Chapter 35
Madi
Caring for Emily and the twins after a long, Paul-induced stressful day drained me in a way working twenty-four-hour rotations in the Navy never had. The only thing that kept me going was my love for my family.
I should have accepted Matt’s offer to stay and help. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. While I’d recognized his contribution the night before and appreciated his help—he’d been so quiet, stealthy—I’d failed to comprehend just how much I needed him.
Emily was getting stronger, but hadn’t healed enough to hold the twins without help and it tore her to pieces.
As if they hadn’t suffered enough, Emily felt like a failure and needed constant reassurance from Jamie that she hadn’t disappointed him. Fucking Asshat Craig. Despite all her healing, the abuse he’d subjected her to still affected her.
People filled Jamie’s house until eleven, so I didn’t notice Matt’s absence until now.
Now, it’s just me. And the colicky babies always needed something.
I tapped my phone to see the time. One-twenty-six.
As I dragged my feet to the babies’ room, I chastised myself again for refusing Matt’s offer.
“Another set of hands would be useful right about now.” Stupid stubborn streak.
Emily was sitting on the hall bathroom floor crying, so I sent Jamie to comfort her.
“I’ll take care of the twins.” The spawns of Satan who were screaming bloody murder in their cribs.
My head throbbed, and my eyelids were more sandpaper than flesh as they slid over my eyes.
“Shhh, Aunt Madi’s here.” I didn’t really think they were evil, but as they tried to wake the dead, it was hard to remember how much I loved them.
Rose was closer, so I picked her up first, rocking her as she sucked on my finger. If I could get them to stop crying, it’d be a lot easier to feed them.
“I’ll grab Richard,” Jamie whispered behind me.
“Is Em okay?”
“She will be. I put her to bed and shut the door to dim the noise,” he said, picking up his son. “Is it always like this?”
“No, it’ll get better.”
“The sooner the better.”
“I’ll go start the formula.”
Emily wanted to breastfeed, but couldn’t until the antibiotics were out of her system. A reality that wasn’t helping her state of mind.
Cradling a now quiet Rose in one arm, I opened the fridge.
Fuck! We were out of distilled water.
I’d have to run to the twenty-four-hour grocery store on the edge of town.
“Jamie, can you take Rose? We’re out of water.”
“Damn it. I thought we had enough to last until morning.” Jamie, looking as tired as I felt, shifted his son to one arm so he could hold his daughter in the other.
“I’ll be right back.”
I shoved my phone into the side pocket of my leggings and shimmied my feet into my work shoes. Thank God no one will see me.
My messy bun sat high on my head, and baby spit-up decorated my faded Navy T-shirt.
At the store, I parked O.P., hopped out and clicked the lock button as I jogged to the entrance, barely pausing long enough for the automatic door to open.
Exhausted beyond comprehension and singularly focused on stocking up on distilled water, I didn’t notice anyone or anything around me.
I tapped my phone to the card reader to pay for the water and then jogged across the parking lot, cursing the broken wheel that made it hard to push the rickety grocery cart.
“Sorry.” I apologized in advance for not returning the cart, but I was a woman on a mission.
I’d just unlocked the doors when the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
In the next instant, something hard connected with my head, and white-hot pain blasted through my skull.
I should’ve called Matt, was my last thought before the world faded to black.
The first thing I noticed as I regained consciousness was my pounding head. The second was that I was sitting up and my arms were tied behind me.
What the hell is going on?
My sleep-deprived brain couldn’t make sense of the dark room or the ropes around my wrists and ankles.
Pale moonlight coming through dirty windows provided the only light in the large, empty room. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the low light, trying to get my bearings.
“Hello?” I croaked out. Dust coated my throat, making it as dry as my eyes.
“Oh goody. You’re awake.”
I recognize the feminine voice, but couldn’t assign a name to it. It didn’t matter; her depraved glee made my blood run cold.
“Where am I? Why am I here?”
She kept to the shadows as she paced in a small circle.
“For payback.”
Payback? For what?
Just as I opened my mouth to ask who she was, she stepped into the light.
“Pamela?”
Why had Paul’s sister tied me up in what appeared to be an abandoned building?
“So you do recognize me.” Pamela stepped closer.
“Is Paul here?”
I craned my neck trying to see, but the mostly dark room made it difficult.
“No.” She stalked closer, the knife in her hand reflecting the moonbeams as she swung her arm recklessly.
“Does he know you’re doing this?”
“No, you silly goose. It’s a surprise.”
I’d known something was off with Pamela when I met her at the office, but I had no clue just how batshit crazy she was.
If Paul didn’t know, was it possible Pamela was responsible for the fires?
And why? It wasn’t like I was mean to him. Sure, I turned down his advances, but I was polite about it.
“Maybe you should call him so he can be here for…” my voice faltered. I had no idea what she had planned for me. Though I guessed it would be painful.
“Oh, no. I can’t do that. Paul is a good guy. Too good for you, if you ask me.” She pointed the knife at me. “Bitches like you are always taking advantage of him, hurting him.”
Hoping the adrenaline pumping through my system would boost my strength, I tested the ropes again. The rough threads scratched my wrists, but didn’t budge.
“You’re going to pay for hurting him.”
“Are you sure Paul wants this?” I had a feeling the only way I’d reach her was through her psychotic sense of loyalty to her brother.
“Of course he wants this. Everyone wants revenge, even if they won’t admit it.”
My overtired brain wanted to argue that I hadn’t done anything, but couldn’t think of an effective way to reach her.
Pamela had closed the distance and now hovered over me. The dim moonlight created deep shadows on her face, making her look even more sinister.
“I don’t know what he sees in you.” She walked around the chair, tapping the flat edge of the knife on my sore head.
When Pamela stood in front of me again, she bent over, leaning close to my face.
“You. Don’t. Deserve. Him.”
Her nasty breath was the least of my problems as she accented each word by poking the tip of the large kitchen knife just below my collarbone.
Each jab cut a little deeper, making me wince.
“You gonna cry like a little girl!” She spat out before pulling away.
I gave up trying to use reason and resorted to sarcasm.
“Let me poke you with a knife and see if you react any differently.”
She laughed. “Nah, I think I’ll just make you cry some more.”
I cried out when she sliced the knife across my right thigh, splitting open my leggings. Blood oozed out and soaked the material. A few drops dripped onto the dirty floor. The cut wasn’t life threatening, but it hurt like hell.
How long until Jamie realizes something’s wrong? I prayed he wasn’t too preoccupied with caring for the twins and would notice sooner rather than later.
Seeing the glee in Pamela’s eyes and her dance of joy, I vowed not to cry out again.
Desperate, I tried reasoning with her again.
I earned another slice across my right thigh for my efforts. This time, the blood flowed faster, creating a small pool on the floor near my foot.
“What, no scream?”
I hoped she’d lose interest in flaying me open if she didn’t get the satisfaction of hearing me cry out.
She walked around the chair again, this time dragging the tip of the knife along my neck, applying just enough pressure to scratch the skin.
Once she was in front of me again, she said, “Paul thinks you’re pretty.” She tapped the knife tip on her cheek. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
Pretty fucking crazy.
But that answer would get me into all sorts of painful trouble.
“You’re very pretty. Prettier than me.”
The knife flashed in the moonlight before searing pain spread across my cheek.
I clenched my teeth, but it wasn’t enough to muffle my groaned scream, which made her happy.
“Now you’re not so pretty.”
Not anymore. I wasn’t vain, but I’d always had a healthy dose of self-confidence. It helped that men frequently complimented my looks.
And Matt stared at me like I was the only woman in the world.
Matt. Why did I tell him to leave?
If I hadn’t been so determined to prove I my independence, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I could’ve asked him to go to the store.
No, he would’ve volunteered. That’s who he is.
Oh my God. The water. The twins must be starving.
Had Jamie realized I was missing yet? Or had he lost track of time juggling two colicky, hungry newborns and a sick wife?