Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I hate her.
It’s a strange feeling. I can’t remember truly hating anyone, except maybe a politician or two, since I became an adult.
And this isn’t a sulky, childish hatred.
It’s deep, primal, cellular. I want her to suffer for what she’s done to me.
I want her to be in pain. I want her to beg for mercy.
I want her to regret everything she’s done, every petty cruelty.
I’m walking along the road with my pack, but I feel too exposed, so when I see the trailhead, I take it.
I’m soon under the canopy of trees, walking through the dark forest. I feel a rush of energy.
This is it. It’s over. I pick up my pace.
I’m reminded of how I felt when I finished my exams at school—that same lightness, that freedom.
“Can I walk with you?”
I yell in surprise, jumping off the trail, as if I’d seen a wolf coming towards me. But it isn’t a wolf.
It’s much worse. It’s Grace.
I shine my torch into her eyes, and she blinks and blocks the light with her hand.
“Go away!” I think of the knife in my pack. Can I get it out in time?
“I’m unarmed. I promise. That was just a test,” Grace says. “I wanted to see how you’d react. Can you lower that? I just want to talk.”
I stay frozen, thinking of how I can get away. I could sprint into the woods, but I’d probably break my neck. I could tackle her, but that somehow seems ridiculous now that she’s standing in front of me, frail and quiet.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m leaving. Bradley’s leaving.”
“Goodness me, you are innocent, aren’t you?” She looks at me in wonder. “What must it be like to see the world through your eyes? It must be unicorns and rainbows.”
“You’re a—” I search for the right word. “You’re a monster. You want to punish me.”
She angles her head. “Why would I ever want to punish you?”
I search for a reply, but decide to ignore her. I don’t need to play her games. I set off walking again, lengthening my stride so she’ll have trouble keeping up.
“Come on, Brie.” She half-jogs behind me. “I need to explain myself.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“It’s time we put our cards on the table. I know you’re sleeping with my husband. I know you know about my little affair, too. Not that I tried to hide it.”
“What affair?”
“It’s written all over your face every time I see you together. Bradley seduced you, and you fell for it.”
If Grace has proof of the affair, he’ll end up with nothing. Is that why she’s here? Is she trying to coax a confession out of me? Maybe she has a recorder in her pocket.
“You’re crazy.”
“Don’t change the subject. I know Bradley.
He has a voracious appetite, and I’m not sure it’s ever been limited to just one person.
God knows he’s run through that English department of his.
You know that’s the reason he didn’t get tenure?
It’s not a scandal, exactly. It was always consensual.
He just left a trail of broken hearts.” Her breathing is heavy, but she keeps talking.
“We still make love, you know, even though he’s a cheat.
Even though we’re both cheats. We’ve made love since you’ve been here, too. It’s a game to us.”
She’s a storyteller, I say to myself. And what else is a storyteller but a professional liar?
“Can you just leave me alone?”
“Not until I tell you the truth. It wouldn’t be right.”
I almost laugh to hear this woman talking about right and wrong. Since when has she ever done the right thing by me? She’s treated me like an animal. Worse than an animal. I can hear the waterfall nearby. If I were courageous, I would run away from this woman and never look back.
“What truth?”
“Like I said. It’s a game. This has all been a game. We didn’t bring you here to weed the damn garden. I’ve been stuck, truly stuck, for years. I needed inspiration. I needed a muse.”
There’s that word, the word that Jesse used. He was trying to warn me.
“So all that shit you’ve put me through is just a game? You just pulled a gun on me.”
“That was my last move. I just had to confirm something about how you would react. And it's worked! But now, the game is over, and you have to leave. I see that you’ve fallen for Bradley. You need to know that he's just a boy with appetites who never left college.”
“You’re just saying that because he’s divorcing you,” I say spitefully. I feel the urge to make this woman suffer for what she’s done to me. “And he’s taking your money, too.”
“Impossible. If we get divorced, he gets nothing. When we got married, my family insisted on a prenup. It’s watertight, you know.
Any divorce, any reason, and he gets nothing.
My mother insisted. She wanted me to marry someone like my father, someone from the business world, someone practical.
She wasn’t happy when I settled on Bradley. ”
Watertight? That’s not what Bradley said. When was the last time Grace looked at the details? Bradley’s lawyer presumably knows more than Grace.
“I was just a kid back then,” she continues.
“I was young. Not so strong. I was like you, I think. I know that sounds strange. You sometimes look at me like I’m an alien species, but all I’ve done is claim my place in the world.
I decided to stop compromising all the time. I’m myself. Unique. You could be too.”
“I don’t want to be anything like you.”
“You might not have a choice. The world will shape you. But you’re missing the point. Bradley will never leave me.”
“You’re a liar!” I want to sound assertive, but my voice breaks.
I was angry before, but now all I feel is fear.
She’s trying to trick me, hurt me, every sentence another arrow from the parapet, and it’s working.
“You locked me up. You used my face for target practice. You were even writing a book about it.”
“Do you want me to apologize? You’re fucking my husband under my nose. It’s not like you’re an innocent little girl.”
“What about Caroline? What did you do to her? Did you kill her?”
“How do you know about her? Ah, the basement. Of course. Well, Caroline is you, in a way. Five years ago. She helped me write my first novel. She still helps me, in her way.”
“Where is she? Why can’t I find any evidence she exists?”
“She changed her name, dummy. She’s perfectly fine. Perfectly alive. Look.” She reaches into the pocket of her cardigan and pulls out, of all things, a cellphone. Christ, even that was bullshit. She types for a second and holds up the screen. “Look. There she is. Caroline Marcus.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Just games, Brie. Serious games.” I feel a jolt of adrenaline, a clear signal from my body: Run.
“Look, I’m not a stable person. I’m not normal.
That’s partly why I live out here. I don’t medicate away my rough edges like everyone in the suburbs.
Because why does everything need to be neutered?
Why can’t we leave something dangerous in our safe, pathetic world? ”
We emerge from the woods, and the world is bright again. The fires are close. We shouldn’t be here. Ahead, I can see the bridge overlooking the waterfall. My hands are shaking. I need to get away, but I can’t.
Bradley, please don’t be late.
“It’s all a play. None of this is real. I don’t hate you. I just wanted to see what happened, that’s all. I wanted to see how a real human would react.”
“But what about Bradley?”
“He plays along. It excites him. We’re not a normal couple. We’re not looking for a white picket fence and three kids. That’s death to us.”
“I don’t believe you! You’re a sociopath.”
“I’d never really hurt you. And I’ll make it worth your while. Like we did with Caroline. Come back with me. It’s all over now. We’ll let you drive away with a check.”
“No!”
Her eyes grow wild. I can tell it’s taking everything for her to keep this calm facade. I wonder if she’s seething inside, given what she knows about me and Bradley.
“Come!”
It’s another fantasy, another story she’s writing, and she really believes it. What if the story changes, and I’m the villain again? What if she decides that everything is my fault?
“Bradley’s not the one who locked me away. He didn’t poison me. He didn’t use my photo for target practice.”
We’re on the bridge. There’s a wild look in her eyes.
The smoke burns in my chest and makes my eyes water.
The fire must be coming this way. Bradley, where are you?
I can barely hear her above the roar of the wind and the river.
I step backwards and cry out as I lose my footing on a loose plank. I land on my side.
When I look up, Grace is looming over me. She’s holding out her hand, but I don’t take it. I have to be ready to fight back.
Behind us, the waterwall. Below, the rocks.
“You need to trust me.”
Above, the sky itself is on fire.
“Get away from me!”
“You have to understand. It’s not real, Brie!”
I scramble backwards, frantically unzipping my pack.
“What do you think was going to happen?” she yells. I search desperately for Mom’s knife. Where is it? “Do you think he’ll marry you? Do you think he’ll ever be faithful? Don’t be such a stupid little girl!”
I wrap my fingers around the knife and take it from the pack.
Her eyes widen when she sees it, but she doesn’t move away.
She’s looming over me. As I stand, she lunges towards me, faster than I expected.
I lash out and slice her across the shoulder, before my grip loosens, and the knife falls over the edge.
I cry out in anguish—but then I see Bradley on the other side of the bridge. He’s holding a bright white rock, a little smaller than a basketball.
“Don’t be naive, Brie!” she yells out, still holding me.
I pull free. Bradley is closer now, only a few feet away. I want to say something, but I feel like I’m watching a movie and there’s nothing I can do to change what’s about to happen. What has to happen. What always had to happen.
“He’s a monster! He’s a—”
She doesn’t get to finish her sentence. Because while she speaks, Bradley raises the rock and slams it against the side of her head, and she falls over the fence, down onto the rocks below.
And I can hear nothing, not the roar of the water or the wind or the words coming from Bradley, nothing but screaming.
But it’s not her. She’s quiet now.
It’s me.