Chapter 7
I pull the covers over my head and groan as the bright sun streams through the slit of my curtains. It feels like I just barely closed my eyes. How can it already be morning?
I blink the sleep-dust from my eyes a few times as memories from last night come flooding back. The maze. Punk. His fingers inside me.
As I roll over, I feel a thickness between my thighs. My muscles ache, and there’s a rawness in my pussy. What the fuck? I reach down to feel the sticky globs of cum that coat me from clit to taint. Fuck. It’s on the sheets too.
A whiff of musk wafts to my nose when I sit up.
Oh god. I bolt out of bed and run to the mirror.
My skin is pink and blotchy. Bite marks mar my nipples.
A shiver dances up my spine as I glance around the room.
It looks mostly untouched except for my chair.
It’s next to the door instead of at my desk.
I know I didn’t move it last night before I went to bed.
I pinch my eyes shut and take a deep breath. My dreams are scrambled. They were erotic. Carnal. I did play with myself before drifting off, but this is more. I didn’t cum that much.
I throw on my blue furry robe as I glance back at the messy bed. My stomach knots. There’s something on the bedside table that wasn’t there before. I creep up to it slowly as if it were a bomb.
“Fuck,” I breathe out. Chills sweep my entire body. Next to my lamp lies a bloody doll mask. “What in the actual fuck?”
With trembling fingers, I pick up the note lying next to it.
This belongs to you, little killer. I won’t let you forget what we did that night. See you soon, love. XOXO, Punk.
I recognize the mask the more I stare at it. I can’t place it, but I know it’s mine. I can see the inside of a trailer as I peer through the eyeholes. I remember the spray of blood, the metallic smell that invaded my nose when it splattered. I can almost taste it on my tongue.
Fuck.
Maybe he’s not lying after all. But why would I kill my stepdad?
I almost answer my own question when my imagination starts to run wild.
He must have done something awful to me.
The conversation with Mama replays in my mind.
I stabbed him once when I was a teenager.
I did time for it. Now, according to this, it looks like I went back and finished what I started.
Am I a monster or a traumatized girl who gave a sick man the ending he deserved?
“You have fun last night with Cherry?”
I jump.
Mama idles in the doorway. I’m not sure how long she’s been standing there gawking at me.
I dart in front of the bedside table, hoping she hasn’t spotted the mask. “I learned I don’t like corn mazes. Kind of a stupid thing to do for fun on a Friday night if you ask me.”
She crosses her arms and huffs. “You too good for all that now? Cherry’s done real well for herself since you left. She owns Level Up—that arcade you two used to spend every weekend at. But I’m sure that ain’t fancy enough for you.”
Her tone is so fucking sour it hurts my ears. “Are you enjoying dishing out bits of my life to me like you’re spoon-feeding a baby?” I snap back.
She snickers. “Now there’s that foul mouth I’m used to. The doctor said not to overload you with too much. Sorry for caring about your mental health.”
Something tells me this woman hasn’t cared about anything but herself for a long time. “Well, I think I should go back home then. That’s where my memories are.”
Her eyes narrow. “You are home, Roxanne. Might be a different house now, but Crimson Valley is where you were born and raised. Ain’t no better place to be to try and remember yourself.”
I blow out a breath, annoyed with how she talks to me.
Like I’m still a teenager bound to her rules.
“And what if who I was here isn’t who I am anymore?
I had a life in Lavender Heights, a job, friends, and a boyfriend.
” That much I do know. The fact that I haven’t been back home in eight years tells me enough.
She snickers. “Oh, right. The boyfriend. You mean the psycho who attacked a nurse and destroyed your hospital room while you were in a goddamn coma? He was brainwashing you, Rox. Controlling you. The accident was a blessing. You might not have ever gotten away from him.”
A sharp pain shoots up my spine and travels up to the side of my head. I stagger toward the bed and sit down. My pulse races as I fight the urge to vomit.
“Y-you don’t know that. Maybe he was just scared. He thought I was going to die,” I mutter through a deep breath.
Her gaze hardens without any trace of empathy for the fact that I’m doubled over in pain.
“I know enough. The filth you had on your phone… his texts and pictures. Disgusting. I didn’t raise you to be a whore, Roxy.
You can do whatever you want when I’m dead, but as long as I breathe, you will be the upstanding Christian woman I taught you to be. ”
My mouth is dry and stars dust my vision. Pure rage runs through my veins as she tries to poison my ears with her bullshit. In just the few days I’ve been trapped in this hell, I’ve heard her lie to Earl, watched her drink herself into a stupor at breakfast, and gaslight me, her only daughter.
I grit my teeth as I glare back at her. “You don’t get to decide my life. I’m a grown woman. And you had no right to go through my phone.”
She laughs, her shoulders shaking as her whole body seems to be in on the joke. “The court order I have says otherwise. The judge took one look at your criminal history and signed it without batting an eye.”
Here we go again. Fuck. “You never told me why I stabbed Hank. He must have done something to provoke me. Something bad.”
Her face turns bright red like one of those cartoon villains about to explode.
“Because you were a menace. You were an ungrateful brat who never did what you were told. He didn’t want to press charges, but I made him.
To teach you a lesson. That you can’t just go around stabbing people when you don’t get your way. ”
My blood is boiling, which isn’t helping the pressure in my head. “Why do you even want me here? You clearly can’t stand me.”
“That’s not true. I’m still your mama whether you like it or not. This is for your own good. You’ll see.” She spins on her heel and slams the door behind her as she leaves.
I flinch, the loud bang reverberating through my skull. “Fuck,” I whisper.
After taking a long hot shower and popping two pain pills, my headache finally dissipates. I drag my duffel bag onto the bed and tear through it, praying that Juniper put something inside to jar my memory.
I yank out all my clothes and toss them into a pile on the floor, my fury resurfacing. I can’t believe I came out of that woman’s womb. She’s mean, nasty, and clearly the reason I moved out of this town all those years ago.
As I rummage through the side pockets, my hand touches something smooth and tear-drop-shaped. My mouth gapes open when I pull out the glass butt plug. A wave of heat floods my neck and chest.
I blink a few times, my heart pounding. An image flashes through my head. I’m on all fours, my legs spread wide. He is behind me, pushing this into my ass. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s him. His musky scent invades the space between us. My whole body tingles as I beg him to go deeper.
Oh god.
I blow out a deep breath and drop the butt plug back into the bag. “Fucking hell. What kind of shit was I into?”
I find a stack of papers in another side pocket. I smile at the list of passwords. Finally. Now I can get into all of my accounts. I can find out more about me. But another piece of paper slips out in between them, sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins.
It’s a letter from Punk.
My fingers tremble around the edges of it.
Hey, pretty girl. I hope we are reading this together back at our home in Lavender Heights.
But if not, know this: I will never give up on us.
I will never stop loving you. And I will never let you go.
You promised to always be mine, and I won’t let you break that.
You might be confused and scared, but I’m the only one who can keep you safe.
The only one who can make your soul and body come alive.
I’m your breath and your heartbeat, the adrenaline that’s running through your veins right now as you read this.
I’m the ache between your legs and the shiver in your spine.
I will never be whole without you. So I’m coming for you, Roxy Luna.
I’m coming for you like a fucking hurricane. See you soon. Forever yours, Punk.
Fuck. Me. He’s never going to stop. And I’m not sure if I want him to.
I need to see his face. I can almost picture it, but it’s fuzzy.
I’m so close I can almost taste him. Smell him.
Feel his strong arms wrapped around me. Just like in the corn maze.
He knew how to provoke me. It’s as if he’s mapped out my body like constellations, knowing exactly which spots to press to shatter me like stardust.
I shake my head as I flip my laptop open. Get your shit together, Rox. I type in the four-digit code from my password list and do a little shoulder shimmy when it works.
The home screen has several folders. I click on one labeled Vinyl Delights and scroll through. There are receipts, inventory records, and lists of records. Nothing too exciting here.
Next, I click on the folder titled Medical. It’s loaded with X-rays of my leg. But this is dated years before the accident. The doctor mentioned my bum knee, but no one explained what caused it.
I send Juniper a text.
Did I injure my knee before the accident?
She responds after a few minutes.
Yeah, you tore your ACL when you were dancing for LHU. That’s how you lost your scholarship.
My stomach tightens. I close my eyes and try to picture the room. I can see the mirrors, the balance beams, and the mats. I shudder as the memory vanishes as quickly as it came.
Thank you.
The typing bubbles appear for a while before her next reply pops up.
If you want to know more, I can tell you. But be careful, Rox. If you dig too deep, too fast, you might give yourself an aneurysm.
My hands tremble over the phone. With each snippet of my past that returns, my headaches get worse. But I have to know everything. Even if it kills me.
I can handle it. Tell me everything you know. Please.
By the time we get off the phone, I’ve walked so far away from Mama’s house, I don’t remember the way back. But the crisp autumn air feels like heaven on my skin. I feel like I can breathe easier despite the hot mess of information Juniper shared with me.
It turns out I’m a magnet for trouble.
She told me about my dance injury and how my college boyfriend left me for another girl on the team when I lost my scholarship. She told me about the record store, the gamer bar, and the night I got assaulted. The man who attacked me died that night, and it was ruled a suicide.
But all the hairs on the back of my arms rose to attention when she said the last part.
That it was the same night I met Punk. Well, technically, he was stalking me, so we didn’t actually meet.
But he was at Joystick that night. Our coworkers, Coast and Milo, both saw him leave out the back door of the bar.
She then went on to tell me how Punk hunted me like a psycho but that I liked it. That she’s never seen me so happy. Maybe I was so starved for attention that I rationalized his behavior. How else could someone fall in love with their stalker?
Walking toward the tree line, my sneakers crunching over piles of brown and gold leaves, I admire how the houses are spread out. It gives the people living inside them the kind of space they can lean into, and a sense of peace you can’t get in the city.
I take my time, checking out all the Halloween decorations. Each house tries to outdo the other. It’s a nice distraction.
The road leads me up a hill, winding in and out of the thick foliage like it might disappear completely. I know I should turn back before I get even more lost, but maybe getting lost is exactly what I need…
The twinge in my leg intensifies as the incline gets steeper. The doctor said it would be good for me to exercise, but I think she meant something light like swimming. Whatever. I’ll take anything over being stuck in that house with Mama.
When I finally reach the top, my stomach knots. Panic thrums through my veins.
Oh shit.
I’m at the fucking murder house.
It’s not an ominous-looking house. With its 1970s-esque paint job, perfectly manicured lawn, and pristine mailbox, it looks like every other one I passed on the way up. But it’s the aura around it. The energy it exudes. I don’t need Mama to tell me that bad things happened here. I can feel it.
A shadow flickers in my peripheral. My stomach drops, and I take three slow steps back. Fuck. This place is supposed to be empty. Maybe it’s haunted. No fucking way am I sticking around to find out. I don’t need ghosts on my already full bingo card right now.
As I back up, terrified to make any sudden movements, I slam into a wall of muscle. The scent of musk wafts around me.
I freeze.
A strong arm snakes around my waist. “Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.”
Fuck.
He whispers in my ear, “Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after…”
“Punk.”
He lets me go for a split second, and I slip out of his grasp. A familiar rush of excitement, mixed with fear, rushes through me. My heart pounds in my chest. Adrenaline kicks in. And I make a run for it.