Chapter Fifteen #2
“Let’s see what you’ve got here,” he says, walking me toward the map on the wall.
The one of all the nearby parks. Brightly colored pins mark the fifteen sites we’ve been targeting so far.
We’ve searched them on foot without finding anything, but we’re hoping the cadaver dogs can help us find the exact locations.
He takes his time, leaning in close to inspect our work.
“Looks like you’ve been trying to find my girls. ”
I’m quiet for a moment, then I say, “I don’t think you have any girls. If there were, we would have found them. I think the reports of your being a serial killer are wildly overblown.”
He bursts into laughter. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to reveal my kills because you’re playing to my ego?”
I shrug. “I just don’t think you have any kills. Tell the truth. You lost your nerve after poor Briana Petersen, didn’t you?”
“You don’t know shit.”
“I know you.”
“The funny thing is, you found Avery,” he says, moving several of the pins in my map around.
“But you’re way off on the others. Here they are, not that your little murder map will do you any good after I start the fire in here.
Make sure all of your research is destroyed and my girls stay mine.
And if you don’t behave you’ll be added to the list. Does that make you feel special? ”
I keep my mouth shut. The more in control he thinks he is, the better. I am going to remain calm and wait for my moment.
“I knew it was indulgent of me to take you to visit them,” he says. “I tried to take circuitous routes to throw you off a little. But I just couldn’t resist the temptation to be near them, you know?”
My brows knit together in confusion. “Why did you take me to those places? Couldn’t you bear to be near them on your own?”
“Because sharing them with you was special.” His gaze roams around the rest of the room. The books on true crime etcetera. And all of the photos on the walls of us together and all the places we visited. “See…you’ve been thinking about me too. We’re more alike than you want to admit.”
“This isn’t me sitting around reminiscing about how great things were between us. And I can assure you that we’re nothing alike.”
“I don’t know. Putting up this many photos seems more than a little obsessive if I’m being honest. Like you might be fixated on me.
” He tightens the hold on my hair. “I mean let’s face facts, this isn’t normal.
My therapist would have so much to say about this room, Sidney.
He would go on and fucking on about what all of this means.
Though it does kind of explain why that other guy didn’t hang around.
You really haven’t moved on from me at all, have you? ”
“I hate you.”
“You were always so much fun. Anyone with half a brain would try to pacify me right now. But not you. Look at you seething, and not even smart enough to hide it,” he says, still holding my hair with one hand and grabbing hold of my chin in a bruisingly hard grip with the other.
“The hatred in your eyes is completely out of control. So much rage barely hidden below the surface. Right there underneath that soft pretty skin of yours. And you’ve always been this way…
so angry at me and the world and everything.
But then they say love and hate are two sides of the same coin, don’t they? ”
“What are you even talking about?”
“This is your chance, Sidney, to leave behind this bland boring as fuck life and come with me. Just admit that you want us to be together. I want to hear you say it.”
“What the—”
“You’re a killer too. I know you are. I can see it right there in your eyes.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t I? So you’re telling me you didn’t get a rush from watching my mother die?”
“No!”
“Let’s experiment, shall we?” He sets me free, releasing his hold on my hair and chin, and taking a step back.
Then he takes another. And another. Leaving a free path to the open study door and the house beyond.
His smile is as wide as can be and his eyes alight with some sick emotion.
“What are you going to do, Sidney? Huh? What are you going to do?”
I don’t answer him. Words would be a waste of energy. What I do instead is sprint toward the kitchen. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I am going to carve his heart out and end him for once and for all.
His hand reaches out for me, but too slowly.
That’s one of the problems with bulking up…
you get strong…but all of the extra muscle mass slows you down.
The knife block sits on the counter near the entry to the dining room.
I couldn’t have positioned it any better if I’d planned this.
My fingers close tightly around the handle and yes.
I am now armed. He reaches for my hair again, but it’s not long enough for him to hold tight. Not when I have some momentum.
Auggie is barking and scratching at the door. Such a good dog. But there’s no way for him to get in and lend his teeth. Just as well. I don’t want to risk him getting hurt.
It doesn’t take Ryan long to try again. This time he seizes a fistful of the back of my tee.
There’s no good way for me to escape him in such close quarters.
But I don’t want to get away from him now.
Fuck no. I want to get in nice and close.
His fist comes flying at me as I turn toward him, slamming into the middle of my face.
Something cracks and warm wet blood gushes from my nose.
For a second my vision darkens from the pain.
“Drop the knife, Sidney. Now.”
And that’s the one thing I am not going to do. This is not the first time I’ve been punched. I don’t freeze up in shock. I can take it and keep standing. He reaches for the knife but nope. Not happening. I won’t allow him to take it. He makes a grab, but I pull it back to my side.
“Fuck,” he yelps as his fingers only find the sharp edge of the blade.
Nice to know I am not the only one bleeding.
I surge forward and sink the point into his stomach.
The noise he makes is so strange. Like I let the air out of him.
His back arches and he rears back trying to escape my reach.
Trying to protect his soft underbelly from me.
When I lunge again, he’s backed up just enough to avoid the blade.
But blood is making the floor so slippery.
Not even those designer-brand tennis shoes can help him now.
He loses traction and tumbles to the ground.
And I follow, landing on top of him. Humans really are creatures of habit.
Because instead of trying to take the knife from me, he does his usual.
Strong hands wrap tightly around my neck as he tries to squeeze the life out of me.
The pain in my neck is excruciating and it only gets worse with each gasping breath I try to take.
But I treat his big buff body like a pincushion and his hold weakens as I plunge the blade into him, over and over again.
The handle is slippery with blood and gore.
And a pool of blood surrounds us. Splatter covers the kitchen cabinets, reaching halfway up the wall.
His hands fall from me as his mouth opens slackly. Guess he’s going to go out like his mom, with those same bloody bubbles on his lips. Though I am going to enjoy watching him die far more than I did Dianne.
“See,” he says in a weak voice with a sloppy smile, “you are a killer.”
Hard to disagree with him, but I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t get another word from me. And once this moment is finished, as soon he takes his last breath, I will do my best to never think about him again.
“You wait…I bet you’ve got a taste for it now,” he whispers. Then he’s as still as the body he left in the living room. His eyes staring up at me blankly.
The knife falls from my hand and clatters to the floor. I can’t quite believe it. After all these years he’s really dead. I am finally free of him.
“Baby,” utters Noah, from where he stands in the doorway. So much shock in his gaze.
And yeah…I don’t know what to say.