Before A Perfect World: Movie Trilogy, Book Two (The Movie Trilogy)

by Kimberly Stedronsky

  I cringed, my heart breaking. “I won’t eat in front of you.”

  “Yes you fucking will.”

  His commanding tone startled me, and I swallowed hard.

  “Where are they? The FBI? How can this be happening?” I begged.

  He turned away from me, resting his head against the wall. His face had swollen overnight, and the bruises absolutely gutted me.

  “Keaton?”

  “I’ll hear him when he gets back. I’m going to rest while I know you’re safe.”

  “You stayed awake all night, didn’t you?” I whispered, fighting back the pangs of hunger in my belly.

  “We’re getting out of here,” he replied.

  I took a careful breath, closing my eyes.

  And I waited.

  Touch of Evil

  K

  If I slept, I couldn’t tell.

  My body ached, and I was so goddamn cold. The sound of the door opening jolted me awake, and I watched Vivian’s eyes open in fear.

  Derrick carried a brown paper bag and a box of saltine crackers.

  He set the crackers and a bottle of water next to Vivian on the bed.

  “Please give some to him,” she pleaded immediately, her eyes on me.

  “You’re going to eat in front of him or not at all.” His menacing tone was not nearly as compassionate with her as it had been earlier.

  I wondered what had changed.

  It had already become apparent to me that he intended to be careful with her. If he truly planned on raping her in front of me, he had to know that it would destroy her. Based on his actions up until that moment, I was beginning to believe that he would continue to care for her, no matter how little or for what reason.

  And then, my mind would circle back to the fact that he’d just spent months on a killing spree, and I felt like banging my head against the wall.

  “Vivian, eat.” I shifted my legs uncomfortably. It hadn’t been the first time that I’d woken up slumped over, dirty, and damp with my own piss, but usually that involved a long night of drinking.

  “Yes, Vivian, eat,” Derrick echoed, reaching into the brown paper bag. “I even got you a toothbrush and some toothpaste. I want you to be at your best for tonight’s big scene.”

  She covered her stomach, and I could tell that she was nauseated.

  “If you try to feed him, I’m going to hurt your pretty face, do you understand?” His voice grated on my spine, and I watched her big, blue eyes widen in terror. “Director, are you feeling strong enough to direct this scene? Or would you prefer I took over?” Derrick turned to me, and I lazily lifted my eyes to his.

  “Is this the scene where you go fuck yourself? I’m ready whenever you are,” I drawled, keeping my emotions in check.

  He only grinned, squatting down in front of me.

  “You have to wonder why I didn’t break your face like you broke mine. Why do you think that is, Director?”

  I didn’t answer him. Vivian watched us in horror, her entire body tense.

  “Let me tell you why.” He turned his face slightly, toward Vivian. “I want you fully aware. Hyper-aware, if you will. Unable to look away.”

  I deadpanned, raising my eyebrows with a bored stare. “Then I could use a cup of coffee.”

  He laughed, shooting to his feet and continuing to chuckle on this way out the door.

  The moment that we were left alone again, Vivian scrambled for the crackers and water. “I’m going to throw these to you,” she said urgently.

  “No,” I urged. “I’m not giving him any reason to touch you.”

  “I don’t think he’s looking for a reason.”

  She removed a handful of crackers, taking a sip of the water. Minutes later, she slid off the cot with the bottle.

  “Don’t,” I ordered.

  “Get ready,” she replied, rolling the plastic water bottle my way. It stopped against my bare foot, and I reached for it, shaking my head.

  “You don’t listen.”

  “Drink. I’m going to figure out a way to get these crackers over to you.”

  I took a long sip of the water, letting the liquid soothe my burning throat. “No. If I eat, I’ll vomit, kiddo. I know my body well enough. Just keep them, and eat them slowly. Save some. Hide them in my jacket pocket if you can.”

  Her chin quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “Okay,” she managed.

  We spent almost an hour in silence, her nibbling on the crackers, me focused on my watch and wondering why he let me keep it.

  He wants me to know how much time is passing.

  The thought of his disgusting body on hers nearly sent me into a futile rage. I dug my fingers into my scalp, lowering my face to my knees. “I know that I told you to fight, to give me a chance to save you. But I don’t want him to have a reason to hit you, Vivian. So I want you to be strong, and we’ll get through this together, okay?”

  She broke into inconsolable sobs then, and I sighed heavily, fighting back the burning moisture in my eyes.

  Darkness fell around us as the sun began to set. I no longer felt the need to urinate.

  The moment the door burst open, both of our faces turned in his direction.

  I registered the second man before she did, my chest caving in.

  “Matthew? No…” she moaned, turning to Derrick as tears streamed down her face. “Don’t hurt him!”

  “Vivian, are you okay?” Matthew asked urgently. Derrick let him go to her, the gun aimed at both of them the entire time.

  He dropped to the cot and she fell into his arms, letting him comfort her. “I’m okay, but Keaton isn’t,” she cried tearfully, her eyes on me before turning back to Derrick. “Please don’t hurt them!” she screamed, her neck and chest breaking into red, emotional hives.

  “Keaton… holy shit,” Fowler breathed, and only then did I realize that his own eye beneath his stupid fucking glasses was black and blue. “Jesus. He needs a doctor,” he murmured incredulously, turning to our captor. “You have options here. What you decide could mean the difference between life in prison or the death penalty.”

  “Alright, Director, are we ready?” Derrick asked, completely ignoring Fowler’s words.

  “Are our families okay?” Vivian begged, and Fowler nodded.

  “They’re scared to death for both of you, but they’re safe.” He turned to Derrick. “He had someone knock me out, and I’ve been on the road for hours.”

  “That’s right, get comfortable with each other,” Derrick encouraged. “Love scenes are especially difficult when everyone’s watching. Right, Director?” he taunted.

  “Fuck you, lunatic.” I shifted against the wall, watching Vivian.

  “Vivian, I’ll let you go to your dressing room to get freshened up. Here you go,” he added, the pistol trained on her as he handed her the brown paper bag. “Teeth, hair, makeup. You’ll want to look your absolute best.”

  “You’re fucking sick,” she hissed, limping toward the bathroom. When she disappeared inside, we all heard her turn on the sink.

  “If you think you’re going to force yourself on her in front of us, you’re out of your fucking mind,” Fowler said, exhaling quickly and shaking his head. “I don’t care how many guns you have pointed at my head. I’m not letting that happen.”

  Derrick kept the weapon pointed at Fowler, moving to the camera. “Oh, no, I’m just the casting director. You’re the star,” he replied, aiming the camera at the putrid cot.

  My arms went numb.

  Fowler turned to look at me, and I alternated between relief and rage.

  “Me?” Fowler demanded, pointing at the cot. “You think I’m going to force her?”

  “It’s me or you. Your choice.”

  “God-fucking-damnit,” I growled, yanking furiously at the chain around my ankle. “You’re going to fucking pay for this. What I did to your face is nothing compared to what I’m going to do to your fucking life.”

  “Now he’s awake,” Derrick taunted, grin
ning. “Let’s see if our star is ready. Vivian?”

  She stepped into the room, my jacket covering most of her entire upper body.

  “Now, we have our stars. Director, how should we start? Kissing? Yes, I think kissing.”

  Fowler turned to Vivian, and she looked between us all in confusion.

  “Kiss Matthew?” she clarified, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her lips.

  “Vivian.” Fowler’s voice lowered, and he moved to her, his eyes on Derrick. When the psycho did nothing to stop him, I watched him pull her into his arms.

  The gun cocked, and he tightened his hold on her. I jerked at the chain, some kind of feral burn eating away at my chest.

  “What do you say, Director? Fast or slow? Should he undress her?”

  Vivian’s eyes whipped to mine, and she gripped my jacket at her neck. “What?”

  “Kiss him. Now.”

  He moved forward and pressed the barrel of the gun to Vivian’s head.

  Jesus fucking Christ, I lost my mind.

  “Get the fuck off of her! Get off!” I roared, nearly tearing my ankle from its bones.

  “Matthew,” she sobbed, staring up at him, her head tilted by the pressure of the gun at her temple.

  “Tell them what to do!” Derrick shouted at me.

  I wrenched at the chain again, and he pressed harder against her head. Vivian moaned, flattening her body against Fowler’s.

  “Kiss him,” I finally growled, my fist balled at my sides. “Fucking kiss him.”

  “I’m not going to let him hurt you,” Fowler said quietly, sliding his hands over her face. Derrick finally pulled the gun away, and he tilted her chin up to look at him. “Tell her it’s okay Keaton,” he added, turning sideways to meet my icy glare. “Tell her it doesn’t matter, and that you love her no matter what,” he urged me.

  His words flatlined my temper.

  “It doesn’t matter, V,” I finally said, letting my face fall.

  She rose to her tiptoes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she met his lips.

  His arms went around her, and he lifted her against his body.

  “How’s that, Director? Either she’s a really good actress, or she’s enjoying herself,” Derrick taunted. “Tell him to take off her clothes.”

  “No,” Vivian cried, breaking away. Her entire body was shaking, and Fowler- Matthew- was doing his best to comfort her.

  “Take them off.” I backed against the wall, sliding down the wooden panel.

  She turned to look at the gun, continuing to sob as she removed my coat and her dress.

  Her abdomen was barely there, just the slightest curve that I’d memorized over the past few months. She tried to cover her breasts with her arms.

  He waved the gun at Fowler. “All of it. Off.”

  “Fucking asshole,” Matthew hissed, pulling his bloodied shirt over his head and wrapping it around her shaking shoulders.

  Derrick looked my way. “Tell them to get on the bed.”

  “Get on the bed,” I ordered tersely, unable to hold back the need to rile the fuck out of him. “Get on the bed and fuck her. Don’t finish until she does. Vivian, make sure you scream the right name. We don’t want to have to do this more than once.”

  My words had the exact effect that I’d intended.

  Derrick turned to me, his ugly face a mask of frustration. “Isn’t this just killing you, knowing how much she still loves him?”

  “I guess.” I shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Keaton,” Vivian hissed.

  I didn’t expect him to shoot, but he did.

  The gun firing was only noise at first.

  And then it was pain.

  Vivian was screaming, and Matthew was holding her back from running to me. My shoulder felt like it’d been torn from its socket; I tried for an even breath, and then the fucking fires of hell crept into every torn and mutilated muscle.

  “Keaton! Keaton!” She was screaming so hard, her voice grew thin.

  I tried to breathe evenly, but my natural instinct was to pant to make up for the incredible pain.

  “I don’t know why it’s taking you so long to realize that I’ve killed women. Killed them. Trying to pin it on you. I am going to kill you, Thane, and whether or not I put a bullet in her head is up to you.”

  “No,” I exhaled quickly.

  “Good. Now, tell them to fuck.”

  Vivian was gripping my jacket to her chest, sobbing. Matthew had gone completely cold and sober, gripping Vivian by her shoulders and turning her to him. “It’s just me,” he said, under his breath. “It’s just me, baby. Okay? Come here.”

  God, I wanted to die. If he truly wanted revenge on me for what I’d done to him, he couldn’t have planned it better. I was growing so fucking cold, and I had a feeling I was going into shock.

  While watching Fowler kiss and touch my future wife.

  I wished he’d have shot me in the head as I watched Fowler lifted her into his arms and gently place her on the dirty mattress.

  His hand slid up the side of her leg, and she winced, still gripping my jacket to her chest.

  “Great,” Derrick called, moving behind the camera again. “Put your hand between her legs. I want a close-up.”

  “I’m sorry,” Matthew whispered to her, his hand disappearing between her thighs as he moved his mouth over hers. She sobbed, turning to face me before closing her eyes.

  “What do you think, Director?”

  I couldn’t talk. My entire body began to shake, and only then did I realize that blood was pouring down my arm, soaking my t-shirt.

  “I can’t do this,” Matthew said, his forehead dropping to her chest.

  “Is she too dry for you? I’ll help.” Derrick started toward Vivian, and I closed my eyes, praying, praying to the God that I knew existed.

  He had to exist.

  I had Vivian, our baby, a future and a life ahead of me for a few brief, fleeting moments.

  He shoved the gun into Matthew’s temple, reaching between Vivian’s legs.

  At that moment, Vivian’s sharp movement stoked my consciousness.

  She pulled the toothbrush from my jacket pocket, reared back, and screamed as she stabbed the fucking plastic stick right through his eye.

  The stunned second of silence rocked the entire cabin with a surreal hum.

  He roared, flying backward and stumbling. At the same moment, Fowler made a break for the gun.

  Derrick swung his arm in my direction and aimed at my chest.

  Fowler shoved him hard, and the gunshot sounded even as the weapon flew from his hand. I slammed against the wall, managing to reach for the gun at my side and take aim.

  I fired at his head.

  Within a second, I realized that he’d shot me in the chest.

  “Keaton!” Vivian sobbed, running to me and dropping to her knees. She slid in his blood, skin and matter covering the ground near my feet. “Keaton! Please, God, Keaton don’t die! Keaton!”

  Her voice grew softer as she screamed, something I’d never understand.

  I managed to smile at her before I closed my eyes.

  The Big Sleep

  V

  “Dial! Vivian, dial!” Matthew shouted at me.

  I was vaguely aware that he’d fished a cell phone out of the murder’s pocket. I dropped the phone into the pool of blood, moaning as I reached for the device.

  “He still has a pulse. Dial, maybe they can trace us,” he urged.

  It was an iPhone. Every time I tried to touch a number, my finger slipped on the bloody screen.

  9-1-1.

  Matthew took the phone from me, and I heard him speaking from somewhere far-away.

  “Keaton?”

  He lay slumped over, blood all over him and around him. I was naked, shivering, and dripping with blood.

  So much blood.

  “I love you,” I whispered, reaching for his hand and threading my fingers through his. “I love you, please don’t
leave me,” I begged.

  “They’re trying to find us,” Matthew said, turning to me. “Is he breathing?”

  “I don’t think so,” I exhaled sharply, lowering my forehead to his hand. “Keaton, breathe, please,” I pleaded.

  “There’s… so much blood… I can’t tell if it’s from his arm or his chest,” Matthew said, trying to peel away Keaton’s t-shirt. “Vivian. Jesus Christ, I don’t think he’s breathing.”

  “No…”

  The world tilted around me. I curled against Keaton’s hip, sobbing, trying desperately to determine why this was all happening.

  I couldn’t bury Keaton. I wouldn’t survive.

  “I… I think I hear sirens.”

  Matthew’s arms wrapped around me, tentatively at first, and then more firmly.

  “I’m not leaving him.”

  “I’m not asking you to. But you have to back away so they can work on him, beauty.”

  His name for me sounded almost foreign to my ears. It forced me to remember a time when I never knew Keaton, when I couldn’t imagine loving anyone as much as I loved Matthew.

  That time was over. Gone.

  I love Keaton.

  Ambulances. Police. FBI.

  I was shaking uncontrollably as I was urged to lie down on a stretcher. I watched as several paramedics hovered over Keaton and fired orders at each other.

  “I can walk, and I’m staying with her,” Matthew said firmly, shrugging one EMT away. “I’m not leaving her side.”

  “Is he alive?” I begged, even as a needle was jabbed into my arm.

  “How far along are you, honey?” one of the female medics asked, tenderly probing my abdomen. “Ten, twelve weeks?”

  “Keaton!” I screamed, trying to get their attention. “Is he alive?”

  One man stood up from where he’d been working over Keaton’s body, walking to me. “Miss Hale, his pulse is very weak, but it’s there. Please let the medics take care of you, and you’ll be together soon, okay?”

  I nodded quickly, letting Matthew take my hand.

  The quick rush of cold in my veins stunned me, and I gripped his fingers as they began to carry me out of the horrible cabin.

  “Matthew don’t leave,” I whispered, and he shook his head firmly.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”