Chapter Four #2
I gripped the knob, pushing into the door like my small ass had the remote possibility of forcing it open. The door moved slightly but didn’t open. But that told me what I needed to know. He hadn’t locked the deadbolts, only the main lock.
What a rookie.
For the first time in days, I smiled. There was hope. Very little, but it was there. I leaned down and examined the lock. It was one of those ones with the tiny pinhole. An idea hit me, and I ran back to the living room and dug through my backpack.
Paperclip in hand, I peeked through the window again to make sure Valen wasn’t on his way back. Luckily, he was still unlocking his shed. The doors swung open, and I could see the glimpse of a snowmobile.
That little sneak. He’d said there was no way off this mountain. A snowmobile would definitely get me where I needed to go.
But first, I needed to try to get in that room.
I gripped the pathetic little paperclip, rolling my eyes at myself.
“This is stupid,” I muttered as I kneeled so I was eye level with the knob. Suddenly I was regretting laughing at the YouTube clip of the man showing how to jimmy these types of locks.
I twisted the wire, jammed it inside and wiggled it around. My palms were sweaty. Valen could come back at any second and catch me trying to break into his room. What would he do? Would he really tie me up? I said a silent prayer that I wouldn’t ever have to find out.
This is hopeless. I should stop before he finds me.
One second I was pressing and wiggling the wire, the next I gasped at the sudden click. My heart raced as I eased the door open.
I didn’t know what I’d been expecting. Maybe a torture room. Hell, at this point a sex dungeon would have been less disturbing.
But what I found inside took my breath away.
The room was windowless and cold. It smelled of fresh ink and wood. Off to the side was a neat desk with a laptop and a lamp, and in the corner a cushioned recliner, like he needed to be extra comfy to plan my destruction.
But the wall was what made my knees almost give out.
A floor-to-ceiling collage of photos, newspaper clippings, maps and other documents. All were pinned in an organized manner, and all were orbiting around one thing.
Me.
My face stared back at me from half a dozen different angles. Trial photos, screenshots from college, even a still frame from an interview I’d done with Barbara Walters.
I flicked on the lamp, the glow lighting up the room. Red strings connected some of the pictures, and there were notes scrawled in a crisp, masculine handwriting. God, it was fucking creepy seeing it all in one place. Not just the murder board—but the obsession behind it.
This wasn’t just revenge. This was a shrine. Dark and twisted.
I stepped closer, my gaze landing on a photo pinned high up. It was folded in half, only showing Valen. I’d seen this photo before.
It was the same photo Detective Parsons had shown me, the one that had started this lie years ago. He’d said, “We arrested the contractor. His name is Valen Creed. He’s the one who killed your friends and hurt you.”
Of course I hadn’t questioned what he’d said. Courtney had said it was the contractor. Parsons had said the contractor had the scar. Parsons had shoved his photo in my face so many times I’d dreamt of him for years. How could I have known it was all a lie?
The only thing that hadn’t made sense was what Courtney had said.
My mind raced as I looked around the room. The only place my gun could be was in the desk. I yanked on the drawers. All of them were locked except one.
Inside were a stack of unsealed envelopes, all with my name on them.
There had to be over a hundred of them. My fingers trembled as I opened the first letter and pulled it out.
I scanned through it, the handwriting the same as the notes on the wall.
My heart hammered in my chest at the words on the bottom.
I’m going to destroy you.
The hatred seeped from the paper like poison. The rock in my stomach grew to the size of a boulder, my entire body shaking. Six years of rage were in these letters, probably all promising to torture and kill me. It was like holding love letters from hell.
The wall. The letters. Me being the reason he got locked up. There was no way he was going to let me go without hurting me, so I had to make sure I got to him first.
The slam of the shed doors made me jump and I raced to turn off the light and leave the room, making sure I locked the door. I went straight for the bathroom and leaned my back against the door. Less than a minute later, Valen came stomping down the hall. A moment later, he tried turning the knob.
“A little privacy, geez,” I yelled through the door, keeping my voice as steady as possible. I paced the small space in the bathroom, ice running through my veins.
You can do this. Just go out there and be your normal, charming, dysfunctional self. Don’t let him know you know. Don’t give him a reason to hurt you. Just play along.
Lucky for me, I was good at wearing a mask. I’d been doing it for six years.
OK, new plan. Get the keys, steal the snowmobile, and get the hell out of here before whatever twisted plan he has takes shape.
He might think he had a reason to want me dead, and I couldn’t blame him. But six months ago, I’d made a vow. If I was going to die, it would be taking my friends’ killer with me. And that wasn’t Valen.
I splashed cold water on my face and neck and smiled at my reflection in the mirror. For a second, I almost saw her again—the girl who sang off-key in dorm hallways, who danced in the rain, who believed she had a whole future ahead of herself.
Then I blinked and she disappeared. In her place was a woman filled with rage, with only one purpose left.
End the monster who had started all of this.
And if Valen thought I was going to wait around for him to destroy me, he was dead wrong.
I’d survived one monster already.
I could survive him too.