Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
LILY
“Please.” The word tears from my throat, raw and desperate. “Sarah, please don’t do this. We can work this out. We can—”
Sarah cuts me off with that awful, unnatural laugh. Her fingers trail along the edge of the plastic sheeting covering the wall, almost lovingly. “You still don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about working anything out anymore.”
She moves toward the corner where she’s set up a makeshift station. My blood turns to ice as I watch her unroll a leather knife bag, the kind professional chefs use. Each slot holds a different blade, gleaming silver even in the dim light filtering through the plastic.
My heart plummets straight through the floor.
“I brought these from my kitchen at home.” Her voice takes on an almost dreamy quality as she runs her finger along the handle of a paring knife. “I’ve been planning this for weeks. Thinking about which ones would work best.”
“Sarah, no.” Terror makes my voice crack. I pull against the ropes so hard they slice deeper into my wrists, but I don’t care about the pain. Nothing matters except getting away from those knives. “Please, you don’t want to do this.”
She selects a six-inch boning knife, testing its weight in her palm. The blade catches what little light there is and the sharp tip steals my breath.
I have to try to get through to her. What do they say to do? Humanize yourself? I wet my lips, in dire need of water, and try to appeal to her again.
“Remember that lunch we had last month?” My words tumble out in a desperate rush. “At the café? You ordered the salmon salad and complained about how the dressing was too tangy, but then you ate every bite anyway because you said the company was too good to waste?”
Sarah pauses, her grip loosening slightly on the knife handle.
“You told me about your mom’s garden, how she grew those heirloom tomatoes you loved as a kid. You laughed so hard at my story about the client who wanted to buy a house because it matched his dog that you snorted coffee through your nose.”
For a moment, a fleeting torturous second, something human flickers in her eyes. The knife wavers in her hand.
Hope builds inside me. “We had fun that day, didn’t we?” I press on, clinging to that tiny spark of recognition. “Real fun. You said it was the best lunch you’d had in months. That has to mean something, Sarah. That connection we had—”
The knife comes up, pointed directly at my chest. My heart almost gives out right then and there. I’ve had a few tiffs with other women, assholes in high school, but nothing this serious and never with deadly weapons.
“Stop.” Her voice is sharp as the blade she’s holding. “Don’t try to manipulate me.”
Panic zaps through me. “I’m not! I’d never.” The words explode out of me. “What we had as friends was real. You don’t want to hurt me.”
She takes a step closer, and I swear I can see my reflection in the polished steel. She’s going to stab me. Kill me. It’s only a matter of seconds before that’s jammed deep in my body. Bile rises. I don’t want to die. I’m not ready. There’s so much I want to do.
FIGHT!
If only I could. My arms and legs are trapped. I’m completely at her mercy. She has to see me. Has to understand what she’s doing is wrong. “Wait!” The scream rips from somewhere deep in my chest. “Sarah, wait. Please don’t do this.”
“I have to.” But her voice shakes now, uncertain.
The last piece of thread dangled out as I struggle to hold on to a cliff. I grasp at it, praying that doubt will save me. “No, you don’t.” I lean forward as much as the ropes will allow. “You don’t have to do anything. This isn’t you, Sarah. This isn’t who you really are.”
She raises the knife, her arm trembling.
My bladder weakens. “Who’s going to take care of my mom if I’m gone?” The question bursts out of me, desperate and raw. “She’s all alone, Sarah. She doesn’t have anyone else. Please, if you ever cared about me at all, think about her. Think about what this would do to her.”
The knife freezes mid-air. Sarah’s face crumples for a moment, real anguish breaking through the madness.
She shakes her head. “But it’s too late.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “I’ve already done too much. There’s no coming back from this.”
“Yes, there is.” I seize on that hesitation again while full-body trembles threaten to undo me.
“Sarah, listen to me. It’s not–it’s not too late.
You could let me go right now, and I-I-I won’t tell anyone.
We can say someone else did this, that you saved me.
We can figure this out.” I pause then quickly add. “Together.”
Her eyes dart around the plastic-covered room, taking in the evidence of her careful planning. The knife shakes in her grip.
“I could disappear,” I continue, my voice trembling and pleading. “Move away. Start fresh somewhere else. You’d never have to see me again if that’s what you want.”
For one heart-stopping moment, I think she might actually consider it. The knife lowers slightly, and something that might be hope flickers in her expression.
Then the front door explodes inward with a crash that makes us both jump.
“Police! Put your hands up! Now!”
Oh thank god. Relief slams into me, horror quickly following. If they’re here, they’re intent on stopping her. There’s only one way this can end if she won’t listen to reason.
Sarah’s face contorts with panic and rage. She spins toward the door, knife still clutched in her fist, as officers pour into the room with guns drawn.
“Drop the weapon!”
“Get down on the ground!”
“Hands where we can see them!”
The shouted commands blend together in a chaos of noise that makes my head ache. Sarah backs away from the officers, face filling with panic before going blank again, disconnecting from full reality. Something is wrong.
“Don’t hurt her!” I scream, though I’m not sure why. She was about to kill me. Seeing her cornered and terrified doesn’t feel right though. “Please, she needs help!”
They don’t listen to me. Sarah isn’t listening to them. Her focus is wild, darting between the officers and me and the knife in her hand. She looks like a trapped animal. Almost feral.
“Sarah, put the knife down,” I plead. “It’s over. Just put it down and—”
She screams, a sound of pure anguish and fury, and rushes straight at the nearest officer with the blade raised high. I see it happen before they even fire. There’s no way she can take them all on with a knife. There’s no way they won’t shoot.
A cry claws out of my throat as gunshots burst in the room.
They’re deafening in the enclosed space.
Blood sprays through the air. Sarah collapses mid-stride, the knife clattering across the plastic-covered floor, and releases one final sound.
She hits the ground hard, head rolling until her lifeless eyes are staring at me.
Dead. She’s dead. Sarah is dead.
I choke on a sob, my entire body convulsing against the ropes. Fear and relief and grief crash into me all at once, too fast to process any of the emotions. She’s gone. Part of me is grateful that it’s over, but the other part mourns the woman I thought I knew.
Blood pools under her head, matting her blonde hair.
My stomach lurches violently. The adrenaline, the terror, the smell of gunpowder and copper combines into a toxic perfume that my gut can’t handle.
Before the officers can reach me to cut the ropes, I lean to the side and vomit until there’s nothing left but bile and shaking.
The officer’s hand hovers at my elbow as we step through the front door, but I barely register the contact. I’m already scanning the chaos of police cars and flashing lights, searching for the only faces that matter right now.
There.
A strangled sound escapes me and I’m running before I even realize my feet are moving.
“Lily!” one of the officers calls behind me, but I’m already launching myself forward.
Hudson, Cole, and Gage are running too, their long strides eating up the distance between us.
We collide in a tangle of arms and desperate embraces, all trying to hold on to each other at once.
Hudson’s strong arms wrap around my back while Cole crushes me against his chest, and Gage’s hand cups the back of my head like he’s afraid I might disappear again.
“Jesus, Red,” Cole breathes, his voice shaky. “We thought—”
“Don’t.” Hudson cuts him off, his grip tightening. “Don’t even say it.”
Gage pulls back just enough to frame my face with his hands, studying me with an intensity that makes my chest ache. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” The tremble in my voice says otherwise. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m okay, I promise.”
Cole’s thumb traces along my cheek, catching a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “You’re shaking.”
I am. My whole body is trembling like a leaf in a windstorm, the adrenaline finally crashing, careening toward the downward slope of a rollercoaster. “I was so scared I’d never see you guys again.”
“Hey.” Hudson’s voice is low and steady, the kind of calm that anchors me when everything else feels like it’s spinning out of control. “We’re here. You’re safe.”
“What happened in there?” Gage asks, his jaw tight. “We heard shouting and a gun shot.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the officer from earlier approaches our huddle, “but I need to inform you all that Sarah Dunn is dead.”
I saw it in her glassy stare right after they shot her, even still, the words gut me. The spoken truth makes it all the more real. All three of my guys go completely still.
“Sarah?” Cole’s voice cracks slightly. “She did this?”
“She had a knife.” Swallowing, I frown at the house. “She said we belonged together. She was the stalker.”
Hudson reaches for my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine in a grip that’s almost painful in its intensity. “She’s really dead?” Is it over?
The officer nods grimly. “Shot and killed during the altercation.”
We stand there for a moment, letting the truth sink in. Sarah, the woman I thought was a friend, stalked me. Tried to kill me because she was pissed I was dating the guys.
My forehead wrinkles as another thought occurs to me. “What about Matt? Was she working with him?”
“That’s difficult to determine at this point. We’ll need to interview him extensively and trace the laptop purchase to see if there’s any connection. For now, to ensure your safety, Matt is still being held. Once we can determine whether he was or wasn’t involved, that will determine his fate.”
The weight of everything crashes over me like a wave. My knees buckle slightly and Hudson immediately tightens his hold, keeping me upright.
“Whoa there.” His green eyes study my face with concern. “You’re crashing.”
Cole notices too, his features pinched with worry. “She needs to get out of here.”
“Are we free to take her home?” Gage asks the officer.
“You are. We’ll need statements from all of you tomorrow, but for tonight, get her some rest.”
The guys waste no time helping me toward Hudson’s truck. My legs feel like jelly, each step requiring more effort than it should. Cole keeps one hand on my lower back while Gage opens the passenger door. Hudson hovers close enough to catch me if I stumble.
As they help me into the truck, I find myself staring back at the house. Those moments where Sarah held the knife pull me under, and it’s like I’m tied to the chair all over again. Rope scraping my skin raw. Plastic crinkling as she comes closer. My stomach churns.
Cole climbs in beside me and immediately reaches for my hand, his fingers warm and reassuring as they squeeze mine.
Blinking, I wrench myself from the memory and exhale slowly, the terror that’s been gripping my chest finally starting to loosen its hold. The worst is over. I’m alive. I’m with the people I love most in the world.
Now I need to figure out what comes next.