Chapter 23 Megan #2
I would keep shooting until I hit him. The thought is horrific but satisfying. I would do it for Amber even if it meant that I spent the rest of my life in prison. Gio would take care of her. He would do that for me.
But it’s a futile thought. Instead, I must sit here and wait for him to go ahead and do whatever he came here to do.
A sob catches in my throat, and I smother my mouth with my hand.
“Amber.” The voice chills the temperature inside the carton, and I can’t stop the shivers taking over me. “Amber, it’s Daddy. Why don’t you come out and say hello?”
My lips work silently.
Please don’t move, Amber. Don’t listen to him. Please, baby, stay right where you are like I told you.
“I know you’re here, Amber.”
The lilting voice is making me gag. It’s the same voice I remember from when he lived with us, when my mom convinced herself that she was in love with him, but different.
It’s slimy like a serpent, slithering around the basement and sniffing out its target.
Filled with venom. It belongs to someone who would do unspeakable things to get what they want.
What kind of monster is he? How could he do this to his own daughter, knowing how terrified she is? How did he ever fool my mom into believing that he was a decent human being?
“Okay, you want to play, Amber? I can play.”
Something rustles. A faint sound as though he’s kicking the discarded clothes around the floor. A crash. Splintering wood.
I try to track his movements, but it’s impossible from my hiding place.
A bang on the side of the box makes me jump. He’s throwing stuff around now, using it to flush us out, baiting the trap ready to pounce the instant one of us moves.
Amber must still be hiding. She is doing exactly what I asked her to do, but now that he’s here, I realize that I have no way of knowing if he finds her or not. He could clamp a hand over her mouth to stop her from crying out and kidnap her while I’m sitting here oblivious to what’s going on.
Was this a mistake?
Should I have climbed into the box with her despite the risk of him finding us?
He’s going to find us anyway.
The realization settles inside my gut like a slug making itself at home.
He knows that we’re here. He came for us, and he won’t leave until he has finished whatever it is that he started when he tracked us to LA.
But worse than this, I’ve left Amber in a box inside a dark, dank basement to face the scary monster alone.
I’m out of options. I thought that Gio and Ric and even the guy upstairs with the bald patch on the top of his skull would keep us safe, but they haven’t.
So, now it’s down to me.
I close my eyes briefly. I wish I’d gotten the chance to tell Gio how I feel about him. I wish I could explain to Amber that what I’m about to do, I’m doing because I love her; I pray that she will understand someday, when she’s older.
Deep breath.
I stand up and face our mom’s killer.
He’s lurking in the middle of the dark basement like a pervert, a sinister grin on his face when his eyes meet mine.
He isn’t how I remember him. He’s shorter, stockier, as though his body has spread over the last five years like butter left out of the fridge. He produces a flashlight from somewhere and shines it in my face, forcing me to shield my eyes with the flat of my hand.
When the glare starts to fade, he is closer. Like the weeping stone angels in the episode of Doctor Who that move every time you blink. My heart is freaking out, but I refuse to let him see that I’m afraid.
I force myself to study his face. His features are heavier, more pronounced, with deep gouges across his forehead and either side of his mouth.
There are no laughter lines; these are marks borne from something altogether more sinister, and I’m glad.
He doesn’t deserve to laugh or smile or love.
It reinforces my belief that karma will come for him one day.
“Megan, you’ve grown.” He reaches out to touch my hair, and I bat his hand away with my fist.
“Don’t touch me.”
His lips curve upwards, and another shudder rips through me. “You always were the feisty one.”
That’s bullshit. He didn’t spend enough time in my company to learn the slightest thing about me. “What do you want?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He peers around the basement, blinking, in an exaggerated posture of proving his point. “I want what’s mine.”
I ignore the dread pooling inside my stomach. “You own the thrift store?”
“Ha!” he snorts. “Did you learn nothing from your mother?”
Without warning, he has a gun in his hand, and a bullet hits the wall behind me, sending jagged stone chips flying all around. One hits the back of my head, and I flinch, reflexively inspecting the damage with my fingertips.
“Amber! Come out!” The sing-song voice has turned cold and brittle.
“She isn’t here,” I say loudly enough for Amber to hear. “Did you honestly think that I would let you have her? You don’t care about her. You’ve never even—”
I don’t finish. Another bullet whistles past my head, and this time, I duck. It ricochets off the stone wall and I pray that it will hit him straight through the skull; I even picture the tiny red hole, oozing blood. But luck isn’t on my side tonight.
“Amber! Get the fuck out here now before I kill your sister.”
“Amber, don’t listen to him!” I scream and lunge at him, my nails scratching his arm before his free fist collides with the side of my head.
I hear a scream as I hit the wall. The world goes black momentarily, and when I open my eyes again, I’m on the floor. Tiny silver stars spiral in front of my eyes, and my head feels like it’s inside a pinball machine, but I can still hear the screams.
They’re not coming from me.
I wait for the room to come into focus. The shrill sounds fill my head and bring hot, stinging tears to my eyes. But I force myself to my feet.
Amber is standing upright inside the carton, her pale face scrunched up with fear, her mouth wide open to let the screams out.
“Amber, it’s okay.” I reach out a trembling hand in her direction, but she doesn’t stop.
She can’t hear me. Panic has gotten hold, and she won’t calm down now until I hold her in my arms and talk to her. Sing. Tell her a story. Prove to her that monsters aren’t real and that good always triumphs over evil.
I step closer, and he fires again, the bullet going straight through my foot.
I collapse into a heap on the floor, folding in on myself to contain the white-hot pain messing with my brain.
Blood is pumping from the hole in my fucked-up foot.
I mean, I always thought blood would trickle from a bullet wound, but this…
This isn’t a trickle, and the brown-red spatters on the floor feel like tiny drops of my life dripping through the cracks, never to be seen again.
“Meggie!” Amber screams.
She tries to climb out of the carton and ends up tipping it over, sprawling forward with renewed shrieks into a pile of garments.
I crawl towards her. The pain is like a beacon flashing inside my head, but I focus on reaching Amber before he touches her. On my knees, I pull her against me, noting with horror that there is blood on my hands. How did that happen?
Amber’s screams scrape the inside of my ears. She fights me off, terrified because she witnessed what happened, and I force myself to hold on tightly and talk to her.
She needs me.
I’m the only one who can save her.
“Listen to me, Amber.” My teeth are chattering with the pain. My jaw feels numb. The pain is on-off-on-off, pulsing like morse code. But none of these things matter. “I’m alright, Amber. I’m still right here with you like I promised.”
Her screams are growing hoarse, but I have no idea if she can hear me.
“Shut her up!” he yells, swinging the arc of bright light our way.
I ignore him. My teeth snap together like a mousetrap. Click-clack-click.
“Amber, please listen to me.” I can’t feel my mouth; I’m not even sure if the words are coming out right, but I keep going. “I’m still here. Please, stop screaming, baby. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You believe me, don’t you?”
She stops struggling. Her screams are growing hoarse, and I’m worried that she’ll have a sore throat tomorrow. I didn’t bring Ibuprofen. If she gets a fever, I don’t have any medication to give her, and this vacation was supposed to be fun…
“I’m going to count to three,” his voice drowns out my spiraling thoughts. “If you don’t shut her up, I’ll do it for you, and I don’t think you’re going to like it if that happens.”
“Amber!” I grip her upper arms and shake her.
It shocks her into a lull between hoarse painful sobs, and I cover her head with my arms, hoping that she’ll focus on my heartbeat instead of the fucker who wants to take her away from me.
Then, trembling violently, I drag my gaze upwards to face him. “Sh-she’s quiet. L-leave her here and t-take me.”
Gio will find her here. I don’t know how long it will take, but at least she’ll be safe.
“Nice try, but you’re not the reason I’m here.”
“P-please,” I whisper. “P-please don’t hurt her. She’s j-just a ch-child.”
“She’s j-just a ch-child,” he mocks me, his face twisted into an ugly sneer. “You didn’t let me finish, Megan. You’re not the reason I came here, but since you’re so determined to get in my way, I figure I can use you to get what I want.”
“Wh-what you w-want?”
“I would elaborate, but we’ve already wasted too much time.” He swings the arc of light towards the staircase. “Get her up there without making any noise.” He orders. “Unless you want me to do it.”
He knows I have no choice. I’m not letting him take Amber without me.
It takes all my strength to stand up, but I manage it somehow.
Amber leans against me and, together, we limp up the staircase, his gun pressed to the back of my skull.