20. Josie
I stepped out, my bare feet silent on the cold floor, but the ringing in my ears was so loud it felt like a scream. I whipped the gun to the left, then to the right, my finger trembling against the trigger.
I was hyper-ventilating. My chest heaved, and every breath felt like I was swallowing needles. I was naked, exposed, and the cool air felt like ice against my skin.
I saw a tall, narrow table against the wall.
Draped over it was a heavy, velvet runner, a deep, blood-red cloth with gold tassels at the ends.
I grabbed it, my hands fumbling and clumsy.
I didn't care what it was. I wrapped it around my body, tucking the end into the crook of my arm to keep it from falling.
I moved toward the stairs. My ankle screamed in pain with every step but I pushed through it. I had to get out. I had to get to the police. I had to tell them what the monster had done.
I reached the top of the grand staircase. The house was too quiet. I started down, one slow step at a time, keeping my back against the wall. I pointed the gun at every dark corner, every closed door, every statue that looked too much like a person.
"I’ll kill him," I hissed into the dark, tears blurring my vision again. "If he come near me, I’ll blow his head off."
I reached the bottom floor and stumbled into the spacious living room. The moon shone through the massive windows, casting long, silver bars across the rug. I spun in a circle, the red velvet cloth fluttering around my legs.
I pointed the gun at the sofa. Nothing.
I pointed it at the heavy curtains. Nothing.
I pointed it at the dark hallway leading to the kitchen.
I was terrified. My heart was a drum beating against my ribs, so fast I thought it might burst. I was angry, so angry that my jaw ached from clenching my teeth.
I backed toward the front door, my eyes darting everywhere. I could see the heavy gold handles of the exit. Just a few more feet. Just a few more steps and I would be in the grass, in the wind, away from this nightmare.
Suddenly, the sound of a soft footstep clicked on the marble floor behind me.
I spun around, my finger tightening on the trigger, the barrel of the gun leveled straight at the chest of whoever was there.
Aisling walked into the living room.
She stopped dead, her eyes going wide as she looked at the gun, then at my tear-stained face, then at the blood-red cloth wrapped around my shivering body.
Aisling didn’t make a single move. She didn't scream or run or called for.
.. him. She just stood there with her hands at her sides, looking at me.
She looked at the gun, then at my swollen ankle that was still in the iron cuff but with a broken chain and then back up to my eyes.
Her face was as cold as a stone at the bottom of a lake.
"Well," Aisling said, her voice flat, "How did you get out of your room? Alex told me he locked the door."
Her voice was so calm it made my blood boil. It was like she was asking me about the weather instead of looking at a woman holding a weapon. The rage inside me exploded, hot and thick.
"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed, the sound tearing through the quiet room. The gun shook in my hands, but I kept it pointed right at her heart. "Shut up and listen to me! I am leaving this house right now. You are going to help me, or I will shoot you, you bitch! I’ll do it! I swear to God I’ll do it! "
Aisling just tilted her head. She didn't look scared. She didn't even look interested. She looked at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum.
"You aren't going to shoot anyone," she said. She took a slow step forward, her heels clicking softly on the marble. "You don't have the stomach for it."
"Stop! Stay back!" I yelled, stepping away from her. My back hit the edge of a heavy table. "I’m not playing! Open that front door! Get me out of here! Now!"
Aisling stopped, but she didn't move toward the door. She just shrugged her shoulders, a tiny, hateful movement, "No. I'm not going to do that. Alex would be very cross with me if I let his favorite toy run away into the night."
"I am his sister!" I wailed, the words coming out like a sob, "He raped me! He’s a monster and you’re helping him! Help me get out! As a woman! Please!"
"You're not his sister, you idiot. You don't even know who you are," Aisling said.
She reached up and tucked a stray strand of her dark hair behind her ear.
She looked totally unaffected by my tears or the gun, "And I don't care what he does to you in the dark, you deserve every bit of it.
My job is to keep you here. So, be a good girl and go back upstairs before he comes back home or he'll punish you. "
I snapped. My finger felt heavy on the trigger. She wasn't taking me seriously. She thought I was weak. She thought I was nothing.
"I will shoot you!" I screamed again, my voice reaching a high, broken peak, "I'll kill you right here!"
Aisling actually laughed. It was a short, dry sound that cut through me, "With what? That? You probably don't even know how to—"
BANG.
The sound of the gunshot shook the entire room.
The gun kicked back into my wrist, the sting was hot.
The bullet whistled past the right side of Aisling's head, so close it made her long hair fly upward as if a sudden wind had hit it.
The mirror on the wall behind her shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, the sound of breaking glass raining down onto the floor like a waterfall.
Aisling froze. Her eyes went wide, the pupils shrinking into tiny black dots. The color drained from her face. She didn't move a muscle. She didn't even breathe. A single strand of her hair, cut by the passing bullet, floated slowly down to the floor.
"The next one goes between your eyes," I hissed. The shaking in my hands had stopped. I felt cold. I felt dangerous. I stepped toward her, the red velvet trailing behind me, "Do you believe me now? Do you think I'm playing?"
Aisling swallowed hard. I could see the pulse jumping in her neck. For the first time, she wasn't looking through me. She was looking at the barrel of the gun, and she was looking at the death waiting inside it.
"The door," I ordered, my voice flat, "Open it. Now. Or you won't live to see the morning."
"I can’t," she whispered, "The door... it’s locked from the outside. It’s a high-security system, Josephine. It won’t open until Alex gets back. He has the only master code. I’m stuck here just like you."
"Bullshit!" I roared, "You’re lying. You work for him, you live here, and you’re telling me you can’t get out? You think I’m stupid? You both are in this together!"
I stepped closer, and leveled the gun right at the center of her forehead. My arm didn't shake. I felt like I was made of stone.
"Take off the dress," I snapped, my voice didn't even sound as my own.
Aisling blinked, her mouth falling open. "What? Josephine, stop this. You’re losing your mind."
"I said take it off!" I screamed. My face felt hot, the rage bubbling up again. "Take it off and throw it to me. Now!"
"I am not standing here naked in the middle of the hall," she snapped, "Don't be ridiculous. I won't do it."
I didn't reply with words, I simply tilted the gun slightly to the left and pulled the trigger.
BANG.
The bullet tore through the expensive leather sofa next to her, sending a cloud of white stuffing exploding into the air like a burst of snow. Aisling screamed, her hands flying up to cover her ears as she ducked down.
"Don't push me, I swear to God, I will shoot you," I hissed, "And then I’ll let you bleed out on this pretty white rug. Take. It. Off."
With shaking fingers, Aisling reached for the zipper at the back of her blue dress. She stepped out of the fabric, and stood there in her underwear, looking small and weak, shielding her body with her arms. She bundled the blue dress into a ball and threw it toward me.
It landed at my feet. I didn't take my eyes off her.
I kept the gun pointed at her chest as I reached down with one hand, grabbing the dress.
I shook it out and pulled it over my head, letting the red velvet runner fall to the floor in a heap.
The dress fit me well enough, I felt good to wear something after days.
"Now," I said, my heart pounding, "The phone. Give me your phone."
Aisling hesitated. She looked toward the small table where her purse was sitting, "I... I can't. Alex will kill you. You need to stop this and get back to your room."
"Alex isn't the one with a gun in your face right now!" I screamed, the sound echoing off the high ceiling. I took a step toward her, the barrel of the gun glinting in the moonlight, "Give me the phone or I will end you right here! I have nothing left to lose, Aisling! Nothing!"
She flinched as if I had hit her. She scrambled toward her purse, her bare feet slipping on the marble. She reached inside and pulled out a slim phone. Her hand was shaking so hard she almost dropped it.
"Unlock it," I barked, "And bring it here. Slowly."
She tapped the screen with a trembling thumb and walked toward me, her eyes filled with rage. She held the phone out at arm's length. I snatched it from her hand.
"Back up," I ordered. "Get back against the wall. If you move, if you even breathe too loud, I’ll finish what I started."
I looked down at the screen. The signal was strong. I had a gun, I had clothes, and I had a way to call for help. I looked at the heavy front door, then back at Aisling, who was huddled against the wall.
My thumb hovered over the screen. My skin felt hot and cold at the same time.
I didn't call the police. I didn't call the emergency line.
I dialed the only number that meant safety.
I dialed the woman who had taught me how to shoot, the woman who had always tried to shield me from people like him but I didn't listen to her.
I pressed the phone to my ear, tucking it between my shoulder and my face so I could keep the gun leveled at Aisling. I walked toward the massive front doors. I grabbed the heavy gold handles and pulled.
Nothing.
I braced my feet and yanked with everything I had. The doors didn't even wiggle. They felt like they were part of the stone wall. I hammered my fist against the wood.
"It’s useless," Aisling snapped from the wall. She was hugging herself, "I told you. It’s an electronic lock. You can’t pull it open. It won’t move until he gets back and puts his thumb on the scanner."
"Shut up!" I screamed at her, spinning around and pointing the gun back at her head. "Shut your mouth! Don't say another word!"
The phone began to ring.
My heart was a trapped bird fluttering in my throat. I looked at the dark windows, the locked doors, the broken glass. I felt like I was drowning in this house.
Then, there was a click.
"Hello?"
It was my mother.
The moment I heard her, the wall I had built around my heart just crumbled. All the courage vanished, and I was just a little girl lost in the woods.
"Mommy," I wailed. The word came out as a broken, high-pitched cry. "Mommy, please. Help me."
On the other end of the line, I could hear her breath catch. Then, her voice came back, and it was different.
"Josephine?" she whispered, "Baby? Where are you? Tell me right now."
"I’m trapped," I sobbed, the tears pouring down my face and dripping onto the blue silk of the dress. "He... he locked me up. He put a chain on me, Mom. He kept me in a dark room. He... he did things to me. Horrible things."
I couldn't say his name. I couldn't say the word brother. It felt like if I said it, the world would actually end.
"He touched me," I choked out, my body shaking so hard the phone clattered against my ear, "I'm in a house... I don't know where I am. The doors are locked. I have a gun, but I can't get out. Please, Mommy, he's coming back. He's coming back for me."
"Listen to me, Josephine," my mother said, "I am going to find you. Do you hear me? I am going to burn the world down until I find the house you are in."
I could hear things moving in the background, the metallic clink of keys, the slamming of a drawer.
"Who is with you?" she demanded, "Is he there? Is he hurting you right now?"
"No," I gasped, looking at Aisling, who was staring at me with a smile, "Just a woman. She works for him. She won't let me out."
"You keep that gun in your hand, Josephine," my mother hissed.
The rage in her voice was so thick I could almost feel it through the phone, "If anyone tries to touch you, you use it. You hear me? You pull that trigger. I’ll handle the legal shit later.
I am calling everyone I know. I will find out where his properties are.
I will find you in an hour, or I will die trying. "
"Mom, please," I sobbed, the tears making it hard to see. "Just hurry. I can’t... I can’t be here anymore. I’m so scared."
"Hold on, baby," she said, "Tristan Kincaid has no idea who he just messed with. I'm going to end him."
My heart stopped. My brow furrowed, and a cold sweat broke out on my neck. "Tristan? Mom, no, he’s—"
Before I could finish the sentence, a hand moved like a flash of lightning. The phone was ripped out of my grip.
I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. Alexander stood there. He didn't look angry. He didn't look rushed. He looked perfectly calm, like he had just come home from a normal day at the office. He looked at the phone screen for a second and then tapped it, ending the call with a soft click.
"You really shouldn't have done that, Josephine," he said as he tucked the phone into his pocket and stepped toward me.
I scrambled back, my bare feet slipping on the marble, but he didn't chase me. He just watched me.
"I already spoke to Helena," he said, "I called her right after I left your room. I explained everything. I told her exactly what I’ve done with you, and I made it very clear: if she doesn't do exactly what I say, if she tries to play any of her old games, you aren't coming home. Not in one piece, anyway."
The blood drained from my face. He had already talked to my mother? He had threatened her with my life?
The fear in my gut turned into something else. My vision went red. The disgust, the shame, and the memory of his hands on me all crashed together into a wave of pure hate.
I didn't think. I acted.
I raised the gun, holding it with both hands. I pointed it straight at the center of his chest. My finger was tight against the trigger, and the metal felt hot in my grip.
"You monster," I spat, "You think you can just keep me? You think you can threaten my mom and I'll just sit here and take it?"
My chest was heaving, the blue silk dress tight against my ribs. I was shaking, but the gun stayed level. I wanted to see the light go out of his eyes. I wanted to erase the memory of what we had done by erasing him.
"Stay back!" I screamed, "I'll do it! I'll kill you right here! I don't care about the consequences! I'll blow your heart out!"
He didn't even look at the gun. He just stared into my eyes with that same cold, dark look, waiting to see if I was actually brave enough to pull the trigger.
Alexander took a slow step toward me. He wasn't scared. He didn't even put his hands up. He just kept walking, his boots clicking rhythmically on the marble floor.
Click.
Click.
Click.
"You want to be free, Josephine?" he asked, "Then you have to do it. You have to pull that trigger."
"Stay back!" I shrieked. My voice was high and thin, breaking apart in the air. "I’m warning you, Alexander! I’ll do it! I swear I’ll do it!"
He took another step. He was only five feet away now. I could see the cold, calm way he was breathing. My hands started to shake, not just a little, but a violent trembling that moved from my fingers all the way up to my shoulders.
I had shot targets. I had shot paper circles in a quiet room with my mom. But those targets didn't have eyes. They didn't have heartbeats. They didn't have the same blood that was currently rushing through my own veins.
"Look at your hands, Josephine," he mocked. He took another step, "They’re shaking. You’re terrified. And you think you can kill me?"
"Don't come any closer!" I sobbed. The gun was wobbling so much the barrel was tracing tiny circles in the air. My vision was swimming in hot, salty tears. "I hate you! I hate what you did! I hate you!"
He stopped just inches away. The muzzle of the gun was almost touching the fine fabric of his black shirt, right over his heart. He leaned in, his face so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. It made my skin crawl.
"Do it," he whispered, "Be the monster you think I am. Pull the trigger. End the nightmare. Put a hole right through me."
My finger was hooked around the cold trigger. All I had to do was squeeze. One small movement and the man who had ruined my soul would be gone. I pictured his blood on the white rug. I pictured him falling.
But my hand wouldn't obey. The trembling got worse.
"I... I..." I tried to speak, but only a broken, wet gasp came out.
"You can't," he said.
In a flash, his hand shot forward, he grabbed my wrist with a harsh grip.
"Ah!" I gasped, the pain shooting up my arm.
Before I could even think about pulling the trigger, he twisted my arm back with a violent jerk. My bones felt like they were about to pop, and my fingers flew open from the sheer shock of the sting. The gun slipped from my hand, but he caught it in mid-air before it could hit the floor.
His fingers moved with terrifying speed, clicking the release and sliding the magazine out of the grip. He pulled the slide back, and I watched the live bullet—the one meant for his heart—fly out and bounce across the marble with a tiny, metallic clink.
He threw the empty magazine one way and held the hollow gun for a second, looking at it with a look of pure disgust. Then, he dropped it and gave it a hard kick. The weapon skidded across the floor, sliding under a sofa where I couldn't reach it.
I stumbled back, clutching my throbbing wrist to my chest. I felt small. I felt pathetic. The power I had felt only seconds ago had vanished, leaving me standing there in a stolen blue dress that was too big, shivering in front of the man who owned everything.
The hope I had felt while talking to my mother was gone. I was alone in the room with the monster again, and this time, he looked like he was done playing games.