by T. K. Leigh
Nick is the epitome of a lie parading around as the truth.
“Yes, I was scared, terrified. I still am. But Dad said something today that stuck with me. ‘It’s never too late to get on the right path.’ So that’s what I’m doing. Getting on the right path. And hopefully this will help you get on your right path, too.” She reaches into her purse and produces a leather-bound journal, handing it to me.
“What’s this?” I ask hesitantly, my eyes skating over Nick’s familiar scrawl on the front, spelling out the name of the mythological creature from which I’ve drawn strength these past few weeks.
“Proof.”
“Proof?” My breathing grows more uneven, my fingers trembling slightly as I run them along the surface.
“Yes. It’s all in there. Everything you need to back up your claims. And probably things you never even knew about.”
I stare at the journal, a bout of dizziness overtaking me. “Is it bad?”
“It’s not easy to read. At least mine wasn’t.”
I dart my eyes to hers. “Yours?”
“Yeah.” She smiles sadly. “Hera. There are others, too.”
“Others?”
“Over a dozen, all named after a different character from mythology.” She draws in a deep breath. “Many of whom were raped.”
“Just like Hera,” I exhale.
“And Medusa.” She extends her hand.
Without hesitating, I take it in mine, no longer caring about any protective order. Like I suspected, it was a ploy to keep us from figuring out the truth. But that’s the thing about the truth. It can only stay hidden for so long.
Steeling myself, I pull my hand from hers and set the journal on the island, opening it. My face heats as I’m bombarded with Nick’s meticulous observations of me. But that’s not what has me on the brink of purging the contents of my stomach. It’s the fact that this predates our first encounter by over a year.
A year he spent watching me, unbeknownst to me.
A year he stood in the shadows.
A year he learned everything he could about me.
Julia wraps an arm around my shoulders, supporting me when I feel like the floor is about to disappear from under me. Pressure builds in my chest, my mind numb as I read how he’d first noticed me sitting in the quad on campus with my sketch pad. How I immediately caught his attention, standing out from a sea of conformity. How he became infatuated with me, even going so far as to find out where I lived when not at school, traveling to the house I shared with Sawyer just to watch me over the summer.
“It went on for so long,” I manage to say as I flip through the pages, not having even reached our first meeting.
How could I have been so blind? How could I have not noticed him observing my every move?
The more I read, the more my stomach churns with every rationalization of his actions.
And the sickening part? He truly believes he didn’t do anything wrong. That he actually helped me. He was so convinced I needed him, to the point of obsession. He claimed I was trapped in a world I wanted no part of. That I deserved to be free. That he was the only one who could free me.
I slam the cover closed, my jaw clenching as I shake my head, rage seeping through every inch of me. I want to scream, cry, punch a hole in the wall.
But mostly, I want vengeance. For me. For Julia. For all the other women Nick did this to.
We deserve that much.
“Come on.” I clutch the book and spin abruptly, slinging the duffle bag and my purse over my shoulder before making my way toward the front door.
“Where are we going?” she asks, catching up to me.
“To show this to my lawyer.” I wave the journal in front of her. “You say there are more?”
“Dozens. And then there are the urns.”
I stop before opening the door. “Urns?”
“Maybe urn isn’t the right word. They’re wooden boxes. He told me they contained his pets’ remains.” She laughs under her breath. “I suppose he didn’t exactly lie about that. I’d assumed he was talking about cats or dogs.”
“He wasn’t?”
She slowly shakes her head. “Each box has a gold plate with a name that matches one of his journals.”
“And inside?” I ask, although I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
“Tokens. Things he stole. Jewelry. Perfume. A piece of clothing. A lock of hair. That’s what’s in yours.”
“What?”
“A lock of hair.”
I didn’t think I could feel any more violated than I did the night Nick forced himself on me. But I do. The knowledge that he did all of this without me knowing makes me question everything. He stalked me. Observed me from afar. Entered my home and cut off a lock of my hair without me even knowing.
“This needs to stop,” I say with determination. “Before he adds another box to his collection.”
Julia nods and extends her hand toward me. Meeting her intense gaze, I take it, drawing strength from the fact that I’m no longer alone in this battle. She opens the door, both of us stepping into the bright sunlight. And that’s what it feels like. Like I’m finally stepping out of the darkness of my past and into my future.
I only make it a feet few before a sharp pain hits the side of my head, everything going dark.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Londyn
A throbbing ache pulses in my head when I come out of whatever state I’ve been in for however long. I feel some sort of wetness on my temple, which I assume must be blood. But I can’t move my arms to verify that. I blink my eyes open, disoriented, despite the familiar surroundings of Wes’ garage.
Over the past several weeks, I’ve spent hours out here, transforming dilapidated pieces of furniture into something usable. Now I can’t shake the feeling it may be the place where I draw my final breath. Why else would my wrists and ankles be bound, preventing escape?
But escape from whom?
Who was the shadow that came out of nowhere, attacking me and Julia?
Julia…
I squint, searching for any sign of her, breath hitching when I spot her a few feet away. Her wrists and ankles are bound like mine, her body propped against a dresser, head hanging, everything about her lifeless.
Oh god. Please no…
“Julia,” I whisper-shout, but she doesn’t move.
I attempt to wiggle closer to her, but my restraints make it impossible. I try to make out the rise and fall of her chest, praying she’s still alive. But I see no motion. No life. Nothing.
“Julia,” I say again, this time louder, my voice more urgent. “Julia, please…”
Finally, I notice a slight movement and expel a small breath.
She lifts her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Londyn,” she manages to say. “I should have been more careful. Shouldn’t have left everything out for Nick to find.”
I swallow hard. Of course the shadow was Nick. He’s been a shadow in my existence for years now.
“It’s okay.” I force a smile, although nothing about this situation is okay. “We’ll be okay.”
“How?”
I open my mouth, unsure what to tell her.
When I first met her, I thought her to be a strong, tenacious woman. Even after everything went down, there was still a fire in her eyes, giving me hope that she’d find a way to break free. But now, it’s gone.
Nick’s finally succeeded in doing what he set out to do from the beginning.
He broke her, like he did me.
But buried inside me somewhere was a fighter. Like I know there’s a fighter inside Julia. She just needs to realize it.
“Because you’re Hera. You don’t take shit from anyone,” I insist. “Zeus may have been the king of the gods, but there was only one being he feared. And it wasn’t Hades.”
The defeat that had covered her expression wanes. “It was Hera,” she exhales.
“Exactly. Nick may worship and idolize you.
But he also fears you. Don’t forget that.”
“He fears me,” she tests the words, almost as in affirmation.
Suddenly, the door flings open with a loud bang, like a formidable clap of thunder. We simultaneously whip our gazes toward Nick as he saunters down the short flight of stairs from the laundry room and into the garage.
“Well, well, well…,” he begins slyly. “Look who’s finally awake. I was beginning to worry I caused more damage than I intended and would miss out on some playtime.”
His cruel voice forces a shiver down my spine. Julia’s eyes lock with mine, wide with panic and fear. But I give her an encouraging nod, silently reminding her exactly who she is. Who she needs to be if we’re to make it out of this.
Nick crouches in front of Julia, swiping away the few tears on her cheeks. “My sweet, sweet girl. Do you know how much it pains me to see you like this?”
“Then why are you doing this?” she demands. Her words come out stronger than I expected.
Stronger than Nick expected, too.
But it’s not the tone Julia uses that catches him off guard. It’s the disappointment laced within that probably sends him over the edge.
He shoots to his feet, his demeanor shifting from calm and collected to agitated and distressed. “What choice did you leave me?” He paces, digging his fingers into his blond hair, the sling he wore now nothing more than a memory.
I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he never needed it to begin with. Like I doubt he needed the wheelchair during Lydia’s press conference.
“Do you think I wanted things to go this way? It wasn’t supposed to. It was never part of the plan.”
“Then tell me why. Help me understand.”
“You wouldn’t. You never could. You’ve always been happy to live in your own little bubble, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I—”
“It’s who you are. Who they turned you into. I tried to help, tried to set you free. Make you remember the girl you used to be before you were taken away from me.”
“What are you talking about?” Julia asks cautiously. “When was I taken away from you?”
“My point exactly,” he barks out. “You don’t remember. You didn’t care anymore. Not once you had your nice new family with tons of money. You no longer had any use for the foster family that saved you from being abused by a drug addict and her dealers.”
“I didn’t know you back then, Nick. I—”
He widens his stance, lips pinched. “Are you sure about that, Juju Bear?”
“Juju Bear…,” she repeats deliberately, her voice low. She blinks slowly, brow pinched in contemplation. Then her gaze widens. “That was you.”
It’s not a question, but a statement, one that leaves me more and more confused as I attempt to unravel this mystery.
“You were that quiet boy. You looked out for me. Kept all the mean kids at school in line.”
“Exactly.” His eyes awash with a nostalgic gleam, he kneels, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “We may have only been kids, but I knew there was something about you. I knew you needed me to save you…” He brushes his thumb along her bottom lip. “My Hera.”
She closes her eyes, basking in his touch. Even I can’t tell if she’s acting. It feels so real.
“I watched what these people did to you, how they transformed you from this innocent little girl into a jaded woman who would do anything anyone asked just for something I would freely give you.”
“And what’s that?” she asks with a hard swallow.
“Love. And it was because of my love that I knew I had to set you free.”
“By drugging me, then assaulting me and making me think I’d lost my mind?” she asks with a quiver.
If she expected her words to have any impact on him, she’s mistaken. As I gathered from reading his journal entries, Nick honestly believes his actions were justified. That he helped her. Helped me. Helped every single woman he victimized.
“I understand how difficult this must be for you to wrap your head around, but trust me when I say you needed me to do that. You needed me to make you aware of how vulnerable you’d become. Only when one faces their weakness can they find their strength. That’s what I did. Gave you the strength to leave your old life behind.” His grip on her face tightens, his voice becoming deeper with passion. “If I didn’t do what I did, you would have drowned in your desperate need for approval. I saved you.”
She stares ahead, her expression unreadable. “And the others?” Her lips form into a tight line, her jaw tightening. “Did you save all of them by raping them, too?”
“Don’t cheapen what I’ve done.” He rises to stand, indignant at her accusation. “I did what all those women needed…” He looks in my direction. “Take Miss Bennett over here.”
He stalks toward me. When he brings his hand to my cheek, I stiffen, holding my breath. The mere idea of his skin on mine churns my stomach. But Julia endured. I can, too.
“She was so weak, forced to marry a man she’d never love because of some misguided need to never disappoint her father, thinking he’d only love her if she did everything he asked of her.”
I part my lips, about to argue he’s wrong, that I had other reasons for marrying Sawyer. But that’s not true. I know it’s not. Worse, Nick knows it’s not.
“Like Julia, you needed to be saved. To be set free. So that’s what I did. I saved you,” he emphasizes, his eyes filled with compassion before darkening. “And how do you repay me for everything I’ve done?” He jumps to standing, the wild pendulum of his mania swinging once more. “Attempt to turn me into campus police. Thankfully, I’d already alerted your department head to your infatuation with me.”
“I wasn’t infatuated,” I argue. “You were the one who stalked me. Who broke into my home and cut off a lock of my hair!”
“Don’t fool yourself. You were just as infatuated with me. You never frequented the coffee shop with much regularity until you kept running into me there. You never spent much time in the English building until we became more friendly. And let’s not even talk about the dress you chose to wear to the masquerade ball.”
“So is that all it takes for you to believe your actions were justified?” I counter harshly, blood rushing through my veins. “A short dress and a few chance encounters? I can’t be the only one who ever questioned you. Who ever said enough is enough and decided to seek justice. I get why Julia never did,” I continue, giving her a reassuring smile. “She’s been imprisoned under your constant influence and control. You can’t honestly tell me no one else has stood up to you.”
“Unlike you, most women are thankful I helped them.”
“Most women?”
He flinches, obviously not expecting me to read between the lines. But thanks to him, I’ve learned to analyze everything a person says and does. It’s the only way I’ve been able to protect myself from history repeating itself.
“Yes.”
“And those who saw you for who you are?”
He doesn’t utter a single syllable in response, simply glowers at me with a sinister glare. In that one look, I know precisely what he’s done. It’s what he threatened to do to me.
What I fear he’s about to do now that he has the chance again.
“You’re lucky you got away with it,” I comment, knowing my remark will incense him. My insinuation that his ability to walk free has to do with luck and not his intelligence obviously eats away at him. To the point of him spilling his secrets.
“I don’t do anything without careful planning,” he retorts smugly. “All the months I’d spent observing you, finding out your likes, dislikes, dreams, ambitions, fears… It was all for a reason. By the time I finally approached you, I knew everything about you. I probably knew you better than you knew yourself. So disposing of someone who threatens everything I’ve built?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s easy if you pay attention. Look how easy it was to pin the house fire on Grady Stowe.”
My eyes widen at the same time as Julia’s jaw drops. I was so confident it was Grady. Everyone was. He’d all but threatened to set the house on fire in front of a diner full of people. It couldn’t be anyone else. Could it?
“See?” Nick says through our utter surprise. “That’s the problem with society. Everyone is so focused on social media, on how many likes they got on their latest Instagram post that they ignore the world around them. But not me. I observe. I listen. Then I act.”
In one swift move, he reaches into his back pocket and draws out a utility knife with a curved blade I use for cutting carpet or linoleum. When he brings it up to my throat, I stiffen, the hair on the back of my neck rising, tremors rippling through me. Through everything, I’ve tried to maintain my composure, give the impression of the intrepid Medusa he turned me into.
Now I fear this is the scene where Perseus sacrifices her.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“You know the answer to that.”
I briefly close my eyes in resignation, then return them to his. “I do,” I say calmly.
He probably expected me to put up a fight or beg for my life. But after years of analyzing every single one of our interactions, I’ve come to the conclusion that the best way to outsmart Nick is to not play into his hand. To change the rules. To act out of character.
“So get on with it then.”
I catch Julia’s stare out of the corner of my eye, giving her a look I hope she can understand. I need her to understand, to read my mind. It’s the only way we’ll both walk out of this alive.
“You’re not going to fight?”
“What’s the use? You have me tied up. I can’t fight you. You win. So go on.” I tilt my head back, presenting my neck to him. “Do it.”
On a long exhale, he runs the blade along my skin, a chill trickling through me. I’ve never really thought about how I would die, but I never could have imagined it would be like this, a blade cutting my throat until I bleed out.
“Such a pity, really. To ruin such a beautiful neck. It’s like destroying a priceless piece of art. But it’s sometimes necessary. For the greater good.”