Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I sat on the bed of my cousin’s room, staring at the wall. I don’t know how long I sat there for. Hours maybe. I heard him up in the garage, working on some way to secure the dock in case more people started showing up.
Not that it should matter at all.
I closed my eyes and saw the vision of fire at the back of my eyelids, burning, consuming everything.
Would he leave me alone to burn or would he join me?
Both scared the ever-living shit out of me. Even now I felt the sick fear rolling in me.
A terrified voice inside said I’d be very much alone. Emery’s ghosts would want to live on haunting him. Or at least he’d believe they did in his mind, still not wanting to give his sister up, not for me.
I wondered about where he would put me when he did it. I knew he would have to tie me up so I didn’t go running. Probably somewhere upstairs in the dining room or living room. I wondered if he would be merciful at least to knock me out first, so I wouldn’t have to feel any pain.
Slowly, I rose and went to the kitchen. I threw away the food that I had cooked then took a bottled water out of the fridge. After emptying it, I mindlessly took food out and ate whatever I got in my hands, ripping open a yogurt and shoveling it into my mouth, eating half an apple before dropping it on the floor and going for more. Taking bites, then throwing them on the ground. I went for the cabinets next flinging cans aside until I found a bag of chips, tearing it open and stuffing my face before dropping it too.
Within a half hour, the kitchen was a disaster, food everywhere, on the floor, left on the table. It didn’t matter if it got wasted, after all. None of it mattered.
I went for the living area next and looked at the TV screen, of the several images of the house and yard. Saw Emery coming and going from the back, through the back door of the garage.
Taking the projector still sitting behind the couch, I flung it at the screen. It hit across one corner, instantly forming a nice large web-like crack along one side. I stalked for the door to the cellar, inside I started sifting around the shelves. No tools of course, since he took them all upstairs. I found an old dumbbell instead on the bottom of a shelf and took it. Marching my way up the cellar steps, I blindly started to smash it against the door and the lock hoping something would break. I didn’t care if he heard me, I used both hands to bring the dumbbell down again and again, my muscles burning from the exertion. I dropped the dumbbell, letting it roll down the stairs. Covering my mouth, I turned away, leaving the cellar door.
Rushing back into the apartment, I went into my cousin's room and stumbled into the bathroom.
I took great heavy breaths, nausea twisting in me, sweat running down my back as my body shook from a chill. The panic swept through me so violently that I was certain I was going to be sick, going to lose all the food I had stuffed in my mouth.
Instead I knelt by the tub, breathing heavily, closing my eyes as I rested my head on my arm.
I remained there, expecting to hear Emery’s footsteps. Expecting to hear his voice at the door, first asking me what happened. Then if I was alright.
I lifted my hand, looking at the Band-Aids he’d wrapped around my fingers and created a fist. He cared enough when I hurt myself, yet he was also willing to tie me up and set the house on fire to watch me burn. It didn’t make any fucking sense.
But then Emery never made any sense.
I had his trust once. And it had been broken. Yet, even in all the madness, in all the rage, there were those moments I still saw that desperation, that hope. Those moments where time stood still and we might forgive and forget. A moment of silence from the voices, from the sickness, where he could just…
He could just love me.
It was my betrayal and the pain that weakened his judgment. Leaving it up to his ghosts who told him this was the only way to deal with the pain because I had been out to ruin him and finish what my father started.
I leaned back against the tub, feeling almost numb, my stomach still turning. I could go up and beg him not to. Or I could fight. I didn’t think I had any other options.
Taking a slow breath, I turned on the water in the shower, closing the curtain.
From sneaking through the attic and now the cellar, my clothes were covered with dust and there were cobwebs in my hair. I felt dirty and a hot shower might ease the pain in my stomach and muscles.
I stripped off my pants and kicked them toward the door, then I lifted my shirt over my head. Something clattered to the ground as I took my shirt off. I looked down and saw Emery’s necklace.
Picking it up, I rubbed the heart gently through my fingers.
Like a woman possessed, I unclasped the ends then drew the necklace around my throat, securing it around me and letting my fingers run along the beads.
Staring at it from the mirror, I took off the rest of my clothes and set them aside.
A vision of Emery stood behind me, his head bending down so his face was level with mine. The skull face smiled at me as his head tilted. His hand came up and trailed across the beads, down my collarbone, then across my breast, cupping it firmly in his large, heavy hand, kneading it. His other went lower, down my stomach, then between my thighs.
“Let go,” he whispered in my ear. “Let go, Evee.”
My eyes fluttered shut and I lifted my head. I could practically feel the heat of him at my back. Could feel myself melting into him, feel the ache in my center, my body pulsating.
Let go, baby.
KNOCK KNOCK.
My eyes snapped open, and I gasped. The vision of Emery was gone.
I turned my head toward the door. I went and opened it.
No one. No one was there.
Why did my heart just sink?
I clasped the plastic heart in my hand, standing in the doorway, so sure I had heard the knock. The vision of Emery so pure.
I was losing my mind and I didn’t care.
I didn’t care.
My hand tightened around the heart.
No, I wouldn’t go.
I wouldn’t go down with this house.
And I’d win. Those fucking bitches in his head would lose.
I stepped into the bedroom and went for the duffel bag. I threw clothes across the room until I found what I was looking for. I took up the silky robe and put it on, tying the strap tight.
I went into the living area. I looked up at the now cracked screen and searched.
There I saw him down by the dock placing a set of wires attached to some metal pipe, his body aimed toward the garage so he could see the door clearly. In case I might come slipping out.
I figured as much, but that was fine.
Better to hide in the house and wait.
Knowing he was working fast and I’d have little time before he entered the garage again, I whirled around and swept into the kitchen. I went for the drawer with the knife and took it, dropping it in my robe pocket. Then I made for the stairs.
At the top, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed open the door, dragging the box of things he set in front across the floor. I stepped over it into the hall and looked over to the open door, leading to the garage.
My heart pounded as I shut the basement door and turned into the kitchen. Even through the small crack in the boarded window, I could tell the daylight was beginning to fade. But with all the windows covered, it might as well be night.
I went across the dining room and over to the front door. I saw the wood nailed across the lock to keep it sealed shut.
But I wasn’t looking to run, just to hide. Some part of me was certain he wouldn’t go through with burning the house down without me. I didn’t know if it was true for sure, but I felt certain enough to test the theory. He would search for me day and night. His ghosts would demand it to be sure I hadn’t somehow escaped. And they wanted it to be on the anniversary, like some kind of ritual. A finality of that night six years ago.
A game of cat and mouse. Only this time, the mouse wasn’t so scared of the cat. Not anymore. And if he did catch her…
I closed my eyes.
No more fighting.
The garage door opened. Sucking in a breath, I looked around for a solid place to hide. One he wouldn’t readily search. Not right away. Because I knew he would turn over every single piece of wood to find me.
The door slammed shut and, out of instinct to get far away, I bolted for the stairs, trying to keep my footsteps as light as possible.
I thought about the attic. I started straight for the guestroom, then slowed to a halt.
No. He would definitely look there sooner than later and it was too open, too few places to sneak into.
I looked down the hall to my dad’s study. He had a crawl space in the closet, I could—
I heard a creak on the stairs. Panic forced me to move, turning into my room instead. I bolted inside and kneeled beside the bed. Stupid idea . As if he won’t look under the bed . But the closet would be way too easy.
I slid myself underneath, barely fitting. I waited, trying to stifle the gasps of breath from my racing heart.
The sound must have been my imagination because I saw no boots come into view of the door. Instead, I heard movement downstairs. I heard the basement door shut and knew he must have gone down into the basement. I imagined the barely controlled fury that would rise in him when he saw the mess and realized I was missing.
I carefully crawled out and got to my feet. Stepping quietly back into the hall, I made my way down to my dad’s study at the end. As I got to the door, I turned the knob and found it locked.
I spit out a curse. I went into the guest bedroom instead, glancing at the attic door. Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could fit into the hole I had hid the puzzle box in.
The basement door swung open and hit against the wall. Heavy footsteps walked fast down below.
“Eve?”
Fuck .
No time to make it up the attic without him hearing. I panicked again and went to the bed.
I slipped underneath, pressed tight just like under my bed. I heard him walking around, heard doors being shut and heavy things being moved. He knew I was somewhere else and he was taking the time to make sure I didn’t slip past him somehow and make it outside.
He called for me again, moving across the dining room and making for the stairs. I stiffened, covering my mouth with my hand. He went down the hall and through each room. Furniture moved, objects clattering as he searched.
He made it to the guest room, his boots standing beside the bed. His hand moved underneath the mattress, and I knew now he was about to tear it off the frame and fling it aside to see underneath and find me there.
I braced myself as he started to lift it—
THUD. BAM.
He froze. Something heavy fell from above us. Up in the attic.
He let go of the mattress and rushed for the attic door. He wrenched it open and up he went.
As he did, I took the chance to free myself from under the bed. I got off my knees and didn’t look back as I flew down the hallway and back down the stairs.
Breathless, I paused again to figure out where to go. I ran back over to the kitchen and saw the hallway to the garage door had been barred by several things including the oven.
How he dragged it over was something to marvel at another time. The only places now were the bathroom or kitchen cabinet. I thought about poor April hiding there at Lena’s. No, none would work. Hiding behind things like the couch would only last so long.
I turned back to the dining room and paused. I looked over at Dad’s old gin cabinet. Besides a long crack to one side, it was intact.
Another loud crash came from upstairs and flinched.
Fuck it.
I pressed my fingers into the wood of the lower shelf and pulled. The wood stuck halfway, and I had to pull hard to get it to slide all the way. I crawled inside feet first, cramming myself in just like I had before. I’d definitely grown some because instead of it just being uncomfortably cramped, it was damn near painful, and I had to curl myself up even tighter.
I tried sliding the wood door, shaking it back and forth when it got jammed.
Emery neared as he stomped across the hall. I clamped down a hiss of frustration as I slid the wood back but couldn’t get it to shut all the way, leaving a one-inch crack.
Too late to shut it all the way now. Emery came flying down the stairs, and I went still as he passed by.
He walked by a few times, calling my name. At one point, I saw a hammer in his hand as he went to the second floor, to what I suspected was the attic. Good thing I hadn’t chosen to hide in the wall after all because I heard him hammering against the wall, clearly having found the hole and opening it up more so he could see inside.
He returned and started to pace. Shouting my name.
In his voice, I heard it. The panic. But it wasn’t filled with rage like I had expected. It was laced with terror.
He was afraid.
I listened to him, my heart twisting. The pain in his voice was loud and clear. It almost made me want to come out and reveal myself to show him I was here and he didn’t have to be scared.
I forced myself not to. Even though I could hear the concern in his voice, the desperation. I refused to move.
He continued to pace, then he slowed.
“Evee, come out. Please. I know you’re here. There’s no use hiding, little rabbit.”
I tried not to breathe.
“I won’t hurt you. I’m not going to hurt you, Eve.”
I wanted to believe him. But I wondered what was really going through his head.
“I won’t…I won’t…” he said as he paced. “ Don’t say her name, ” he snarled.
One of the nasty bitches was trying to convince him to stick to the plan.
Everything was quiet as he went to the basement. But I expected he would return sooner or later to check again.
Still, I waited as long as I could.
I think I got an hour in before being curled up like I was became unbearable. I couldn’t move, all I could do was gaze around the dark. I started to feel awkward too like this was pointless, that eventually he was going to figure it out and find me.
And then there was the fear that had been in his voice. Whether I cared for it or not, it ate at me. The Emery I knew had slipped through again. Making me badly want to believe he meant what he said, that he really didn’t want to hurt me. He had even snapped back at his voices.
He hadn’t started a fire either which was a good sign. He was torn.
He could break away from their hold. He just needed a very good reason.
I could be that reason.
For all I knew, he had passed out downstairs, exhausted from little sleep. I could find another more comfortable place to hide.
I waited a little longer just to be sure. Listening for sounds coming from down below. I was afraid to move, but the pain was overpowering my fear. I could feel the knife jamming into my thigh, and if I were to move wrong, it might pierce the fabric and my skin.
I started to twist my body as I curled my fingers around the little sliding door. Carefully, I shimmied it apart until it slid back enough so that I could get out.
I pulled myself out, sliding free onto the dining room floor. My legs and arms ached so bad I winced as I tried to move them.
A shadow moved at the corner of my eye. When I turned my head, I thought my soul would fly out of my body. I tried to stand and bolt away as Emery came around the corner, but my legs gave out, and I fell, forced to crawl instead.
“So that’s how you did it,” he said, walking by the table toward me. He must have been waiting for me this whole time to come out. He had tricked me into thinking he had gone to the basement, but he had been waiting too.
He stilled by the gin cabinet and looked down. “That’s how you hid from me the first time. You are so smart, Evee.”
I pushed my arms and feet, scrambling away from him into the living room. “Or maybe I’m just an idiot.” He shrugged, following me. “I never even considered the—”
I pulled the knife out of my pocket and raised it to my throat. Emery shot down in that same moment and got on top of me, pinning me to the floor. His hand gripped my hand which gripped the hilt of the knife now poised between us.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said in a low, husky voice.
I tried to pull the knife away, but his strength was so beyond mine, he took it from me with ease and stabbed it into the floor just above me.
I laid there, breathless, heart pounding. Before he could say another word, I went for the knife again. He caught the fabric of my robe to pull me down, only for it to come undone.
I felt the cool air on my breasts as I lay back. He stilled, his eyes lowering to my throat and chest. To the necklace.
“I won’t burn here,” I whispered. My voice was steady even as my body trembled beneath him. “I won’t burn, not even with you. Take me as I am or not at all.”
He hardly moved.
I waited for him to make his choice.
A shadow slipped over his gaze but not like the kind I’d seen before. The way he stared at me made my body burn in a whole different way.
“Emery…”
He moved off me, and he ripped away the rest of the robe. His eyes devoured every inch of me, stopping on the long scar that went down along my thigh. His hand moved across it, trembling fingers trailing along my thigh. “Oh baby,” he groaned. “Poor sweet thing.” He shook his head as his hand gently gripped me. “God, Evee, you're so beautiful.” His other hand came to press along his temple, turned into a fist before dropping. “How could I ever hurt you?” His hand reached up to the necklace, tracing his fingers along the beads, then down to the heart. “I couldn’t,” he growled softly. “They wanted me to. But I can’t do it. I can’t. Even if you hurt me. I can’t.”
I bit my lip. “I swear I didn’t know about the necklace, Emery.”
He bent his head and exhaled a rough breath. “I got so scared when I couldn’t find you. I knew I didn’t give a shit anymore. I just needed to know you were safe. I blocked them out as best I could, thinking only of finding you.” His hand moved to my breast. “But I can’t stop this,” he said in a low voice. “Tell me, Eve, this is okay.” His thumb grazed along my nipple, hardening it, eliciting a delicious shudder. “Please, please, tell me this is okay.”
This was far from okay.
But I didn’t give a shit either.
I was on that sweet dark edge. This time, I jumped and gladly met the monster at the bottom. I arched against his hand and answered with a soft moan.
His hand lifted from me, only so he could unbutton his shirt and throw it off, revealing his chest and hard stomach, the V-line trailing to his groin. I hissed at the sight.
His hand went lower, down my stomach, then between my thighs and, heaven help me, I spread myself for him, unable to stop.
My pussy tightened and ached as two of his fingers slipped inside me while his thumb circled my clit excruciatingly slow.
I gasped sharply as I looked up at his smiling skull face in shock, seeing the fire in his gaze.
“You feel perfect, so perfect, baby,” he whispered. He slid his fingers in and out a few times as he circled, and my body shuddered, a whimper climbing up my throat. Fuck me, where did he learn to do that?
As he worked me, his other hand went to his zipper. He unzipped down passed his hips and I saw his hard cock against his stomach. Freeing himself, he gripped his cock in his fist. His fingers slid from me to slip underneath his mask, tasting me, and I saw the wild look in his eyes. I stiffened, bracing myself for him but he stilled and let out a low laugh.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Fuck, I’m not going to make it ten seconds,” he said.
“Don’t scare me like that.”
We looked at each other and started to laugh.
“I might be a little sorry for this, Evee, but I’ve fantasized about this too many times.” His hand pumped up and down, and his pre-cum dripped on me, on my thigh and just above my center, trickling down. “But not sorry enough,” he said in a guttural voice.
He stroked his cock several more times, then a low groan escaped him as his body shuddered. I felt the strips of hot cum along my stomach and across my breasts. It should have felt so dirty and wrong. With Emery, it didn’t.
And I liked that a little too much.
He shifted back over my legs, his gaze falling across my body again, now marked by him.
“This is unreal. I fell asleep and am dreaming and now I’m scared I’ll wake up to find you gone,” he said.
I licked my lips. “Maybe I’m sleeping too. I’ve had enough dreams like this that it might be true.”
His eyes darkened again. “Can’t taste in my dreams. Better be sure.” He spread my thighs, then lowered himself. He raised his mask above his face so that it settled on his head.
His lips were on me, his tongue swirling across my clit. A choking cry escaped up my throat. I sat up on my elbows and arched my back, throwing my hips against him. Staring at that damn skull, I felt myself tightening, the explosion of heat and pleasure consuming me. I moaned and whimpered, even pled. It was painful, so devastatingly painful. I rolled my hips, unable to stop myself. Then I saw his tongue plunging in me and I lost it.
Screaming, I came against his mouth.
When the waves swept through me, I hardly had time to react as he lifted himself, shoving his mask over his face. He pulled me from the floor, wrapping my legs around him. Picking me up, he almost slammed me against one wall by the front door. His breath was hard as he positioned me the way he wanted, lifting my legs, making me curl up against him as he crushed me against the wall.
As he gripped my thighs, he steadied himself, then pressed his cock to my center. I sucked in a breath as he plunged into me.
“Do you know how good you feel?” he whispered. As he pinned me with his hips to keep me in place, one hand gripped my knee while another encased my throat, jerking my face up to meet his. “You can’t escape this, Evee. Neither of us can, baby.”
He slid deeper, winding me up again. His body moved slowly at first as if he was savoring every single stroke. I whimpered again, like prey trapped in his claws. He quickened the more he saw my reaction, until he was driven out of his mind, slamming against me, pounding into me while pinning me to the wall. I could feel the wet heat between us as his hips hit my ass.
I felt how badly he’d wanted to let go, wanted to take me. He drove into me as my nails dug into his arms.
Breath for breath, body to body, he took everything he wanted from me.