Chapter 11 Aria #2
My mouth dries. No. There’s no way she’s part of any of this, or else he wouldn’t have left the cabin to answer her.
I assumed the previous calls were from that other guy, the blond.
Shivers crawl up my spine as I recall him.
But this whole time it could have been his girlfriend, and he was being cautious about her hearing me over the line.
A sudden knock at the door startles me, and my hand flings to rest over my chest. He just left a couple of minutes ago—it can’t be him. He also wouldn’t be knocking like this. The next knock is louder, and I immediately shoot up to my feet, my heart beating loud in my ears.
“Excuse me? Hello?” a muffled voice comes through the door.
That is definitely not him.
A stocky guy presses his palms against the dirty glass, fingers splayed to block the sunny glare as he squints to see what’s inside. He finds me idly standing, terrified and confused. He beams as he waves me over.
Is this another one of his friends? He looks a little older, his hairline receding and his stubble peppered with grey. I can’t ignore him as he waits for me to come closer. Am I being tested after what just happened with the SUV guy?
My skin prickles as I hesitantly walk to the door, dreading that this is the exact moment that I was left alone. He couldn’t have gone too far. He said he’d be just outside. So that does mean this is a test. He might be looming nearby, watching all of this unfold.
I reach for the doorknob and falter for just a moment before drawing in a deep breath and opening it, my gaze darting past the strange man, searching for anyone else. Nothing. He’s alone.
The man smiles as my eyes flutter back to him.
“Sorry to bother you, miss. I was just hoping that I could use your car to jumpstart mine. It’s a red Cadillac a few miles back.
Broke down on me, and there’s no service on my phone to call for backup.
I saw this cabin from down the hill and figured I’d hike up to see if I could find help. ”
“Oh, well…uh, that’s actually not my car,” I stammer, unsure how to respond or if I’m being watched.
After last time, I know damn well not to shoot myself in the foot by asking for help too quickly. Crap, did I already screw up by answering the door and talking to this man?
“Is the owner of the car inside?”
“Yes—I mean, no. Sorry, he just stepped out for a second.” Then, without thinking, I slip up and blurt, “Did you want to wait for him?”
His eyes drag down my body, slow and steady, making my skin crawl.
I regret ever asking. Of course he wouldn’t wait in the snow, you idiot. Now you just invited him inside.
His smile unsettles me as he glances over my shoulder. “That’d be great, thanks.” He pushes his way inside, brushing past me to get out of the cold.
Closing the door behind him, I feel my stomach twist, a wave of unease crawling up my spine. I don’t feel good about this, but what am I supposed to do now? This won’t take too long. I need to get ahold of myself.
Turning around, I spot him standing over the fireplace, extending his hands toward the flame to warm his fingers. Paranoia claws at me as I wait, motionless. Can it be possible that he’s just a random hiker?
He cranes his neck to get a better look around, his eyes drifting to the kitchen sink, then to the leather couch, before finally settling on the bed. The silence stretches for several awkward seconds before he asks, “Any idea how much longer until he gets back?”
“Soon,” I answer a little too quickly. His eyes settle on me, narrowing to watch my lips.
I fight the urge to bolt under his scrutiny.
He laughs, the sound rattling through me. “Are you sure about that?”
He steps toward me and I feel my panic begin to spiral. My eyes dart to the door, but there’s no trace of him back yet, and the dark glint in this man’s eye tells me he knows it.
Then I make one of the biggest mistakes you can make when confronted with a man like this.
I beg.
“Please…”
I inch backwards, unable to silence the alarm bells ringing in my head. This was a huge mistake. I feel it deep in my bones.
“Don’t worry.” He circles me like a hunter sizing up his prey. I can’t breathe. “We’re just talking. Nothing wrong with that, right?”
I’m not being paranoid. This isn’t just in my head.
I take another step back, but he keeps moving in.
“He’s going to be here any second.” I can’t keep the fear out of my voice. I barely recognize myself.
A sinister smile stretches over his stubbled face. Seconds later, I’m thrust onto the bed, landing on my side as the air is knocked out of my lungs. It happens fast, and I gasp as I pull myself up on my elbows and use my feet to kick at him, but he’s too big.
My vision blurs. He blocks every kick, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. My arms flail as I try to fight him off, but he pins them down with a frustrated grunt.
“Calm down,” he bites out. His sour breath makes me gag harder on my tears. I don’t even realize I’m crying.
“Please, stop.” I sob harder when he shoves his hardening bulge against me. Nausea rolls in my stomach. This can’t be happening. I can’t breathe.
“Say please again,” he says, smiling wide to showcase his crooked teeth before grinding into me again. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head instead.
Please. Please. Please.
Somebody. Anybody. Make it stop.
I cringe as his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking painfully on the knots. My muffled cries spill out louder.
“Pretty thing like you could show me a good time, isn’t that right? Make it worth the hike up here?”
I convulse beneath him, still trying to fight as he moves his hands from my hair to pin my arms down again once they slip free. I’m just not strong enough. My body rocks with violent tears, bracing myself for the worst.
“He’ll…kill you.” The last few words come out slurred, drowned out by my sobs.
The room spins, the walls caving in on me. It feels like I’m being crushed. I can’t move. I can’t scream. I can barely take in a proper breath.
His thin, hard lips slam into mine, a slimy tongue forcing its way into my mouth. It’s vile. I do the first thing that comes to mind, and I bite down on it.
He lets out an ungodly scream. “What was that for?! You fucking bitch!”
He backhands me, hard, but I’m numb to it. Then, he jerks me up by my hair and slams me to the ground like a rag doll, my teeth slicing through my lip on impact.
“We could’ve played at this nicely, but a slut like you wants it rough, huh?”
His body crashes over me, pinning me down as his hand tugs at my bottoms, granting himself access. I struggle beneath him, knowing it won’t do me any good, but I can’t let myself stop fighting.
Another slap smacks me hard. My head spins. A metallic tang coats my tongue, mixing with his foul taste. All I can do now is screw my eyes shut and pray it ends quickly.
“Listen, you dumb fucking bitch, I’m done playing nice,” he spits.
I don’t hear anything else after that. My mind shuts down. Maybe it’s self-preservation, or maybe survival instinct. Either way, I float somewhere else.
The pounding in my head is all I can hear, a heavy thrum that drowns out everything else. The rest of the noise fades into the background.
I only snap back when the weight is lifted off me, just in time before anything goes too far. His screams tear through the air, a pained, guttural sound that only grows to a prolonged shriek that threatens to snap his vocal cords.
The violent nature of it should scare me, but all I feel is relief. I can’t make sense of what’s happening to him through the chaos of his cries.
I sit up, disoriented. Red is the first thing I see.
Blood. There’s so much blood.
Looming over him are those stormy grey eyes, with fury unlike anything I’ve seen blazing in them. His chest heaves, feral and unrelenting, as he guts the man he’s pulled off me. Again and again. Until the cries finally die out.
My fingers tremble as I push myself off the ground. My legs wobble as I take in the crimson splattered across the room. He’s dead now. I’m pretty sure of it.
The numbness in my body fades, giving way to more silent tears. The salty droplets soak into my split lip, making them sting.
He walks over to me, raising his bloodied thumb to brush along my cheek, then lingering on my chin a moment too long.
I should be scared of him. Terrified. But I’m not.
“It’s over now,” he reassures me, his voice gentle.
My tears keep falling. “W-What happens now?”
I wrap my arms around myself, desperate to stop the tremors.
He lowers his arm, smudging a trail of blood and tears down my chin in the process. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of him.”
My heart pounds in that dangerously familiar rhythm. He looks indifferent to all the gore around us. I shudder, but not from him. I don’t judge him for killing that guy. I judge myself for wanting him to do it, for being happy that he did it.
He keeps his eyes trained on mine a moment longer than he needs to, like he knows I need the extra reassurance, somehow reading into me so well.
“Some people deserve to die, remember?”