Chapter 12 #3
“Downstairs. I’ll show you, but you need to step back.
” I groan, but do as she says. She starts to douse the room with the gasoline, and I keep inching backward.
The smell is rather harsh, so I pull my hoodie up over my nose and mouth, trying to block it out.
She continues a trail out of the room, and we start to move back the way we came, sure to pour an extra amount into the three rooms—hers, DeLuca’s, and Saconne’s.
“Are you sure there’s nothing we need out of there?” My voice muffles through my shirt.
“I’m sure. They kept everything on their phones, and they always kept those with them.” That’s when she snaps up straight and turns back to me in a flash. “DeLuca’s phone. It might still be on her body.”
“Well, let’s go then.” I gesture with my hand and start walking. She follows just like before, and when we reach the front of the building again, she drops the now-empty can and runs to grab a new one.
“You might want to hurry up, Ash. I think I hear someone shuffling in the hallway.”
My entire body runs cold.
“Is it Damien?”
“I don’t think so. It’s coming from the opposite side of the house.”
A relieved sigh leaves my lips.
“Okay. If anyone gets up, don’t let them know that anything is going on.
” Victoria leads me down the stairs, and a new kind of emptiness washes over me.
Even the air down here feels dead, and the smells make their way through my hoodie’s fabric.
This is where the scent of decay was coming from, and it’s so heavy that it’s absorbed the oxygen in the air.
We walk down this long hallway and to the left, coming into a room with multiple dead monitors and wires. She shines her light on the desktop tower, and I don’t waste a second to run over to it.
“How do we get the hard drive out?” she inquires.
“We’re not. That’s a Carter problem. We’re taking the whole thing.” I unplug the wires from the wall and pick up the tower, pivoting to make my way back through, when Victoria steps up to me.
“You’re going to see a lot of things on that footage—things that I’m embarrassed and regretful of.
Don’t tell anyone else what they did to me, please?
” Her eyes are desperate, and her face is so taut that I can’t tell if her lips are quivering from the tension or her emotions.
My heart twists at the fear radiating off her, and the resistance I feel towards her starts to dim.
“I won’t…”
She stays silent as we move back toward the stairs, splashing gasoline everywhere she can, when a room right by the stairs stops me in my tracks—like something is pulling me in there.
I step inside, unsure of what I’ll find, but in an instant, it hits me.
The bodies come into view, all sprawled out and contorted.
Each one is a more mangled and beaten mess than the first. I move my light around the room, studying each decomposing figure, when it lands on the one that matters the most.
The only woman out of the group lies in the middle of the floor, neck broken like a small twig. As if the smell wasn’t bad enough, her liquified skin does me in, and I retch, having to turn my head to the side to avoid ruining the computer in my arms.
“Ash? Are you alright?” Carter asks through the com, and Victoria runs into the room, then stops in place to look around. A grimace forms on her face, like she’ll vomit as well. I rotate just a little, so I don’t have to watch her if she does, and catch my breath before talking to Carter.
“I’m fine. I found DeLuca…” I tell him and look back down to her.
That same rage churns my stomach again, but I swallow it back down, letting it wash over me instead.
I raise my foot and drive it down on her skull, almost retching another time when my foot squelches against the floor.
Victoria gags this time, but I don’t turn my head to watch her puke.
I step back, but keep my gaze focused on that retched woman’s corpse, hoping that she hears me in whatever circle of hell she now resides in.
“I’ll be seeing you in the afterlife, you vile bitch. ”
I bend down and reach into her pockets, desperate to find the phone and get the fuck out of here.
The moment my fingers wrap around it, I jerk it away and retreat, having to breathe through my nose to keep myself together.
Victoria finally stands straight, avoiding looking back into the room.
She’s shaking lightly, and I can barely see that her eyes are closed.
“Do you need me to douse it?” I ask genuinely.
“No…” She shakes her head. “No. I want to do it.” She swipes the gas can again and walks right up to DeLuca’s body, overcoming her disgust. Just when I think she’s hesitating, she spits on DeLuca’s corpse, jutting forward to put some force behind it.
“Fuck you,” she seethes before lifting the gas can.
Her arms jerk and shake as she pours it onto the body, making sure it’s drenched before she starts to back out of the room, and I scurry back up the stairs, knowing we don’t have much time left.
It feels like only a matter of seconds before we’re both outside, staring up at the haunted asylum. She throws the can back into the building and looks down at my feet.
“You might want to throw those in there, too. Unless you want decaying corpse-jello in your socks forever.”
I hand her the computer tower and slip them off, throwing them inside without a second thought.
Then I pull out the one essential thing I brought tonight—Damien’s lighter.
A part of me doesn’t want to throw it away, but a part of him should be involved in this destruction, even if he doesn’t know it.
It flickers to life easily with a simple flick of the ignitor, and I take a small moment to breathe in this sense of accomplishment.
“Torch this piece of shit.”
I throw the lighter inside, admiring the fire as it whooshes to life.
Smoke quickly begins to billow out from the doors, and we take that as our sign to leave.
Nothing I’ve done so far has felt as satisfying—as relieving—as this does.
Even through all of the destruction I caused looking for Damien, it doesn’t compare to this.
It feels good, really good, and that might be something I’ll have to sort out later.
But for now, I’ll be able to sleep better knowing that it’s gone.
My tired body aches as I walk downstairs, having to squint my eyes from the late-morning sun beaming through the large living room windows. John is standing in front of them, of course, sipping coffee like it’s any other morning as he turns around to meet my gaze.
“Good morning, dear,” he says lovingly.
“Morning.” As I step on to the main floor, my stomach rumbles, and then the baby starts kicking immediately after.
I start walking towards the kitchen to make everyone breakfast, giggling to myself.
It makes me think of a time not so long ago when Damien bet I wouldn’t be able to cook for a hundred people.
I feel pretty prepared now, though. “What are you doing?” I ask John as he continues to stare out into the yard.
“I’m looking at the smoke swirling in the sky. The news said there was a structure fire at the base of the mountain.” I open the refrigerator, trying like hell to avoid looking at him, and pull eggs and milk out.
“Oh, really?” I pretend to be oblivious.
“Yes. It looks pretty big,” John says in a tone that I would consider taunting, at least in his stoic nature, and I turn back to the kitchen island.
“Well, that’s a shame,” I brush it off. He makes his way into the kitchen, standing opposite of me as I crack eggs into a mixing bowl.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” He raises a brow, leaning against the granite top on his elbow. His face contorts into that half-proud, half-cocky grin, just like Damien’s, and I have to bite back a smile.
“Nope,” I lie, but he already knows that.
He smirks at me and turns to walk back towards the window, taking my answer for what it is.
I return to the fridge to pull out some blueberries and bread, when Serena and Damien walk down the stairs.
Ser’s back to wearing one of her crop tops and pajama pants, surely to tease Carter, while my hot husband is shirtless—again.
It really isn’t fair for him to be so damn attractive, and if our situation was different, we wouldn’t be downstairs at all.
“His heart rate and blood pressure are good. There’s no change from yesterd—oh, hell yeah! You’re making french toast explosion?” Serena squeals and practically skips over to the kitchen.
“French toast bake? Yeah, I am.” I laugh and start to pull the bread apart as Damien walks over to me. His hair is dangling in his face, and while I can tell he’s annoyed with my best friend, he grins at me anyway. “Good morning, handsome.”
“Good morning, my love.” He kisses my cheek and stands beside me, almost a little standoffish, but I try not to take it to heart.
I’ve noticed lately that whenever he gets too close, he starts to back away, like he’s afraid he'll hurt me. It breaks my heart a little more every time, because I can see the yearning in his eyes. I know how badly he wants to be close to me, but I’m afraid to push him.
So, I don’t say anything. I sit by and wait for him to come to me.
He may not know exactly what DeLuca and Saconne did to him, but it’s clear that a part of him feels it.
Something in his head is telling him to keep a distance, and I won’t dare force him to do otherwise.