by Ragan, T. R.
Shit!
Brian shut the door behind him and then leaned against the door and crossed his arms. “So, why are you really here?”
Hayley stepped further into the room, closer to the bed before she turned back to face him. “I’ve missed you.” She slipped off her shoes and then took off her pants, too. No mini-skirt or wig needed tonight.
No disguises.
Just Hayley and Brian.
Standing at the end of the bed in a lacy pair of thong underwear and her favorite T-shirt, complete with bleached stains and holes, she waited for him to attack.
Nothing happened and that worried her.
He scratched his bony shoulder. “I heard about what happened to you from your mom. I guess spending time with a killer made you see how good you had it, huh?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“It’s a good thing you came,” he said. “Your mom owes me a lot of money. She’s had to fuck all of my friends and then some just to keep from groveling in the streets.”
Let it go, she told herself. “So? You got any ropes, cuffs, whips...anything at all?”
He smiled. “Wow, Spiderman must have really did a number on you.”
She spread her legs a few inches, hoping to entice him to come forward. “You think I’m here to pay you back for fucking me whenever you wanted without my permission?”
“Let’s just say I like to be prepared for any unforeseen events.”
She smiled. “I’m not the only one who has changed.”
“News gets around fast,” he said. “I know what you’ve been doing in the middle of the night when most people are sleeping.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’ll tell you this. Spending a few days with a serial killer made me see that you weren’t so bad after all.” She rubbed her neck as if it was getting hot.
“Is that so?” he asked. “I thought you hated me.”
“I thought so, too.”
He locked the door and then turned and practically lunged for her, catching her off guard. He used his body to pin her against the closet door, his facial expression a maze of hard, angry lines.
Nothing was going as planned.
Brian was sober for one thing. And he was angry with her...as if she was the one who had somehow ruined his already fucked-up life.
“Raise your arms above your head.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Tentatively, she raised both arms, glad she was backed up against the closet door, praying he wouldn’t see what was taped to her back beneath her shirt.
Brian patted her down as if he were a TSA agent at airport security, giving Hayley time to think about Lizzy and how much faith Lizzy had in her. Lizzy had taken her in and even gave her room to breathe. She treated Hayley as an equal. More often than not, she overheard Lizzy telling others how smart Hayley was and how she’d overcome so much in such a short time.
If only she knew.
Jessica knew.
Jessica had superhero abilities. Laser beams for eyes that could see right into her brain and decipher what she was thinking. Sometimes Jessica seemed to know what Hayley was going to do before Hayley knew. It was downright scary. And yet Hayley sensed that Jessica cared about her, too.
Hayley wasn’t used to having so many people care about her. Lizzy, Jessica, Cathy, Brittany. Hell, even Jared asked about her whenever he called Lizzy.
Brian took his time patting her down. His fingers felt way too familiar, callused and dry, making her feel dirty.
Hayley felt a tear roll down the side of her face. If she’d taken the time to jot down twenty things that might happen tonight, crying would not have been on the list.
Tonight was the finale, her last hurrah, the night she’d been waiting for. Tonight she would finally get her revenge: sweet, sweet revenge. She would free herself of the nightmares that had been haunting her dreams since the day Brian first walked into her room and took what didn’t belong to him.
“Are you crying? You fucking come to my house, disturb my Grand Theft Auto game, drag me into my bedroom, and now the bitch is going to cry. Unbelievable.”
He looked Hayley in the eyes, unblinking. She could smell his stale breath and feel his calloused hand through the cotton of her shirt as he massaged her breast.
She couldn’t stop shaking. Another first. Quaking in fear was not her style. But she was sure as hell shaking now.
He was a monster and she’d come to kill the monster once and for all. So what was the problem?
She’d come to Brian’s house to take care of unfinished business, and yet her feet might as well be nailed to the floor. She couldn’t move. It took everything she had inside of her just to hold in another heavy sob.
“Jesus. I can’t fuck you if you’re going to cry like a baby.” He weaved his fingers through his hair and then turned and made his way to the bedside table. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from a carton. “Funny,” he said. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all.”
Hayley tasted the saltiness of her tears on her lips as she reached a shaky hand behind and beneath her T-shirt. She couldn’t find the tape. She swallowed a lump of metallic lined panic just as her fingers brushed over the edge. Slowly, noiselessly, she lifted the corner of the tape until she felt the needle. With the needle in her hand, she used her thumb to flick off the rubber tip. “Did my mother cry?” she asked the monster.
Still shaking, but finding some semblance of control, she took short, methodical steps his way, the needle tucked in her hand, hidden behind her back as she moved toward him, watching his profile.
He packed the cigarettes against his open palm and then used his teeth to pull open the plastic strip on top. “The bitch cried every single night.” The corner of his eye crinkled when he smiled.
Hayley inhaled right before she plunged the needle into his arm. The needle went deep...cleanly and smoothly into his skin.
Brian looked from the needle in his arm to her face, clearly surprised that she’d somehow pulled a fast one on him.
There was no time to make sure she hadn’t hit a blood vessel. Not like she gave a shit.
He was going down fast.
She pulled out the needle and tossed the empty syringe on the floor. She’d never given anyone an injection before.
First time for everything.
Chapter 39
Nothing Worse Than the Dark
The downhill part of the trail had been easy, but the uphill part had already left Lizzy breathless. A few weeks at the gym, it seemed, had done her absolutely no good.
Detective Roth was right. She should have waited for backup. Why did she always find herself alone in the dark? There was nothing she hated worse than being alone in the dark.
She reached over her shoulder and touched her Glock. Despite the cool air, her palms were sweaty. Every once in a while the flashlight on her phone would go out and she had to hit a few buttons to get it to light her way again.
Eerie shadows and strange noises came at her from every direction. Her heart rate jumped. Keeping her eyes glued to the forest floor in front of her, she decided to concentrate on her breathing. Each breath came out in cold bursts of white fog as she kept a steady pace. Every so often she stopped and looked around, making sure she hadn’t passed by a distant cabin.
Her flashlight app went out again, leaving her in the pitch dark.
A rustling of leaves caught her full attention. She stopped where she was, careful not to make a sound, glad the light had gone out, leaving her camouflaged between myriad trees and dead branches.
Even the crickets stopped chirping.
A twig snapped nearby, startling Lizzy. She grabbed her Glock and held it straight ahead. With the thumb of her free hand, she pushed the button on her phone. The bright light shone a few feet ahead where she saw a shadowy figure running through the woods.
Lizzy smelled smoke.
She looked in the direction the shadowy figure
had come. In the distance, she saw a bright light. Fire.
Whoever had run off was in familiar territory and knew exactly where they were going; the dark figure was long gone, disappearing behind a copse of trees.
Lizzy looked back toward the fire. The flames had already doubled in size. She ran uphill as fast as her legs could manage. That damn treadmill was finally paying off.
***
Getting Brian from the floor to the bed had been easier than she’d thought it would be. Brian wasn’t nearly as heavy as Tango and Hayley was thankful for that. Now that Brian was secured to the bed, she dressed quickly. Quietly, she opened the window, climbed out and found her backpack beneath the window to her left, right where she had left it. Back in the room with Brian, she secured the window and then watched him for a moment. He was naked and vulnerable, tied with ropes and duct taped to the bed, arranged a little differently than Dr. Williams and Peter had been. She didn’t have time to lollygag. She needed to work fast.
After plugging in the soldering iron, she pulled out her knife kit and examined the contents: a classic tactical hunting knife with reverse serration; her Remington three-piece skinner set for big game; and her personal favorite, a radical gut hook with four inch blade, designed for maximum performance.
She reached out and touched each knife, figuring she had at least twenty minutes before one of his friends came to and got curious. Hopefully they drank all of the tainted tequila she brought for them.
She looked longingly at her choice of knives and finally selected the four-inch gut hook. Moving closer to the bed, she looked into Brian’s eyes as she held the cold blade to his throat.
For a fleeting moment, she hated the way she felt. The urge to slice open his carotid artery and watch the blood seep from his pale flesh was nearly too great to resist. She pressed the knife to his skin and watched the blade as it slid across the thin skin, pressing hard enough to make blood appear and make him squirm.
She inhaled a breath of moldy, shitty air and pulled away. “Guess what?”
He was awake now and he was mumbling beneath the tape over his mouth.
“You were right. I came here tonight to make you pay for every shitty thing you ever did to my mom and me. Tonight you’re going to die. But first I want you to think about what you’ve done.”
She set the knife down and grabbed the soldering iron instead. She climbed on top of him, surprised at how calm he managed to stay. He wasn’t bucking and fighting her like the others. He said a few words beneath the duct tape and then fell quiet, his eyes watching her every move.
The craziest part was he looked as if he was enjoying every moment. Brian knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t need words to use reverse psychology on her. He was trying to guilt her with his eyes. By the time she finished burning the first word into his flesh, the gleam in his eyes matched that of the devil. “I forgot,” she said. “You don’t like tattoos and body piercings, do you?”
He didn’t acknowledge her, but his eyes still bore into her, non-blinking.
“Just two words, Brian. No big deal. I’ll make sure you’re bare-chested while you lay in your coffin so that when your friends pay their respects they can see your new tattoo: Child Rapist,” she said, so he’d know the words she’d seared across his chest.
***
Vivian woke to the smell of smoke.
She was on the floor, bleeding from stab wounds, mostly to the legs and arms. She’d fought Andrea Kramer, surprising her with a knife of her own. But Andrea was taller and stronger, and she’d gotten the best of Vivian.
Most of the wounds were not as deep as the one in Vivian’s leg. The knife had come at Vivian, over and over until she’d finally feigned her death. Only then had Andrea stopped attacking. With blood everywhere, Andrea must have decided the only way to get rid of the evidence was to burn the place down.
The smoke was thick, making it difficult to breathe. Vivian dragged herself toward the door, but the chain wouldn’t allow her to reach the knob. The kitchen was lit up, popping and crackling as the blaze spread. Flames flickered, gulping up oxygen and coming Vivian’s way.
“Is anybody in there?”
Vivian wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the voice coming from outside, but she shouted back just in case someone was there. “I’m in here!”
“Get away from the door,” the voice yelled back.
Vivian crawled toward the window and away from the flames and the door.
Gunfire sounded. Three shots fired in all before the door was kicked open. The woman who entered was slight in frame, her face and body haloed by flames that reached the ceiling behind her. Vivian still weighed close to 200 pounds. There was no way this woman would be able to get her out of here.
The blaze spread quickly. The smoke was thicker than ever.
Vivian could hardly see her. She had nothing left. She couldn’t crawl, let alone breathe. As she realized her last moments were upon her, she watched a smoky shadow yank the blanket from the bed. Before Vivian knew what the woman was up to, Vivian felt her body being rolled onto the blanket and dragged toward the door until the chain stopped her from going any further.
The woman cursed as she whipped out her gun, firing at the chain at close range. The chain snapped apart.
Vivian’s ears rang from the sounds of gunshot. She felt a fiery heat against her face as the flames drew close.
And then she felt a tug.
The woman was stronger than she looked. She pulled the blanket with Vivian on top of it through a wall of fire and smoke. The last thing Vivian remembered was the way each wood step felt pounding against her head as she was dragged outside and down the stairs.
***
By the time Hayley was done burning the message onto Brian’s chest, much of her anger had subsided. That had never happened before and she didn’t like it one bit.
Despite his being determined to watch her every move, Brian had drifted in and out of consciousness.
He was awake now.
She slid off the bed, unplugged the iron and went back to the side of the bed to look at her knives. Which one, she wondered, should she use to cut out his heart?
She ripped the tape from his mouth in case he wanted to say any last words. He chose to remain silent, which annoyed her more than it should have.
“You’re going to die, Brian. Any messages you want me to relay to family and friends?”
Nothing.
She took hold of the knife with the longest blade. Once she cut into him, a voice in her head warned her, she would be a killer and there would be no going back.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She had come to terms with the idea of being a killer a long time ago. That was the plan. Stick to it. Since when did she ever second guess herself?
“Having second thoughts?” Brian asked.
Her mouth tightened as she put the sharp tip of the blade over the area where his heart lay beneath flesh.
It wasn’t the blood that would bother her. It was the taking of a life. But he wasn’t human. He was a monster. He deserved to die.
She was angry with herself for being so fucking pitiful. The idea that she might not be able to kill the monster had never once entered her mind over the past few months. Not once.
Her hands shook. She couldn’t do it. She exhaled and began packing the knives away.
If she couldn’t kill the monster, she’d have to think of another way to get him away from her mother. Maybe she could save some money and take her mom to another country where they would live for the rest of their lives—somewhere remote—a place where Brian would never find them no matter how hard or how long he looked.
She packed up the rest of her belongings. By the time she was at the door ready to go, Brian had found his voice.
“The first place I’m going when I get out of here is to your mom’s house. The old, ugly bitch is going to pay for her daughter’s bad deeds. I’m going to use the axe out in the shed to cut her head cle
an off. It’s much sharper than those toy knives you carry around.”
A bubble of rage worked its way up Hayley’s throat, leaving a bitter taste. He was a big talker and she knew he was full of shit, but the fact that he could say those things while she still had full control was too much. He wouldn’t shut up.
The rage built quickly, filling her head until she could hardly see straight. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out her knives and grabbed the hunting knife. Her fury continued to build upon his every word.
As Brian continued to ramble on about all the awful things he would do to her mother, she turned toward him, the knife held in front of her as she walked back to him.
Looking into his eyes, letting him know she wasn’t afraid of him, she grabbed hold of his shriveled penis with her left hand and pulled and stretched. With one clean sweep of the knife, his penis was no longer attached to his ugly skinny body.
He was shouting now, screaming at the top of his lungs. Much better, she thought, because she no longer had any clue what he was saying.
Blood spurted, covering the bed and his body, but he wouldn’t shut the fuck up so she went to his side and when he opened his mouth to call her one more name she’d heard a million times before, she shoved his ugly bloody penis inside his mouth. “There. Chew on that for a while, dickhead.”
***
It was morning and Lizzy hadn’t slept in nearly 48 hours. She stood outside Andrea Kramer’s house in El Dorado Hills and watched as Andrea was read her rights.
Detective Roth stood at Lizzy’s side, talking on the phone. After he hung up he said, “They found Diane’s body, what was left of it, buried in the woods not far from the cabin.”
“Murder?”
“Looks that way. Multiple stab wounds. They’ll be running tests for a few days. I’ll call you when I have the results.”
Lizzy nodded, thankful to have met Detective Roth. He had a round face. Multiple laugh lines and deep dimples gave him character. He was quick to smile and easy to like.