Chapter Twenty-Seven
Carrie
It was cold.
It was dark.
The beautiful coastal town I’d fallen in love with almost a year ago was quiet tonight, so much so that I could hear the ocean from where I stood. Snow was falling, the streetlight giving me just enough illumination to see the flurries fluttering down from the black sky above caressing the blanket of snow already on the ground.
I was freezing, but I kept my eyes on the home in front of me. The dark and light blue paint added to the beauty of winter all around me, the white trim covered in a fresh layer of snow, the red door in the center of the porch like a beckon.
Blue Beauty stood before me, tall and proud, waiting for me .
As I stared up at her, the crunching of snow behind me registered in my ears, and then I felt Grayson at my back, his lips against my ear. “Go inside, Sunshine.”
My body moved then, doing as he commanded, my feet carrying me up the snow-covered walkway and porch steps. I held my breath as I pulled out my keys, holding them in the center of my pink gloves. Grayson had gotten me a new coat, the same one Monica had stolen from me, this time in a baby pink that reminded me of my dishes—with matching gloves.
I’d only been gone less than three weeks, but it felt like a lifetime. I wasn’t the healed Carrie I was when Brandon attacked me. My scars had been ripped open, exposed, and more darkness was poured into them. I would never be free of Robert now. He would haunt me for the rest of my days, and he’d done what he promised me. He’d ruined me and my life.
I released a breath, letting the vapor float up and around me, unable to move.
Had all of it been for nothing?
My eyes were so focused on the set of keys in my hand, I didn’t even hear Grayson come up the porch steps until he rumbled my name, causing me to jump. I twisted my neck to look at him, finding his silhouette staring down at me. Even in the shadow, I could feel his stare. Memories bubbled up to the surface then.
Him standing under the lamppost, watching me from the shadows, both of us captivated, mesmerized by one another as we let time pass us by.
Him coming back for me.
Our first kiss.
His promise.
I’ll always come back for you, Sunshine.
“You got it?” Grayson asked gently, pulling me from my thoughts.
A lump grew in my throat. “You’re supposed to be behind me every single time I open this door,” I murmured sadly. “For the rest of our lives. That was my plan. We were supposed to grow old in this house, Grayson.”
My heart cracked as my words hovered in the freezing air between us.
He said nothing for a few long, stretched seconds. “I’m here now, Carrie. Let’s make the most of it, okay?”
Tears stung my eyes, but I faced forward and put the key into the door, twisting the lock before I nudged it open. It swung wide, gently hitting the door stopper as my eyes landed on the seagull painting, my breath catching at the pinks, oranges, and purples, like I was seeing it for the first time again.
Swallowing, I stepped inside, feeling the heat of the home, and like clockwork, I placed the keys into the bowl. As I took in the living room, Grayson shut the door, dropped our bags, and set Tic-Tac’s carrier down beside me.
“You folded the blankets,” I croaked, my eyes on the neatly folded blankets on the back of the sectional. The morning I was taken, I remembered coming downstairs to find them in disarray from the movie night Grayson and I had the night before. I had made a mental note to straighten them up after work.
Tic-Tac was freed from his carrier, and he zoomed by me, turning and running straight up the stairs, the sound of his little paws hitting the hardwood echoing through the house.
I turned to find Grayson staring at me with furrowed brows, sadness lingering in his eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I did. Right after I dropped you off at the bookstore.”
My face crumbled then, and in an instant, I was sobbing into his chest, my tears staining his shirt as my fists clung to the sides of it. “This is it, isn’t it?” I cried out, the question coming out muffled.
“I’m not leaving you until you make the choice, baby,” he said softly, pressing a kiss into my hair.
“I don’t want to,” I rasped.
“Then don’t,” he returned, his voice steady as his hand rubbed my back.
But what about all those people, those families?
I’d never be able to forgive myself.
“Can I be selfish?” I asked, looked up at him. “Just once?”
He brought his hand up to grip my chin, his eyes holding mine. “After everything you’ve been through, you have a right to be selfish.”
“Just for a week or so? Please?”
He nodded as he softly said, “Whatever you want.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t only about me, Grayson. It’s what you want too.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Carrie, what I want, you can’t give me. Your soul won’t allow it.”
My heart cried out in agony as another tear slid down the side of my face. I pressed my lips together and turned my head away from him. He let me, his hand falling away, and that hurt too. We stood like that for a few minutes before he said, “Come on. Let’s get some sleep. I’m wiped.”
My bounty hunter moved back from me then, grabbing our bags and carrying them up the stairs. I took one more look around my cozy living room, then into the kitchen.
“This was supposed to be my home, my happy ending,” I whispered to Blue Beauty. I put my hand on the railing, feeling the texture of the wood underneath my fingers. “You aren’t a home without him in it, and I’ll never be happy once he’s gone.”
I looked down, and a final tear fell from my cheek, landing on the bottom stair. A second later, I felt a chill slither up my spine, and I looked over my shoulder to find Ghost Robert in the corner, a satisfied smile on his face. Fear tried to coil around my neck, but instead, I turned away and went upstairs to Grayson—to my real home.
Then, a short time later, I fell asleep in his arms and was sucked into another nightmare.
“Grayson!” I called out, sitting up in our bed.
“He’s not here.”
I twisted to the side to find Robert sitting on the window seat, his legs crossed, dressed like he was going to work. The only difference was the blood splatter all over his white shirt. The bright red was the only color I could see, everything else black and white.
Looking away from him, I gulped, taking in my colorless room. I looked down at my comforter, finding black and gray flowers instead of pink and yellow ones. “What did you do?” I whispered, looking at my dead husband.
He leaned back with a smile on his face. “Did you honestly think you could escape me, Carrie?”
I said nothing, fisting the comforter in my hands as I held my breath.
This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.
Wake up, Carrie.
Robert pursed his lips. “You belong to me.”
Shaking my head, I whispered, “Like hell, I do.”
The kind smile morphed then, transforming into something far more sinister as he uncrossed his legs and rose from the bench slowly. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, his voice vibrating with danger.
My cozy bedroom shifted then, and suddenly, I stood in the middle of my old house. It was empty, leaving nothing but white carpet and those hideous white walls I loathed. For years, I wanted to paint them, but as always, he never let me.
History was repeating itself. This felt all too familiar.
Wake up, Carrie.
Robert came for me once I looked at him again, rounding the bed. I moved, scrambling to get away from him as fear took over. I crowded myself against the headboard. “Stay away from me,” I commanded.
His head ticked to the side, appearing almost non-human, saying nothing. Then, he lunged for me, grabbing my arm and ripping me out of the bed as I kicked my leg out. He dodged them and not even a second later, I was on my feet as his fingers tightened on my arm, bruising me. I twisted my neck to see the bed vanish, and then it was replaced by a full-length mirror. Robert roughly spun me to face it, looming behind me with a look of disgust on his face. I stiffened when he leaned down, brushing my curls away from my ear, his mouth grazing the shell of it. “You were perfect when you were mine.”
I glared at him in our reflection. “I was nothing when I was yours.”
He chuckled, bringing his hand up to my upper arm, his fingers squeezing. Then, I was in nothing but my underwear, my breasts free. “That’s exactly right, but you were perfect. You weren’t a temptation to me…” He trailed off, taking my body in. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, coming around to my side, trailing his hand down my arm, then over my stomach, up to the space between my breasts. I tried moving, but I couldn’t.
My lips began to tremble.
I was trapped.
Robert moved in front of me, his eyes on my body, hatred glistening within those dark, cold pools. “Now look at you—disgusting. You’re a poor excuse of a human, a biological eyesore. I’m here to rectify that.” In a flash, his hand was at my throat, squeezing my airway as his upper lip curled in disgust, backing me up until I was against a wall.
A dark memory of him doing this once before resurfaced as I flailed my arms, trying to push him away, but he was too strong. With a roar, he brought his other hand up to my throat, using all his might to choke the life out of me. I opened my mouth, gasping for air as pressure built up behind my eyes, my body feeling weightless. I brought my hands to his arms, digging my nails into his skin. His grip on my neck loosened a fraction, and I shot my knee up, hitting him between the legs. He grunted, and then, I was free. I gasped for air, sucking down as much of it as I could into my mouth, my lungs burning.
He shouted at me from behind as I stumbled away, falling to the white carpet. I crawled. I crawled for my life as quickly as I could, trying to push past the dizziness. A hand clamped down on my ankle, and I was being dragged back and flipped over. I screamed, throwing out my fists, punching him. He cussed at me, calling me a bitch as he got on top of me, a lock of his hair hanging down on the side of his forehead, insanity sparkling in his eyes now. He laughed, the manic sound bouncing off the empty walls, traveling throughout the cold house as I kept hitting him in the chest.
“Nothing you do will ever be enough,” he barked out before snatching my wrists and pinning them to the floor. He leaned down, hovering just above my face as my chest heaved. “You. Are. Worthless.”
With a growl, I surged up, banging my forehead against his. He fell backward and I bucked, shoving him off before I rolled away and scrambled to my feet. I turned back around to face him. “You’re worthless, Robert. You’re the biological flaw, the damn eyesore. The only one who seemed to love you was your mother, but that wasn’t enough for you, was it?”
He looked up at me from his place on the ground, his eyes wide.
“You ruined me!” I shouted. “You took years of my life away, sticking me in this house—this prison—while you ruined the lives of others, hundreds of innocent people! All for what? Your twisted god-complex and your fat phobia?” I backed away from him, still shouting. “Just because someone looks different than you doesn’t mean their lives are less valuable than yours. Just because their bodies aren’t the cut out of what you deem to be perfect human, doesn’t mean they aren’t worthy of life. My body will no longer be dictated by you or anyone else. My body is my body, I love everything about it.”
“Thank you.”
My head snapped up from where Robert was on the ground at the sound of the new voice, only to find a woman with a similar body type to mine. She was older than me, with brown hair twisted up into a bun, dressed in jeans and a loose t-shirt. My eyes dropped to the bruises around her neck, the imprint of fingers chilling me to the bone. She was pale, her lips blue, and there were a few popped blood vessels in her eyes. She gave me a closed-mouth smile and looked down at Robert as the smile faded. “I was taking a walk in the park,” she began softly. “It was a Saturday. My mother and I were going to the Cards game that night, but I wanted to get some fresh air before then. So, I grabbed my book and headphones and headed out the door. He was walking towards me, dressed in a suit, phone to his ear. He looked at me, then scanned my body.”
I looked at Robert, who was now starting to stand, glaring at her.
“I didn’t think anything of it and continued on my walk. I got to the park, sat down on the bench, and was reading my book before I felt it—the sense of danger,” she explained.
Knives gathered in my throat.
“He was watching me, waiting. When I was ready to head home, to get ready for the game, I left that bench thinking about how much fun my mom and I were going to have.”
I braced myself.
“I never made it to the game.”
The wall behind her faded away, and I saw nothing but a long, wide white room, filled with more people. None of them were skinny. They were all different ages, the youngest being no older than twenty. My throat burned, my stomach dropping as my lips parted.
“Thank you for saying that,” the woman said, drawing my attention. “Though, I doubt it matters now.”
My head slowly turned towards Robert. “You monster,” I whispered, my voice thick with hatred.
He looked at all of them and then back to me, his face expressionless. “I did what I had to do,” he said lowly, snapping his fingers at the woman as he addressed her. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
The woman looked at me again. “I’m sorry, Carrie.”
I flinched at the sound of my name on her lips.
Then, she was walking away from me, heading to the small crowd of people. I remained frozen, watching as all of them turned their backs to me, walking away, fading into the blinding white light.
When they were gone, Robert turned to me. “You’re next.”
My eyes widened, and then he surged forward, lunging for me, growling my name.
I screamed a name.
I screamed for Grayson.
“Carrie! Carrie, wake up!”