22. Myla
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ipark my bike around the corner from the house. It’s not late enough to be dark out, but it’s the only time I can get to David Grace without witnesses. Even here, he’s not alone. There’s a woman who appears to watch over the girls and do the bare minimum to keep them alive, and then there are the girls themselves. If I can’t get David alone, I’m counting on everyone else being too out of it to know what’s going on. It’s a worthwhile risk.
Creeping around to the side of the house, I push open the same window I climbed through a few days ago. The room was empty then, but today, it’s occupied by the girl David thinks he’s going to violate. Pushing myself up, I swing a leg through the window and shift my weight until my foot reaches the floor. I sweep the room with my eyes, making sure nothing is amiss, and find that everything is just how I anticipated.
The girl is already dressed in what looks like a communion dress, complete with lace gloves and a veil. Fuck me, I didn’t think this guy could get any more twisted. I was wrong. She belatedly lifts her head from the pillow since I’ve been in the room for nearly a minute already.
“Who are you?” she asks, her speech slurred and her eyes unfocused.
I hold a finger to my lips, hoping she’ll comply. Thankfully, she says nothing as I creep over to the closet to hide. My plan relies on a surprise attack, so I breathe a sigh of relief when I see her lay her head back down. Closing the bi-fold doors, I hide amidst frilly dresses styled for toddlers and kindergarteners but in larger sizes. Bile rises in my throat, thinking about why these dresses are here.
Time seems to drag on, each minute feeling like an eternity as I question my actions. Did I make a mistake? I only observed him for a week, and there’s a possibility that his routine may not be the same each week. I push away all the doubts, though, because there’s no room for them now. That girl in there wouldn’t be dressed like that if something wasn’t about to happen.
The anticipation of watching the blood drain from his body has consumed my thoughts ever since I found out about this place. If this doesn’t go according to plan, it will be more than a disappointment—it will feel like a crushing defeat.
A surge of adrenaline courses through my veins, causing my fingers to twitch and my heart to thud loudly in my chest. Excitement consumes me as I mentally prepare for what I’m about to do. The rush of power and control that comes before a kill is addictive, overriding any nerves or doubts that may linger. In this moment, I feel like I hold all the power in the world, untouchable and unstoppable.
To pass the time, I reach for my 9mm SIG, my fail safe. It’ll be a shame when I have to get rid of this gun; I love its compact size and how secure it feels in my petite hand, and that’s exactly why I always carry it. After tucking it back into my thigh holster, I crouch down and retrieve my tactical knife from its sheath, also hidden on my person.
It would be simpler and less risky to shoot David instead of stabbing him, but it wouldn’t give me the same sense of satisfaction. I understand how serial killers develop signatures. Nothing else could compare to the thrill of plunging the blade into his flesh and watching the blood spill out like a crimson river. It feels almost as if his death wouldn’t count if I didn’t do it that way, and I wonder if this is how Judge feels about his flagellation.
The carpet absorbs David’s footfalls, so I don’t hear him walk into the room so much as I feel the energy change. It’s for that reason I also won’t know where he is in the room until he speaks. My breath catches in my lungs, and my palms dampen with sweat. I switch the knife between my hands as I dry them on my pants and continue to wait.
“Look at you,” he coos. “All ready for your First Communion like a good girl.”
Seething anger consumes me, and my stomach churns with the urge to eliminate this despicable excuse for a human being. From his voice, I can tell he’s sitting on the bed or nearby, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. In an instant, I steel myself and mentally go through every possible plan, A through D, all hinging on my ability to strike fast and leave no room for his reaction.
The girl’s reply comes through as a faint whisper I can’t make out, but if she’s feeding into this twisted fantasy, then I don’t want to hear it anyway.
Placing my hand on the back of the wooden door, I push, but it’s not my effort that has the bi-fold doors opening. For a split second, fear courses through me, and I panic. My hand falls to my side, and I watch in horror as the door slowly opens.
David’s smug face materializes, and my rage boils over. The memories of my past traumas flood my mind, each one driving my will to fight back. With fierce determination, I swing my knife, hoping he’ll be too stunned to see my next move. It makes contact with his upper arm, blood soaking his white button-down before I switch my grip and raise the weapon high in the air, ready to plunge it into his flesh. David’s fast, though, his reflexes kicking in as he grabs my wrist with a vice-like grip, halting my attack. Our eyes lock as I struggle to regain control, throwing up a knee that he blocks with his thigh. Every muscle in our bodies tense as I realize he’s too strong.
Fuck. Shit. I’m trapped inside the closet with no room to move, and all of my backup plans rely on me being able to break away and reach my gun. My gun. I have a gun that he doesn’t know about yet, and I need to keep it that way, though strapped to my thigh isn’t much of a hiding spot.
“Who the hell are you?” he asks, squeezing my wrist until I can no longer hold onto the knife. It falls to the carpet between us with a soft thud. Pursing my lips, I glare up at him, not saying a damn word. “It’s going to be like that, huh?”
He releases my hand, shifting his hold to my upper arm and yanking me out of the closet. The girl on the bed looks sheepish, and I shoot her a nasty look. I know she’s a victim here, but this was her chance to get back at one of the men who’s taking advantage of her. Why would she sell me out?
Noticing my glower, David says, “Oh, her? You thought she’d be on your side? She’s an addict, you stupid cunt. If I’m not around, who’s going to give her the good stuff?”
“Please, Daddy?” she begs.
He reaches into his pocket and tosses her a baggy. She greedily opens it and places a diamond-shaped pill on her tongue, Molly, maybe? I’d need a psychoactive drug to fuck this asshole too.
“Be a good girl and sit tight while I deal with her.” He yanks me out the door and down the hall. The gun has still gone unnoticed, but it’s only a matter of time. I need to be patient and wait for the right moment. It’ll only take a split second for me to get it out of the holster and aim it at his big head.
David’s strides are long, his grip firm as he whips me around like a rag doll. My teeth clank together, and I have a hard time keeping my feet under me, but he’s jostling me enough that he might not notice if I reach down. Keeping an eye on him, I keep my muscles loose so he doesn’t notice what I’m doing as I inch my hand down my thigh. I almost have my hand around the grip when he stops to open a door. I quickly retreat, mentally cursing myself for not going faster.
“Down you go.” He gives me a shove, and before I even register his words, I tumble down the flight of unfinished stairs, powerless to stop myself against the forward momentum. I land at the bottom, my head cracking painfully against the cement floor. My vision narrows, and I see double for a few seconds before I lift my head and blink.
Looking left and right, I see nothing but pitch-black darkness, the only light coming from the top of the stairs. Pain signals overwhelm my brain as I try to decipher where the worst of the injuries are, but I can’t focus on that now because there’s still a madman after me. I push myself to sit as David slowly takes one step at a time, a menacing gleam in his eyes. My head swims, and my brain loses its focus. No, no, no, no. I blink and blink again, my vision clearing and my mind slowly sharpening.
The acrid stench of ammonia mixed with a putrid, earthy smell assaults my senses, and I struggle to keep from retching. David’s form looms over me, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent as he closes in. I’m faced with a choice: continue fighting or give up and succumb to the darkness. My body aches, and my mind screams for mercy, but I refuse to let another man hurt me after everything I’ve endured.
Running a hand down my leg, I make a quick grab for the SIG. My fingers meet the smooth leather holster but nothing else. Patting my thigh over and over as if I somehow missed it, all hope slowly dies. My gun is gone.
“Looking for this?” David stands at my feet, pointing the SIG right at me.
This wasn’t how I thought my life would end. Judge is gonna be so pissed—if he even finds out. No one knows where I am, and if I were to guess, my body will be dumped somewhere it’ll never be found. I’ll just disappear, leaving everyone wondering if I ran away or if something sinister happened.
David’s laughter echoes through my mind as I stare him down, refusing to beg for my life like a coward. My chin juts out with stubborn pride, daring him to make his move. He sighs impatiently and pulls the trigger, the deafening shot ringing in my ears as I’m thrown back by the force of the bullet. Pain explodes through my body as I hit the cold concrete floor, a sickening thud reverberating in my skull.
Darkness engulfs me as I slip into oblivion, unsure if I blacked out or if I’m dying. Either way, I welcome the peaceful nothingness that awaits me.
As consciousness slowly returns, I blink my eyes open, only to be met with absolute darkness. The second thing that registers is my lack of clothing. Beneath my bare body lies cold, unforgiving concrete, sending shivers through my body. My teeth chatter uncontrollably, my head is throbbing with a vengeance, and my mind is muddled, unable to recall the events leading up to this moment. I try to push myself upright, but a searing pain in my left arm causes me to fall back down and cry out in agony.
Cautiously, I explore my shoulder, feeling something wet and sticky before reaching a wound. My heart races, and a wave of dizziness washes over me as I realize I have no idea what I’m even touching. The skin around the edges is torn and jagged, revealing soft and chunky flesh beneath. As I probe further, I’m almost certain I can feel the firmness of muscle tissue in the center. Bile rises in my throat as I struggle to keep it together. I turn my head away just in time for my lunch to splatter to the floor beside me. The stench of vomit mixes with the metallic tang of blood, creating a sickening cocktail that assaults my senses.
Like a nightmare playing through my mind, everything comes back to me. The closet, David finding me, him shoving me down the stairs, and finally, him shooting me point blank without even an ounce of hesitation. Oh my god, he shot me. From what I can tell, it’s just a graze, but it’s no less shocking.
Tears prick my eyes as my initial waking thoughts replay through my mind, only this time, they take on a much sinister tone. It’s dark because he put me in that stinky basement. I’m naked because someone undressed me while I was unconscious, which means he might’ve. . . I press my legs together, relieved I can’t feel any signs of sexual abuse, though relieved feels too strong of a word, all things considered.
“FUUUUUCCCCKKK!” My shout echoes through what must be an empty space. As the disparity of my situation steals my last shred of hope, my stomach turns sour, and tears leak from my eyes, sliding into my hair and pooling in my ears. What the hell do I do now?
Everything in me wants to give up. I can’t go through this again. Even if I don’t know what this is, I know it’s more than I have mental energy for. God, I was so fucking cocky, thinking I’d get through my list unscathed. When I ran into trouble with Johnathan at the club, it should’ve been the wake-up call I needed, but instead, it made me feel invincible because I got away.
Cringing, I swallow the thick mucus sitting in the back of my throat and roll onto my right side, curling into a ball. No one knows where I am, and there’s no way for them to know. Judge knows of the list, but I tucked it into my bra when I left the house, so not even he knows how to find me. A piercing pain shoots through my heart, but it’s not from my injuries. It’s from the thought of never seeing him again.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. If only I had known this was how things would end, I wouldn’t have wasted the last week giving him the cold shoulder. Instead, I would have found the courage to tell him how I truly feel and explained how much those feelings scare me.
As I suck in a shuddering breath, it dawns on me that it took being shoved down the stairs, shot at, and trapped in a dark basement for me to finally be honest with myself. How could I have been so blind and foolish? Every second I spent pushing him away feels like an eternity of missed opportunities and regrets now.
My love for Judge is a twisted, all-consuming force, the opposite of all cliché notions of romance. It’s a toxic blend of death and darkness, fueled by blood and pain. We are two broken souls, irreparably damaged but somehow perfectly matched. The chances of us ever crossing paths were slim to none, yet fate brought us together. Isn’t that worth fighting for?
I’m getting the hell out of here. My only option is to find the dreaded stairs and hope that the door at the top isn’t locked. It takes all of my strength, but I push up using one arm while holding the other close to my body. The intense pain forces animalistic sounds from me, but I refuse to give up. As I stand on shaky legs, I scan the darkness around me, searching for a way out.
With each small step, my movements are accompanied by chattering teeth and weak knees; from shock or the cold, I can’t tell which. Eventually, my hand brushes against something hard—a wall. I keep my hand on the rough surface as I slowly make my way around the perimeter, mapping out the space in my mind. I jolt when I feel something unexpected—something that changes everything.
Cold, steel bars.