your skin. Got him all excited, I bet. I, on the other hand find it a bit revolting, no matter how fine you are. Anyone that mutilates themselves is a complete head case and I don't do crazy. I bet you've got quite the past, don't you, sweetheart?” Ethan drawls from behind me.

  “Want to hear it? I'd love to share if you've got the time,” I say dryly as I keep digging through the stuff on the shelf.

  “Quit stalling.”

  “I can't find them.”

  “I said, quit stalling,” Ethan says, his tone turning dark.

  I turn and look at him. “Everything is gone, okay? My brother and his roommate found out what I do. They want me to stop.”

  This earns me a glare. “Fine. Get in the tub and pull the shower curtain all the way back.”

  Again, my mind races but I can't come up with a way to save myself. I can't outrun a bullet. With great reluctance, I walk to the shower and step in the still wet tub as I pull the shower curtain all the way to the side. I am painfully aware that my life will be over in mere minutes.

  I turn to face him and I watch Ethan warily. “Now what?”

  “Now I break the mirror and you slice and dice,” he says as he steps towards the vanity.

  A dark laugh escapes me. “They'll never buy it. Tate knows I'm not suicidal and he'll figure out Cole was behind this in some way. Right now your brother is his number one suspect for everything. He'll come for him and in turn, he'll take you down as well,” I say deliberately. There is no doubt in my mind that my brother will figure things out and he'll nail the Randall brothers if he doesn't kill them first.

  “I already have an alibi and Cole is currently in front of dozens of witnesses at a club. We're good,” he says arrogantly before he shifts back to the mirror, though his eyes are still on me as he waits for my retort.

  I realize there's a shadow in the hallway and it takes everything within me not to let my eyes follow it. Instead, I manage to keep my eyes focused on Ethan's face as I try not to give away the fact that Noah is creeping towards the bathroom doorway, a gun drawn and held steady in his hands. He confidently holds it, letting me know he would be comfortable using it if he gets a clear shot.

  My heart begins pounds erratically. I had no idea how he knew how to use a gun but hope was finally flaring to life within me. I may not die tonight after all as long as I keep Ethan distracted so Noah can line up a clean shot.

  “You can't make me cut myself,” I say flatly.

  “Oh, you'll do it. I'm very good at getting people to do what I want.”

  Before I can say anything more, Ethan turns and lifts the revolver to slam it into the bathroom mirror. This is when time seems to slow down for a heartbeat. Ethan catches sight of Noah's reflection in the mirror and he swings around, gun already firing as Noah's gun goes off as well.

  Ethan stumbles backwards toward me, his gun lifting again while Noah calmly shoots him a second time, causing Ethan's body to jerk as he falls in my direction. I manage to scramble toward the other end of the tub as his body drops, his head making a sickening cracking sound against the edge of the tub before everything goes completely still.

  My ears are ringing and there's a high pitched sound echoing through my head as I stare down at Ethan with horror. Blood is spilling from the back of his head and his body has fallen in a slump. His head happens to still be resting on the edge of the tub and I watch with revulsion as red rivulets began to travel down the edge of the tub to make a red puddle in the bottom.

  “Blayre.”

  Noah's voice sounds muffled and I finally manage to pull my gaze from the sight of Ethan's body. When I see blood spreading across the right shoulder of his white polo, a new kind of horror sweeps through me. Noah stumbles backwards unsteadily before slowly slumping against the hall wall, his body sliding down to where he ends up sitting on the floor.

  “Noah!” I scramble out of the tub and try not to go near Ethan's body at the same time.

  “No!” Noah shouts at me. “Check his pulse,” he orders from the hall while he still holds the gun up with his good arm, his finger poised over the trigger as he keeps it aimed at Ethan.

  I freeze where I stand and reluctantly gaze down at the body resting limply against the tub. I'm only steps away from Ethan and I hesitate because I really don't want to touch him.

  “The gun is still in his hand, Blayre. You need to check for a pulse and kick the gun away.”

  He's right. I'm pretty sure he's dead, but I still force myself to reluctantly step closer and bend down to touch his neck with shaky fingers. There's no pulse. I look at Noah and I see he is watching me intently as blood spreads across the right shoulder of his shirt and makes its way down his chest.

  “He's dead,” I assure as I worry over the amount of blood he's losing.

  He nods. “Kick the gun aside anyway. Be very careful because it's still loaded.”

  I do as he says and I use the tip of my toe to ease the gun out of Ethan's now slack hand. I carefully nudge it across the floor so that it's close to the doorway before I rush for Noah and drop down on my knees beside him.

  “Towel,” he says through clenched teeth as he finally sets the gun down on the floor near his thigh and presses his hand against the wound to staunch the blood flow.

  Shit. Why hadn't I thought of that? I quickly make my way back into the bathroom and grab the first towel I see before coming back to him. He takes it, smearing blood across it from his hand before he presses it firmly against his shoulder, wincing.

  “I'll call nine-one-one,” I say in a rush before I race back into my room and I literally dump the contents of my purse out on the floor before grabbing the phone with shaking hands. I'm scared for Noah and still in shock from the night’s events. This was definitely not how I'd expected the night to go down, that's for sure.

  I make my way back to Noah as I tell the operator what had just happened and give the address. Then I toss the phone aside and drop to my knees in front of him again, my hands gentle as they frame his strained face to make him look at me. His brown eyes are dazed with pain but yet still coherent as they focus on me. “An ambulance will be here in minutes,” I assure him.

  “Clothes,” he says, his face deathly pale now. “Put some clothes on, Blayre,” he says tightly.

  I'm confused for a second at his request before it dawns on me that I'm still clad in only a red lacy bra and panties. I don't want to leave him but Noah's eyes shut as his jaw clenches. He's clearly not going to talk with me until I put something on. I do as he says and change within fifteen seconds flat before I am back again.

  His eyes open when I touch his cheek worriedly and he searches my gaze. “What the hell is going on, Blayre? Who was that guy?”

  “It's a long story,” I say softly.

  Noah studies me. “Cole. It all comes down to Cole, doesn't it?”

  I nod and realize I can hear sirens in the distance. “The ambulance is almost here. I need to go let them in. Will you be okay?” I ask as I bite my lip and glance at the now bloody towel.

  “Go,” he says simply.

  I nod and quickly race down the hall and down to the first floor. I can hear the sirens from the police cars pulling up in the street as I rush through the living room and yank open the front door. A police officer is making his way across the lawn, his gun draw
n and immediately pointed at me.

  “The intruder is dead. My friend is shot and he needs help. Please,” I say anxiously as I see more cars approaching and an ambulance pulling up at the curb. The night is now a mass blur of red and blue flashing lights. Things are hectic at first as the street is blocked off and police officers swarm the house.

  A few minutes later I find myself in my room—standing out of the way as the paramedics tend to Noah. I'm relieved to see that he is still conscious and after telling them that he's deaf, the paramedics are careful to make sure that Noah can read their lips when they ask him questions.

  Tate rushes through the crowd just as Noah's being put on a stretcher. His face is pale as he stares after Noah before forcing his way into my room. He yanks me into his arms and hugs me tightly. “I almost crashed my car when dispatch announced your call.”

  Tears sting my eyes and I hug him tightly while his belt and gun holster dig into my gut. Then I pull back and look at him anxiously. “Go check on Noah, please. I don't want him to be alone.”

  Tate frowns. “I'll be back. I need to hear what went down tonight and why there is a dead guy in the bathroom.”

  I nod and as soon as Tate disappears down the hall, I look at the two officers still in my room. One is writing in a small notepad while the other is talking on his radio. I walk over to the officer writing and he looks up at me. “I'll need your statement. Do you know who the man is in your bathroom?” he asks.

  “I do. But first I'd like to confess to a crime,” I say as I try to stop my voice from trembling. It is all going to come out now one way or another. I'd rather do it myself on my own terms though rather than waiting for the inevitable.