Authors: Lacey Silks
The wooden stairs at the outside of the building squeaked underneath my soles, cracking every few steps. The sound echoed, giving me goosebumps. I finally made it to the main foyer in front of my apartment and slowly turned the key. A musky smell hit me when I opened the door. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the place. Whoever moved in here next would have to air the apartment out for days. For the first time in years, I was happy to leave this murky home behind; if you could even call it a home. Slowly, all that pain I’d been carrying in my chest over this five-year mourning period began to recede, rejecting the guilt I’d bestowed upon myself.
I packed the blanket inside a bag and turned back to the front door. A hand clasped over my mouth before I got a chance to scream. His whisper of “Gotcha” scraped through my body like sandpaper, and a bitter smell filled my lungs. I could feel its swirl slowly filling their depths, overwhelming me until I passed out.
I
woke
up to a rhythmic sound of dripping water. My head hurt and my throat burned with acid. The bitter taste in my mouth reminded me of Brad closing his hand over my mouth before I got a chance to scream and drugging me with chloroform. I opened my eyes, observing the dimly lit room through thin slits. Brad was lying down on a metal frame bed, snoring. The mattress underneath him was worn out and torn at the sides, stained with dirt and what appeared to be mold. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and rugged jeans. The stench in the room reminded me of overflowing sewers. I shifted in my seat, making more noise than intended, but he didn’t wake.
Where am I?
Outside, heavy drops of rain drummed against the small window. The skies were dark outside. I looked around the room. White tiles, which had yellowed over time, covered most of the walls. Some were cracked and broken, and there were patches of exposed drywall here and there. A boundary line of dirt was visible about shoulder height all the way around, as if water that deep had once filled the room. Mud, paper, and crushed beer cans littered the floor. A white light bulb flickered overhead, its buzzing electricity fading in and out.
My bladder felt full, and I wondered how long I’d been here and what Brad had planned for me. My hands were bound at the back and rope was tied around my torso, attaching me to the chair. I tried to stand to make my way closer to the door. My skills, however, were nowhere near the James Bond level I was hoping for, and Brad woke up.
“It’s about time.” He stretched his arms out lazily, as if it were just another day. “I didn’t think we’d have much time if you slept longer.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Well, you got a mouth on you, girl, don’t you? Why haven’t you been home? Afraid I’d kill you for calling the police on me?” He laughed and I stilled. “I’m joking, Trish.”
I was pretty sure that he wasn’t. “What do you want from me?”
“Don’t worry. You’re not the one I’m after. You’re just bait.”
He crouched in front of me, drawing his hand over my cheek. The stench of gasoline forced a cough from my lungs.
“Bait for what?”
“Julia and her asshole boyfriend, Scar. You’ll lure them here for me, I’ll take out my long-time friend Wagner, and I’ll have Julia all to myself.”
He was after Scar, Axel’s younger brother.
“You do that for me, and I’ll let you go. If you don’t… Well, you of all people should know what I’m capable of.” He paused, narrowing his brows as if he were thinking something profound.
Yeah, I knew all about Brad’s fucked up talents. He once kicked a stray cat on a sidewalk. The poor kitten flew almost a story up before hitting the ground. The shock of the kick sent him to the pavement onto his back, not on all fours as people liked to believe cats land. Sometimes I was convinced that this man was possessed.
He rubbed his hands as if pleased about his plans. “I won’t hurt her, but she does owe me some fun. You used to be fun when I first met you. Then you just became this robot. Everything was automated.”
What the hell did he expect? I wasn’t exactly looking to be a masochist. I wanted to be punished. I needed to feel the pain and suffer for my sins; but Brad was an entirely different level of degradation even I hadn’t expected when I sought him out.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking around the dead room.
“Huntington Clinic. This place flooded and closed down a few decades back. It’s an old clinic and no one comes here anymore.”
“Why are you obsessed with Julia?”
“It’s a long story. She was supposed to be mine in high school. Then asshole Wagner got to her. It’s time to turn back the clock.”
He reached for his phone and dialed a number. He placed his finger to his lips, asking me to be quiet. After a smirk, he said, “If you want Trish to live, you’re going to smile and say
Hello, Trish. How are you?
” He kept his gloating smile on me. I bet he was probably thinking to himself that he was a genius. Well, the genius didn’t know that I’d found a new outlook on life. There was no way I’d let him hurt Julia or Scar.
“You have five hours to come to the old Huntington Clinic by the hospital on your own,” he said into the receiver. I assumed he was talking to Julia.
After a moment he screamed, “Do you think I fucking care?”
I jumped up. Whatever he wanted to do, there was no way I could let him.
“Julia, don’t listen to him!” I yelled out.
Brad whipped around toward me, his hand flying at my face. “Shut the fuck up!”
The slap stung, like a hot iron had been plastered to my cheek.
“If you want to see her alive, come alone Julia. Five hours,” he finished, hanging up.
“You’re going to regret this!”
Next came a punch, with which I was pretty sure my bladder let go, and I soiled my pants, closed my eyes, and drifted off into Chloe’s life again.
She was lying down on someone’s lap on a park bench. The day was bright, perfect for a walk. A big hand with strong fingers combed through her hair, and she closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to raise a baby with this man. I wanted to cry, because I knew that it was a wish that would never come true for my sister. When she opened her eyes, a whispered “I love you” warmed her from above. I felt its heat graze over my own skin, the words so honest and deep that my chest squeezed from happiness, and I awoke.
Except there was nothing happy about my current predicament, yet with the new headache also came determination to get out of there alive. The last thing I wanted was for Axel and Trevor to be standing over my grave, mourning a second woman who had disappeared from their lives. I wasn’t sure where my willpower came from, but I wasn’t going to go out this way. Not on Brad’s terms.
He was pacing back and forth across the room, continuously checking his watch. “They should be here soon,” he said, stilling. “Do not make a sound.”
He backed into the wall and listened for something I couldn’t hear. The rain pounded harder, and thin streams flowed along the curb outside, carrying along rolling pebbles and swooshing debris which together with the thunder combined into a murky melody.
In my peripheral vision, I saw movement. Brad brought his fingers to his lips, indicating I should be quiet, and that’s when I screamed.
“You cunt!” He pressed his foot on something and a loud bang echoed from where I saw the movement. I twisted in my chair to get a better look, but all I saw was a limp body on the floor.
“Do not fucking move from here, or I swear I will hunt you down and saw off your limbs one at a time.”
Fuck you!
I screamed in my head, but I forced a cowardly expression to my face and asked, “What are you going to do?”
“You mean after I make sure Wagner doesn’t get out of here alive?” he laughed.
“Please, Brad, you don’t have to do this.”
“You’re the reason this happened. If you could have just kept your hands to yourself, maybe I wouldn’t have had to look for another pussy. But now I’ll have her, and I’ll take what was rightfully mine long ago.”
He was delusional. I had nothing to do with his kind of crazy, and he wasn’t about to convince me that I did. I knew me. I owned up to my mistakes, but I’d never take on his as my own. Brad’s voice was chilling. Whatever he had planned for today, he’d go through with it.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”
“One more minute, Trish, and it will be over. You know, I really thought she’d come for you.” He removed a blade from his pocket. It reflected the flickering light, which accentuated the sharp edge.
This was it. If Julia didn’t show, he’d kill me. Axel was all the way across the ocean, and I wouldn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. I must have gone crazy as well, hoping that he’d do the impossible and step through that door to rescue me. It was time to save myself. I wiggled in my seat, trying to remove the rope from around my wrists.
Brad growled and strode toward me, raising his arm high for another hot slap across my face.
The door busted open, and Julia jumped in with a gun in her hand, pointing it at Brad.
“Put your hands up, you fuck!”
He laughed. “Finally, Jules. I was wondering when you’d get here.”
“Untie her,” she ordered.
He ignored her and smirked, taking a step toward her.
“I mean it, Brad. Untie her.” Julia backed up, holding the gun steady.
Shoot him, Julia! You won’t get another chance if you don’t.
But Brad didn’t show a hint of fear as he said, “Let me ask you something, Julia. Have you ever shot a gun?”
“No time like the present,” she replied.
“Have you ever killed anyone?”
He leaned his head to the side and didn’t wait for her answer. “I have. I’m sorry, but you’re not going to pull that trigger, sweetheart.”
He took another step toward her.
“I swear I’ll shoot,” she warned. Brad continued his unsteady pace forward, and Julia shut her eyes and pressed her finger to the trigger.
Nothing happened.
“Learn how to work one of these before you try to use it.” He grasped the gun and ripped it out of her hand. She swung her fist into his face, and a crunch echoed through the room. His head lurched to the side. As he looked back toward her, his eyes filled with eager hate. He adjusted his jaw with his hand and matched Julia’s steps left, then right as she searched for an escape. There was no way out. We were both trapped; but I had a funny feeling in my stomach that Brad’s quarrel with Julia was worse than the one he had with me. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
“Scar!” she screamed.
I wondered if that limp body in the other hallway was Scar’s, and if so, was he still alive?
“Have a seat, Julia. It’s going to be a long night.”
“Look, just let us go. Please.”
“Pleeaasseee,” he mocked. “You fucking pulled the trigger on me!”
Julia jumped up right along with me.
“I fucking said have a seat!”
She obeyed this time and plopped down on the chair.
“Your boyfriend won’t save you. He’s got too much to lose. If Wagner crosses me, I’ll never sell the club. And I’ll make sure he eventually loses all the money he’s got. And if there’s one thing that Wagner loves more than the women he sleeps with, it’s his money.”
“What do you have to do with his club?” she asked.
Apparently Julia wasn’t aware of Brad being involved in Hounds.
“What? I own half of it.”
“You’re a liar.” She spat in his face.
Brad swung his arm at her, hitting her on her face so hard that she passed out.
“Brad! What the hell! You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”
“She’s still alive, isn’t she?”
He stepped toward me.
“What are you doing?”
“Shut up.” He cut through the binding on my hands and behind my back, freeing me. Brad tugged at my arm, squeezing his fingers hard around my bicep, and led me out of the room toward that limp body lying in the hallway. As we got closer, I saw that it was Scar, unconscious.
Brad whipped his body around, grasped my jaw in one of his hands, and shoved me against a wall. His face came within inches of mine, his breath stinking of hunger, cigarettes, and booze. “I’m going to let you go, Trish, but if you alert anyone, I will pin all of this on you. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“Speak up!”
“Yes.”
“I know more about you than you may think… Ms.
Dalton
.”
What? No one had called me by that name in years, simply because I ran away from my problems, changed my last name, and hadn’t used it since. No one knew what I’d done.
“That’s right. You think you can hide under your new name for long? I knew you were broken the moment I met you. Perfect for what I needed at the time. But I don’t need you anymore, Trish. So, unless you want to watch me fuck Julia, get the fuck out of here. This is my pass card for you. For all the times you let me fuck you and blew me. Consider it a thank you. Take this chance, turn around, leave, don’t speak of this evening to anyone, and never come back. If I ever see you again, I promise it will be the last time.”
He pushed at my chin, forcing my entire head to twist. A tear trickled down my cheek. As soon as he let go, I looked toward the hallway I thought led to an exit, and I ran. My legs couldn’t move fast enough. I tripped, fell into a puddle, scraping a knee, picked myself up again, looked behind me, and continued. My thighs and calves burned from the strain I added to my sprint. The hallway at the Huntington clinic felt never-ending. Every few seconds, lightning outside illuminated the path in front of me and I pushed forward, harder. I turned in and out of rooms, looking for an escape, feeling as lost as if I were running through a labyrinth, and then I stopped. My heart was beating so hard, I thought it would rip out of my chest. I lowered my hand to my chest, feeling the ripple of my scar underneath my fingertips. Air heaved in and out of my lungs. I braced my hands on my knees for support, letting my shoulders fall and rise with each breath.
I can’t leave them.
Something inside me snapped. The beating of the heart that gave me a second chance at life pounded with urgency. I had no doubt that Brad would kill Julia and Scar, and if I let them die, then I was no better than the person I was five years ago.
It was time to make amends.
I looked back down the hallway I’d come from. Brad was no longer visible, and so I started walking back, slowly at first, wondering how far I had actually run, then faster until I heard shuffling in one of the rooms. I stayed back, hiding, listening to Brad mumble to himself. When I peeked around the corner, Scar was sitting in a chair, his hands were bound behind him, and he was tied to the chair the same way I had been. My gaze lowered to the contraption below him — a platform — that was linked with cables to a timer and a board. Dozens of gasoline containers were scattered around the room, all connected with wires.
Shit!
The platform appeared to be a weight trigger. There was no way to walk out of that room alive… unless someone interfered. If there was anyone who could help Scar, it was me.