Nothing More Beautiful (36 page)

“You’re—” Too late, she’d hung up.
“Welcome,” I finished for no one. God, she was crazy. Where else
could I check? Alma was going to have the police take over. I
thought about waiting for them, but I also didn’t want to hang
around idly.

I went back to his bedroom to see if I’d
overlooked something. Normal. It was all
normal . . . until I noticed a cluster of black
fuzzies where Vince slept. I pinched one between my fingers and
brought it up to my eyes for a closer inspection. It looked like
the material the bondage cuffs had on the inside.

The Oregon City house flashed in my mind,
sparking an idea. Maybe he went back out there for his phone, and
left in a hurry. That sounded too convenient in my head, too easy.
He hadn’t taken his keys either, or had he? I regarded the keychain
and saw that the car starter was missing. After a minor debate with
myself, I texted Alma, deciding to check it out. I also sent
Bridgett a text to let her know my change of plans.

Climbing into Eddie, I headed down to Oregon
City. I had a bad feeling crawling around in my brain, and the
farther south I drove, the worse it got. I pulled up into the
driveway, parking in front of the garages. Vince’s Mustang wasn’t
there, and last time he didn’t pull into one of the garages, which
may have meant they were full with other toys. It looked like I
made the long trip for nothing.

Before I got out, I checked my phone to see
if Alma had replied, but it was dead. “Dammit.” I tossed it into
the passenger seat. Without a charger, it was useless. Inspecting
the windows on the sides of the first and third garages, I
discovered they were placed too high to check inside, except maybe
with a good jump, which I didn’t have.

Luckily, the door to the house was a
different story. I turned the handle and the door swung quietly
open. Sidling through the house, it appeared normal, everything
exactly how we’d left it—

Until I rounded the corner and spotted Vince
cuffed to the sex furniture in the same position he had strapped
me. He was wearing only his socks and underwear, and was gagged.
All the normal furniture had been moved back toward the walls, with
Vince in the center of the great room. Circling him with a camera,
Terrance snapped photos, acting like a professional photographer,
bending down into different positions. “Yeah, baby,” I heard
Terrance say. “Yeah, that’s it, work the camera.”

My first instinct was to rush in and try to
help, but Terrance weighed well over 200 pounds of pure muscle, and
I killed that foolish idea straightaway. I crept back behind the
wall. He hadn’t seen me, and apparently hadn’t heard my reaction to
the shocking scene, so I slunk into the kitchen. A cordless
landline sat on the counter. Why Vince had it, I didn’t know, but
at that moment I was glad he did. Picking up the receiver, no
signal graced my ears. It was either unplugged or the line had been
severed.

Shit.

There was only one other option: drive and
get help. But how could I just leave Vince behind with a psycho,
strapped down and powerless?
Fuck, why did my phone have to die
now of all times?
About to lose it, I sprinted for the open
door.

Terrance slammed it shut, jumping from
around the corner of the other connecting hall. “I was wondering if
you’d show up for this little get-together,” he said calmly with
that deep, harsh voice of his. He closed in on me. “You’re one pain
in the ass I’ll sure be glad to get rid of.”

When he was within distance, I slapped him,
and slapped him hard—but it was like slapping cement. A bolt of
pain shot through my arm—my palm red and raw.

“That wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” he
said sadistically. He slapped me back with so much force, I
collapsed to the floor. I could feel the bruise blooming, the blow
disorienting me for a second. The next thing I knew, he was
dragging me by my hair, throwing me into a chair, and wrapping a
rope around me. He tied the knots unbelievably tight.

I couldn’t budge an inch in any direction.
He scooted me off to the side, in front of Vince, so that he could
see me. Besides the regular cuffs of the sex furniture, Terrance
had also tied Vince in place with lots of rope, restricting nearly
any kind of movement. Our eyes locked, and I could read the terror
in him, but I was certain there was more in me.

Terrance went back to taking photos with an
expensive digital camera. Either he forgot to gag me, or
purposefully didn’t, but either way, I couldn’t prevent the words
from spilling out of my mouth. “It will be okay. It will be okay,”
I said, staring into Vince’s eyes.

There was a fire in him, a burning
resilience that told me it would be okay. He was screaming at
Terrance through the gag, but all his words were muted,
incomprehensible gibberish.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why?” Terrance
said, his eyes dark, his words even darker. “Come on, I know it’s
eating at you, so go on, ask me.”

“Why—” The word scraped against my throat.
“Why are you doing this?” I stuttered, shaking in horror.

“I thought I understood Vince,” he started,
“until you walked into the picture with your pretty tits, shaking
your ass in front of his face.”

“I—”

“DON’T,” he roared. The power of his voice
made me cringe. “Don’t interrupt me . . . We
had a special bond, Vince and I. Didn’t we, Vince?” Terrance turned
from me and smirked at Vince. “We worked out together, ate meals
together, watched movies, played video games. And then along comes
Maci
Goodwin.” He emphasized my name with a cruel glint in
his eye. “Everything changed after that. Now the only time we eat
together is at your pathetic brunch house. Well, I’m sick of it.
Sick of you. Sick of pretending.” He went back to his work with the
camera.

“What—what are you going to do with us?” My
voice quivered with every word.

He stripped off Vince’s socks as Vince tried
to kick back, but there was no room for his legs to move. “As you
can see, there’s only one more piece before the finale, though it’s
not like I haven’t seen it before. After I’m done getting my
photos—my treasures—I suppose I’ll have to get rid of you, right?
There’s certainly enough forest around to dispose of your
bodies.”

“You’re going to kill us?” I mumbled, barely
getting the words out.

“Vince and I will be together, don’t you
worry about that,” he said with a devious grin. Once he had
captured Vince from every angle in his socks, Terrance reached for
Vince’s underwear. “So beautiful, isn’t he?” He ran his hands over
Vince’s stomach.

Vince let out a muffled scream in
retaliation.

“Please. Please don’t do this,” I
begged.

“Save your cries for the knife,” he growled.
“My ears have no use for them.” He played with the elastic
underwear band, snapping it against Vince’s skin, then lumbered
across the room and grabbed a pair of scissors. Opening and closing
them, Terrance looked at me and smiled.

“Don’t,” I pleaded.

“I warned you.” Terrance stepped around
Vince and slapped my other cheek. “I’m a man who prefers silence.”
He turned back to Vince, and in one quick motion, cut off the
underwear, ripping most of the cloth with his strength. He brought
the material to his face and inhaled as deep as anyone could,
holding his breath, then released with a soft sigh. “Beautiful,
isn’t that right, Maci?”

Disoriented from the blow, I watched it all
in a haze, my brain rattled. I could hear Vince’s protests better
than I could see what Terrance was doing. My vision slowly cleared,
and I saw Terrance circling with his camera as he’d done before,
clicking furiously. He halted when he came between Vince and me.
“Ah, it’s a shame I have to spoil such a perfect body, wouldn’t you
agree?”

Tears were running down my face in
torrents.

“Should I make him come one last time?”
Terrance asked, his husky voice grating against my ears. With his
hand extended out, he stepped toward Vince’s crotch.

“Please, no. Please, please. Spare him,” I
said, my voice feeble and small. “Please, don’t.”

“Spare him?” he laughed. “I wish I could.
God, I wish I could . . . but it’s not
possible.” He withdrew his hand from Vince’s body. “However, this
is a private show. An intimate, special act between Vince and me.”
He ambled behind me and started dragging the chair toward the
double doors. “Say goodbye. This will be the last time you see
him.”

“No, Terrance, please!” I screamed

He hauled me out into the courtyard near the
fountain, the view of Mount Hood in the distance. Vince disappeared
as Terrance closed the doors. “Now it’s just you and me, baby
cakes.” He laughed at himself. “Don’t people say that? Nah, real
people don’t say that. It’s kind of fun to say, though—
baby
cakes
.” He took in a whiff of the cool, clean air. “Isn’t that
just beautiful?” He nodded at the mountain. “Say goodbye to it,
too.”

He heaved the chair to the right, down the
walkway that connected to the parking area, past the driveway, and
into the woods beyond. I was sobbing uncontrollably, my mind
racing, trying to figure out what to do. Not a single plan entered
my mind.
How could this be real?
How could this really be
happening?
Do all people ask themselves the same question in
crazy situations like this?

Terrance dragged me deeper and deeper into
the woods. Finally, he stopped, positioning the chair against a
broad tree. “Have you ever heard that song, ‘Hello Sunshine’ by,
oh, I forget, but you know what I’m talking about, right? You’ve
heard it, yeah?”

I nodded, not knowing what else to do.

From under his jacket, he pulled out a
Crocodile Dundee knife that was so long and sharp, the very sight
of it made me choke in fear. “I like that song,” he said. “Every
time I saw Vince, I thought about that song. He was my sunshine.”
He bent down so that we were eye-to-eye. “You’re the clouds that
block out the sunshine. You’re the storm that never stops. It’s
time to end the storm, Maci.” He stood again, towering over me.

My voice had died from all the screams, my
throat raw with pain. I could only shake my head, pleading with
silent whispers.

He raised the knife above his head and
paused. “It’s time to let the sun shine, Maci. It’s time for you to
die.”

T
errance flinched as
someone yelled, “DROP IT! DROP IT NOW!”

He looked left and spotted the two police
officers, their weapons targeting the side of his torso. He smiled
at them, then at me. He lifted the blade back, about to strike, and
then swung down.

The gunshots blared in the quiet woods like
sirens. A bullet pierced his hand, sending the knife to the ground.
A second penetrated his shoulder, and a third punctured his side,
propelling him to my right, the force driving him into the
leaves.

The two officers rushed over, one snagging
the knife off the ground, the other bending before me. “Ma’am, are
you all right? Are you injured?”

I stared at the ground, my mind blank. My
body felt distant, parted from me somehow, as though I floated
above, watching like a bird. All of a sudden I could sense the cop
cutting through the rope. “You’re safe now.” His voice rang in my
ears.

I glanced at Terrance’s body and all the
blood. There was so much blood.

“Maci,” someone cried in the distance.

I looked up and saw Vince running. He threw
his arms around me. “Are you all right?” His voice was rough but
present, unlike mine. He was wearing pants, but that was
all—shoeless, sockless, shirtless, and looking like hell.

I nodded at him. “Oh, thank God. He
didn’t—”

“Maci!” Alma shouted. “Oh my God, Maci.” She
squeezed in for a hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right.” She was
stealing all the breath from me. “I can’t believe it. I can’t
believe any of it.” She pulled away, holding me at arm’s length.
“Fucking Christ, I thought you two—” Her voice was shaking as much
as my body was. “I’m so sorry—so—so—sorry.” Her eyes were filled
with tears.

More and more people were arriving. A woman
handed me a water bottle, speaking softly, but I didn’t hear a word
she said.

“We have to get both of you checked out,”
another woman said, breaking us apart. We were led up to the
driveway where an ambulance and police cars littered the
pavement.

“How—did you know? How did you know to send
the police?” I asked Alma over a half hour later, the trauma still
deep and fresh. A trace of my voice had returned. We stood out on
the expansive front lawn by ourselves. Many of the police had gone,
having written down our statements, but most still lingered.

“You mentioned Vince’s car key being gone,”
Alma said, “which made me think of the GPS inside the car. There
are two: one Terrance knew about, and one Vince only shared with
me. The first was disabled, but the second showed the car parked in
the garage. I knew then—I knew something bad was happening. I’m so
sorry,” she apologized for the hundredth time and embraced me
again.

Vince walked up after a lengthy round of
questioning with the police. “Alma,” he gently spoke. “Could we be
alone for a while?”

She nodded. “Yeah, sure. If you need
anything, I’ll be in the house.”

“I’m so sorry, Maci,” Vince choked up after
Alma was out of sight. “I never—never imagined Terrance was capable
of doing something like that, let alone . . .” He
trailed off, shaking his head. “Well, I’m definitely selling the
house,” he joked, trying to infuse some light humor to alleviate
the dismal mood.

His attempt got a slight smile out of me. We
wrapped our arms around each other. “Yeah.”

“We need to get away,” he said after a
minute of silence. “A trip. A trip to anywhere in the world. Where
do you want to go?”