Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
There’s a knock at my front door, and I rush over to open it. The same two officers stand before me, and I invite them inside. “It’s about time y’all got here,” I huff, irritated at the response time. “I’d be dead by now if someone were trying to kill me.”
“We’re sorry, ma’am. We’ve actually been meaning to come back out here, but the roads have been slick with ice. It’s been difficult to get out here. Cell service has been spotty. You’re lucky you were able to make the call.”
“Do you have news?” I ask, forgetting about why I called them in the first place.
“We got in touch with the local police station over in your city. They went and talked with your fiancé, ma’am. He’s not left the city since you’ve been here and was able to provide an alibi.”
At the word ‘alibi’, my stomach coils. I know exactly what, or rather, who his alibi was.
“That’s exactly why I called you. I know who it was.
He was here, in my cabin. He helped me in the woods.
I was almost attacked by a pack of wolves, but he saved me and carried me back to the cabin.
He admitted he was the one who wrote the note.
You have to go arrest him, please! I don’t feel safe!
” My words are going a mile a minute, unsure if they were even able to keep up.
“You met a man in the woods? And he admitted to writing the note?” Officer Jefferson asks in confusion.
“Yes!” I yell. “He said he lives in the next cabin just through the woods. He heard my screams and came running.”
They both stare at me blankly before Officer Hilton says, “The next cabin?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said!” I yell again, throwing my hands up in the air.
“Ma’am, there is no cabin after yours. Your cabin is the last before it stretches into nothing but woods for the next 10 miles before the next city.”
Suddenly, it feels like the whole world fades away into the distance. My vision tunnels and my heart rate spikes so suddenly, I don’t have any chance to control my breathing before I begin hyperventilating.
“Ma’am, calm down. Breathe. You’re okay. Sit down here,” Officer Hilton directs, taking me over to the couch. “Now put your head between your legs. There you go, that’s it. Slow your breathing.”
My vision slowly returns, and my heart rate begins to calm.
“If you’d like, we can do another check. We’ll even do a perimeter sweep around the treeline. Otherwise, it might be best for you to pack up a few things and stay at the motel in town.”
“But,” I whisper. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. I… I don’t want to wake up on Christmas in a motel…” My eyes begin to well with tears, feeling utterly defeated about salvaging what little I can of my favorite holiday.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re a bit short-staffed today, as I’m sure you can guess. We don’t get much trouble out here. I can have a few guys swing out this way every few hours just to check in, but I’m afraid there’s not much we can do.”
I hang my head in my hands. “Fine, just please do your search. Whatever that entails.”
“As you wish, ma’am,” Officer Hilton says, tipping his hat.
They both spend the next hour searching every inch of the house as well as the tree line surrounding the outside of the cabin.
They left nothing untouched, and I felt grateful for the comfort it brought that at least he isn’t hiding anywhere near the cabin right now.
When they’ve both completed their search, they return to the cabin.
It’s nearing 6pm at this point and beginning to get dark.
“Everything is normal, ma’am. Again, I would strongly urge you to pack a few things and head into town to stay.
We just got word that another storm is rolling through tonight.
I know I said I’d have a few patrol cars come and check on things, but that won’t be possible with the storm now.
We’re supposed to be getting twelve feet of snow with this one. ”
“I appreciate the offer, gentlemen. But I think I’ll be staying here. I’m not going to be chased from my cabin on Christmas.”
“I’ll have someone come out here and check on you as soon as I can.
If not myself. You have a nice night, ma’am,” Officer Jefferson states.
They both give a tilt of their hats and walk out, leaving me alone once again.
I don’t know if I’m making the right decision or not, but I’m not leaving.
This is my fucking cabin, and I’m not going anywhere.
The next hour seems to fly by, and I breathe a sigh of relief when nothing of significance happens.
A fire burns in the fireplace, and I’m lying on the couch, watching my favorite Christmas movie, having found some old DVDs in the basement and getting lucky that the DVD player still works, when there’s a sudden knock on the door.
My heart skips a bit, and there’s a sudden pit in my stomach.
Then, there's another knock. The storm hasn’t begun yet, so I get up and make my way over to the door, thinking it’s one of the officers making a final check before it starts getting crazy outside. When I open the door, my face pales.
“Liam, what are you doing here?” I ask, shocked.
“Had an interesting conversation with the police department. They came knocking, asking if I’ve been leaving you notes at the cabin.
What the fuck, Ella?” he says, barging in, not bothering to wait for an invite inside.
I close the door in annoyance, slamming it a bit louder than I intended.
“What happened to your face?” he adds, taking off his jacket.
“I scratched it in the woods. You’re not welcome here, Liam. I need you to leave,” I say angrily.
“You need to explain, Ella. What the fuck do they mean by leaving you notes?”
“I had a note left in the cabin the first night I was here. It’s not a big deal, and it’s been resolved.
Now please, get the fuck out.” I feel my blood pressure rising.
Just his presence is triggering enough. The last time I saw him, he was balls deep in my best friend.
“You wouldn’t want to keep Kaci waiting,” I add, adding a hint of sass.
“Enough, Ella. I told you it was a mistake. You don't need to be a bitch about it. She was there, and I needed someone,” he deadpans.
“Fuck you, Liam,” I spit. “You fucked my best friend of fifteen years. You might as well have fucked my sister.”
“Yeah, well, don’t tempt me. You’re pissing me off so much that I just might do that,” he seethes.
“FUCK YOU,” I scream. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”
A sharp sting blooms across my face as my head is whipped to the side, and my hand comes up to cover it. I look back at him in shock, realizing exactly what he just did. He’s never hit me before.
“Stop being a fucking cunt, and stop fucking talking to me like that, bitch!” he screams. “I’m not doing this with you. Pack your shit. We’re going home.”
Rage burns in my eyes, and I steel myself. I won’t be treated like this by any man. “No,” I state calmly. “I’m not going anywhere with you, and if you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops.”
“Oh, please. It’s about to storm. I checked the weather before driving out here. They won’t make it before we’re snowed in, which is also why you need to hurry the fuck up. We need to move quickly.”
“I don’t know what part of no you’re not fucking understanding, but I’m not going anywhere, and certainly not with you.” I glare at him, almost in a dare. He moves suddenly, and before I have a chance to react, he grabs me by the back of the hair, yanking my head backward.
Leaning into my ear, he growls, “Get your shit and let’s get the fuck out of here, or I’ll drag you out of this cabin with nothing.
Your choice.” He lets me go, throwing me backward.
“Got anything to eat right quick? I’m starving.
Been driving like a maniac just to get here.
” He moves to the fridge before grabbing some cottage cheese from the top shelf.
He pulls the foil tab off the unopened container and goes to throw it away, but stops abruptly.
Putting the cottage cheese down on the counter, he bends down, pulls the crumpled piece of paper out of the trash bin, and unfolds it.
“How did I taste?” he reads aloud, looking up at me with eyes devoid of anything but anger. “Is this what the cops were talking about? You’ve been fucking someone already?!” he seethes, his voice getting louder. My mouth drops open at his audacity.
“If I were, it would be none of your fucking business, Liam. Or have you forgotten that I found you balls deep in my best friend 48 hours ago? You have no right to dictate what I’m doing at this point. We’re done! Over. Our engagement is off. You don’t have rights to my life anymore.”
“We’ll see about that,” he growls, sprinting in my direction. I go to move quickly, but wince in pain when my ankle tweaks at the quick pivot. He grabs me and throws me on the couch.
“I’ll show you who owns this pussy,” he spits. His face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead. He pins me down and begins unbuttoning his jeans.
“No! Please don’t do this!” I shout, but he slaps me across the face again.
Stars dance in my vision from the blow, and I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but it’s no use.
After working his button free and pulling himself out of his pants, he begins working on mine.
I do the only thing I can think of. I play along.
“Wait!” I whisper, pleading. “Please, just kiss me first.”
He smirks, staring down at me before I whisper another ‘please.’
He leans in, his eyes closing slowly, and I use this moment to make my move.
I slam my head forward, making contact with his nose with my forehead, and the resounding crunch is so satisfying.
He grabs his nose, releasing me, as he goes to instinctively grab it.
Blood rushes down his nostrils and onto his hands, dripping down onto me in the process.
He leans back, and I feel the weight of him shift just enough that I catch him off guard when I pull my good leg out and kick him in the chest, sending him flying backward and onto the ground.
I use this moment to run, limping as much as I can through the pain in my ankle.
I make it up a few steps before he’s on me, grabbing my hair again.
I kick out a leg and make contact with him again, this time in the groin. He releases me and hunches over.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH. I’M GONNA KILL YOU,” he screams.
I finally make it upstairs, turning the corner to my bedroom and slamming the door behind me, locking it as quickly as I can.
I move anything I can to block it—the nightstand, the chest of drawers, and the small bookshelf.
I look around, trying to find my cell phone before I remember it’s downstairs.
Loud booms blare across the wooden door, and I jump, fear beginning to overtake me at the lack of options I have. More pounding rings out on the door.
“Let me in, Ella! Open the fucking door right now, or I’m gonna make it so much worse for you.”
“I’ve called the cops! They’re on the way! You should leave now before they get here!” I scream back, trying to steady my voice to show as little fear as possible. I need to make him believe me.
“Oh yeah? With what phone? I have your cell phone,” he says, and the way his words come out tells me he’s grinning, knowing I’m bullshitting.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper frantically, pacing the floor.
The pounding begins again, and I hear him jiggle the knob. “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, ELLA. OR EL—”
His words are cut off, and it’s suddenly silent outside.
I’m frozen in place, anticipating the next boom on the door, but after five minutes of just standing here and staring at it, it never does.
Curiosity gets the best of me—the need to know what happened in order for me to relax takes over, and I begin moving everything out of the way.
Once I’ve moved the nightstand, I unlock the door and crack it open, peering through the slit.
Empty. There’s no one there. I open it a little wider, glancing around, and still nothing.
I open it even wider, enough to stick my head out, and I look left and right.
No one. Opening the door all the way, I take a step forward but immediately pull back when I feel something under my foot.
It's my cell phone. I pick it up and check it. It’s nearly 9pm, and I have no service. Just great.
I walk to the top of the stairs, stopping to listen.
Silence. Taking a few steps down, I repeat the process until I’ve made it all the way down the stairs.
The cabin is empty from what I can see, but the front door is wide open, letting in the cold from outside.
Gusts of wind blow snow into the house, and I rush to close it.
I peek out the window, but due to the storm and how dark it is, I can’t see anything.
I drag the couch toward the front door, barricading myself in.
I double-check all the windows and the back door before I run upstairs and barricade myself in my room again.
If anyone comes in, at least I’ll hear them trying to get into the house.
Once everything is in place, I change into pajamas and get into bed, keeping a pair of shoes right next to the edge in case I need to throw them on quickly and run.
I’ll file a police report on Liam the second I’m able to.
After about an hour without hearing any commotion, my brain finally relaxes, and I drift off into a sleep I hope is peaceful. After all, it is Christmas tomorrow.