Chapter 11
MAE
FUCK YOU!
The two words, born with thick charcoal across the white page, stoke the fire of frustration and threaten to influence my collection. The more I draw, the more my mind is given the freedom to wander into dangerous territory. Before I know it, I have pages torn from the sketch pad, placed haphazardly around me, sequencing ideas, patterns, and fine-detailed vignettes I need to add to my paintings on my return.
Abandoning the sketch pad and tray of charcoal on the floor, I run the shower in hopes the heat will calm my mind.
It doesn’t.
When I close my eyes, all I see is Damon. His handsome face. The seductive pull of his smile that’s only ever replaced by deep consideration or rage. When the water rolls over my lips, all I feel is his passionate kiss and urgent need for me that never wavers.
Then I feel the crushing weight of his betrayal on my heart and the shame of having so easily fallen for him—an effortless conquest for a man who had a target on my back.
Wiping the mirror, I see a wretched face staring back. Her eyes are the reflection of sorrow, and she wears well the pitiful face of failure. Since I don’t recognize the woman, I don’t know how to save her, and that terrifies me.
When I leave the bathroom in search of the robe, the bedroom doors swing open, and Jason invites himself in. He doesn’t look away when I scramble to wrap the towel around my body.
“You could knock!”
“And let my brother have all the fun?”
Dread claws up my spine, and I step back as he nears. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Would you like it to be?”
“No. You should leave.”
He considers me a long, disdainful moment. “It would pay you to remember the predicament you currently find yourself in.” My frightened silence causes his sneer. “That’s what I thought.” He tosses my cell on the bed. “Check in with him.”
And say what?
Witnessing my apprehension, Jason offers conversation starters. “Tell him you’re feeling better and you’re working on ideas for your collection.” He passes a cursory glance over the drawings on the floor. “Tell him this was exactly what you needed and thank him for his patience.”
Thank him for his patience?
“Jason, I don’t think you quite get it.” The resistance is enough to make those dark irises of his become black voids of hate. “Have you even spoken to Damon in the last twenty-four hours? Because if you had—”
“ Make . The. Call.”
There will be no compromise and no seeing the situation for what it really is—futile, counter-productive, and dangerous.
Snatching the phone, I unlock the screen, make the call, and put it on speaker. It only rings twice before he answers.
“Well, look who it is,” Peter sneers as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.
Hearing his voice again sends me spiraling, the way it’s always done. It takes me a second too long to find my courage, and he joyously feeds off it. “Come on, Mae, now’s not the time to go all shy on me. Or did you just call to hear my voice?”
Bastard.
In my peripheral, Jason shifts, and it serves as a warning.
Clearing my throat, I force myself into action because while the small talk might bide the time I don’t have, it comes from a place bordering on a panic attack. “How are you, Peter?”
“How do you think I am? I’ve been missing my wife.” I can almost hear his malevolent smile in his long pause. “ Where are you hiding, honey?”
With the trackers now dead, he knows I know.
“I told you where.”
“Allyson’s beach house, right?”
“Yes.”
“Mm. Perhaps you should send me the address. After all…” the grin in his tone sends a shiver racing up my spine, “… I’d hate for something to happen to you.”
I make the mistake of looking up at Jason. “Actually, um… I’m almost ready to come home and finish my collection.”
Peter’s contemptuous laugh fills the room, triggering a host of volatile memories. “I don’t think you quite heard me. I don’t give a fuck about your collection, Mae. I asked you for the address of your best friend’s beach house .”
“Peter, just—”
He tuts a string of disapprovals, and each one feels bone-deep. “Mae.” It’s how he says my name, the way I remember it being whispered right before he took it upon himself to destroy the last ember of hope I held tight. “I know what you’ve done.”
Shaking my head, a tear drips onto my leg. “I haven’t done anything.”
“I gave you a chance, honey, and you know that’s more than you deserve.”
“Peter—”
“Since we’re done here…” he says with finality, “… my brother would like a private word.”
Blood drains from my face in such a rush the room spins around me. “No, Peter… please —” But it’s too late because Dr. Carlson Cooper has been listening, always bearing witness to my demise. Although he isn’t within reach, nothing can prepare me for the destruction his voice will bring. Velvety intonations are spoken like a lover to his muse, or in his case, with the lure of a serial killer.
“Hello, darling.”
Clutching the bed, I stand and step back toward the wall, needing to put as much distance between me and the danger closing in. Even with Jason closely observing, it takes a palpable moment to get the words off my tongue. “What do you want?”
Carlson makes a sound of deep contemplation. “There’s only one thing in particular.”
A hand seizes my throat, but it’s a mere memory that just won’t relinquish its cruel hold over me.
“As you can understand, Mae, Peter and I are simply concerned for your well-being.”
Liar!
“Don’t be. I’m fine.”
His sigh is merely performative, as if I’m a little girl who needs chiding. “Let’s be honest with one another, you don’t sound fine.”
This is a man who studies me as if I’m his prized science experiment, who knows just what to say and how to say it in order to garner various responses from me. He will know, in this very moment, that my entire body shakes beyond control.
“Tell me something, darling…” Carlson continues, his voice lowering to a secretive murmur, “Are you with anyone?”
Besides me, Jason quietly tsk-tsks in warning.
“No.”
“Then why don’t you tell me where you are, and I’ll come collect you myself? We don’t have to rush back. I’m sure Peter will feel more comfortable with you gone if I’m there with you.”
With each excruciating thud of my heart, I find myself disoriented in a weakened attempt to flee. I’m midstep when a hand circles my arm, halting me in place.
Jason’s mouth brushes my ear, his teeth barred. “ Get your shit together.” I’m shoved back onto the bed in front of the phone, and when I blink, two tears traverse down the length of my nose before slashing onto the screen.
“I don’t need you,” I plead.
“Darling, you know that’s not how this works.”
He’s right. I know exactly how my brother-in-law expects this nightmare to play out. “ Please , I just need to be left alone.”
Palpable silence fills the room, but sure enough, Carlson’s exhale is one of disappointment and promise. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Mae.”
Then the call ends.
Eyes burning with fresh tears, I realize how lost I am in a world of ferocious wolves while another resumes his hunt. I’m weary of these unstable men, and I know for certain I won’t survive another round.
Jason reaches for my phone and pockets it for safekeeping so the outside world remains just that.
There’s no protest. He can have it. Anything to stop him from finding me again.
Warm breath irritates my cheek. “You couldn’t have fucked that up more if you tried.”
Anger replaces fear, and I find myself swiping the tears off my cheeks when I turn to face him. “You have no idea what you’ve just done or what you set in motion.”
He points an accusatory finger, jabbing it at my chest while closing in on me. “Whatever the fucking reason was behind that fine performance, is none of my concern. What is my concern is you being in my fucking life and doing everything you can to fuck up what I’ve worked hard for.”
Rage propels me forward until we’re just shy of touching. “You think I want to be a part of this bullshit scam you’re orchestrating? You seem to be conveniently forgetting that I’m here because of you.”
Judging by his expression, Jason sees me as someone he’d prefer to dispose of in a shallow grave where the coyotes can fight over my corpse. “ No . You’re here because Damon made the wrong choice in you and now it’s fallen upon my shoulders to clean up the masterful mess you’re making.”
If I wasn’t so damn shaken still, I’d laugh in his face. “You know, I’m truly astonished you aren’t more observant, Jason because you seem like a meticulous kind of guy. Yet somehow, you’ve missed all the red flags.”
“Brave words considering less than a minute ago you looked like someone witnessing their own slow death.”
“Because I know what evil looks like. When you’ve stared it in the face like I have, you learn to separate the true psychopaths from those who are merely playing. And I know which of the two I’m staring at right now.”
He weighs my words, debating whether the contract getting signed is reliant on me staying alive.
“You and Damon fucked up…” I continue in my last bid for freedom, “… and the sooner you admit it, the sooner you can change course in finding the right person for the job. Because I’m done doing your dirty work, Jason. And I’m done with putting myself in harm’s way.”
“You sure about that?” He forces me back until my legs press against the bed. “Because I’m not yet done with you . And with the right incentives, you might actually make an effort and get creative with your approach.”
He wouldn’t…
“You’re wasting your time.”
“And time is not on your side, Mae . You should know Peter better than anyone, yet here you are, doing everything within your power to derail his commitment. So, perhaps my brother isn’t being persuasive enough.”
Death no longer scares me. Jason’s alternative does. “Go ahead,” I dare, although I’m certain my pounding chest deceives me. “But you know as well as I that if you lay even a finger on me, you’ll have Damon to answer to.”
He cocks a brow in challenge. “Is that right?”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
He doesn’t, and I’m left to count the seconds before he becomes totally unhinged because I have no idea what’s going on inside the maniac’s head.
Mess-free kills.
Where to dump a dead body.
How to fuck someone up in under thirty seconds.
Instead, he goes down the track I least expect, a smile that could strike fear in indifference spreads across his face. “He must have really shown you a good time.”
“You’d know. You filmed it.”
Jason considers me with contempt I feel right to my core. “And the sooner you convince your fuckwit of a husband to sign, your release will follow suit.”
“I’m not a ‘prisoner,’ remember ?”
“Those are Damon’s words, not mine. And since he isn’t here right now, you play by my rules.”
“No.” I shake my head. “For reasons you’re incapable of understanding, I play by his.”
Jason’s hand snakes through my hair, jerking my face closer until our lips almost graze. He’d be an utter fool to take it further. “You’re a silly girl who proves just how weak she is by pledging allegiance to someone holding her against her will.”
“ Like I said, one must have a heart to comprehend the magnitude of it.”
“You’re stupidly brave.”
“And I’ve done what you asked.”
His gaze drops to my cleavage. “Not everything.” The lewd suggestion leaves me burning with humiliation. “And I won’t be asking.”
Jason takes a step back, and I do what I can to strengthen my hold on the towel in the event he feels inclined to make good on his promise. “I know you don’t want me here, so I’m more than happy to go home where I have a better chance of convincing Peter. I don’t have to stay somewhere I’m clearly not wanted.”
“And yet you stay in your marriage.”
It’s a cruel, insidious thing to say, and while I reel in the aftermath of it, he’s already backing toward the door. His hardened stare remains locked on mine until he reaches the scattered sketch pages on the floor. He pauses because one of them has caught his attention. Smirking, he picks it up, admiring it for a moment longer before flicking the thick card through the air.
“I like this one best.”
It lands at my feet, the big, bold letters staring up at me.
FUCK YOU!