Authors: Ranae Rose
Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she dove back into the car, reaching for her purse, which she’d left on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Her heart slammed against her ribs, making her faintly dizzy as she tore the zipper open and reached inside, fumbling for her phone.
Her
dead
phone. Realization hit her the second she swiped her finger across the black screen. Monster Bride had run the battery into the ground with her incessant calls. In that moment, Alicia hated the woman with a blinding fury few people had ever brought out in her.
She also hated herself for not having a landline set up in her new home. She hadn’t bothered, hadn’t needed one. Except now, the fact that she had no way to call 911 probably meant that Liam was going to die. Because his car was in the driveway, and he was nowhere to be seen. Which meant he was, in all likelihood, inside the burning house.
Her eyes were drawn to the door, solid wood, probably blistering with heat on the other side. If she knew Liam – and she did – it would be locked.
She clattered up the steps and tried the handle anyway, choking on smoke.
She half expected the doorknob to burn her hand, but it didn’t. That seemed like a good sign, but what did it matter if she couldn’t get inside?
And what had happened to Liam that he wasn’t running for the door – had the fire trapped him?
The thought had her in a cold sweat despite the heat radiating from the bungalow. Unable to bear it any longer, she turned and hurried down the steps, tripping on the last one and sprawling in the gravel. When she jumped up, little stones rained from her clothing and the palms of her hands as adrenaline spiked through her system, numbing her to the pain.
She had to do something and so she ran, all the way around the house, in a huge circle. As she went, she scanned the windows, searching for any sign of Liam, calling his name and hoping to see his silhouette against the glass. Because even if he was trapped in a room, maybe he could get to a window and jump to safety.
But there was no sign of him, no sign at all. By the time she rounded the house and hit the driveway again, her heart had sunk deep into her knotted gut, still beating hard, and she was forced to make a decision.
Everyone loved a beautiful woman. That was one way – maybe the only way – Troy and Officer Asshole were the same.
Troy had been watching Alexander for a while now, and all that watching had been made a little easier by the brunette slut who lived next door. She liked to run around in short shorts and little dresses, flaunting her body at her neighbor.
She was pretty – real pretty. Pretty and stupid enough to throw herself at Alexander’s feet.
At first, Troy had figured he’d be doing her a favor by offing her little boyfriend. She’d be better off without him, even if she was too dumb to know it.
Now, he was having second thoughts. She’d shown up, putting herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, and as smoke curled out of the house, spiraling through the air, she was hurrying for her vehicle.
Troy couldn’t let her get away, no matter what she looked like. If she went for help now, she might bring it back in time to save Alexander, and that was un-fucking-acceptable.
He moved through the woods, threading his way through the pines, knowing the sound of twigs snapping beneath his feet would be hidden by the popping and hissing noises coming from the burning house.
She wouldn’t hear him coming, especially not with the way she was acting, flipping out over the toasty trap Troy had set for her boyfriend.
As he emerged from the trees, a knife in hand, his feelings of regret evaporated. It didn’t seem like such a shame to kill her – not when he really thought about it.
Sure, she was pretty. Pretty and stupid, just like his mama had been. She’d chosen Alexander and practically tripped over her own panties in a hurry to get out of ‘em every time he was around.
How many times would she have had to let Alexander fuck her before she would’ve gotten pregnant, popped out a kid or two? Filled a whole house with little mini-assholes, ones who’d grow up to be just like their father, probably take up shifts at Riley as soon as they were old enough to wear a badge.
Either that or end up getting the living shit beat out of them by dad every day of their lives, living in misery under the thumb of a tyrant with a badge.
Troy wasn’t sure which was worse. Either way, he burnt with hatred as flames licked at the house’s roof, made the windows glow orange, like stained glass. There were plenty of pretty women in the world; no one would miss just one. Being nice to look at was no reason to be allowed to live.
She’d made her bed, now she’d lie in it – he’d make sure.
* * * * *
Breathing hard, nostrils singed by acrid smoke, Alicia made her way toward her car. The thought of driving away was excruciating, but she had to get help. She could ignore the speed limit and reach the nearest neighbor in a minute, call 911.
That minute might mean the difference between life and death for Liam, but the only other option was to stand by uselessly and watch his house turn to ash around him. He’d die alone, not even knowing she was close by.
“Holden!” she shouted as she neared her car, blinking smoke-stung eyes, looking for her dog.
A bark came from nearby, then another. A whole series of them, sharp and defined.
“Come here!” She didn’t have any patience, any time to waste. Breathing a sharp sigh, she turned, one hand on the car, the other reaching out to beckon.
Her mind registered movement, the shape of a man, before she could comprehend what that meant. For half a second she just stood frozen, glad and not even knowing why. Then she was calling out again, the note of desperation in her voice transitioning into joy. “Liam!”
Only the man Holden was barking at wasn’t Liam. That realization crashed down on her as soon as his name had left her lips, and she was suddenly cold. Because the man was only a few feet from her, and she recognized him.
The sharp, angular face was familiar, even with a week’s worth of stubble shadowing its planes. It was the eyes that really stood out, narrowed and burning with an intensity that defied their watery blue color. They’d printed his picture in color on the front page of the Riley Gazette – his and his brother’s.
Troy Levinson came at Alicia like a charging bull, stumbling, dirty hands reaching for her, fingers tangling in her hair.
She stepped backward, but only found herself up against her car, trapped. Holden’s barking rang in her ears as the man’s body odor hit her like a ton of bricks, the sour, metallic smell of unwashed skin and blood.
The cold, creeping sense of suspicion she’d felt when she’d woken to the sound of breaking glass bloomed into terrible certainty now. The sound of crackling frames, wood popping under duress, filled her ears and flooded her mind with thoughts of Liam as her assailant seized a fistful of her hair and pulled.
Pull turned to shove and her head bounced off the frame above the open car door with a
thud
that reverberated through her, leaving her nauseous.
She’d always figured that actually seeing erupting stars after being injured was something that only happened in cartoons, but that wasn’t the case. Silver bursts of light filled her vision, a screen of flashing luminescence that she had to squint to see through.
She couldn’t make out much, just a few things, like the grubby blood-stained white of the old bandage wrapped around Troy Levinson’s arm, marking where Liam had had him shot, and the holes that’d been torn in a t-shirt a size too big for his wiry frame.
The shirt had probably been stolen, just like the rhubarb pie he’d lifted from Magnolia Street. Stupid realization to dwell on while being assaulted by a murderer, but the thought streaked across her mind, clear and captivating for reasons she couldn’t put her finger on.
Holden charged onto the scene, barking, snarling, but Troy kicked him away.
Alicia heard the sharp yelp and whimper of the wounded dog, felt her heart clench in her chest as she realized that the only two beings in Riley County she’d had a chance to come to love were about to be taken away from her.
Liam and Holden, gone forever.
And she was probably going to die too.
“Might not seem like it to anyone in this goddamned town, thanks to the goddamned news, but I don’t care for killin’ for no reason.” Troy’s voice came from above, strangely amplified by the sharp pain radiating through Alicia’s head.
She realized that she was slumped at his feet, against the car, one hand to her temple and the other in the gravel, fingers curled among the tiny, sharp stones.
He yanked her to her feet, pulling her by her hair.
“There’s some people that deserve to die though. Everyone knows it, but most people don’t have the balls to make it happen. I do, though. ‘Cuz I’ve figured somethin’ out, and that’s that there’s no better feeling than putting someone who really deserves it in the ground.”
He didn’t have to tell her she deserved it; it was obvious that he thought so, had already justified harming her somewhere in the twisted depths of his sick brain. Urgency surged through her, as potent as her pain, and she knew she had to do something, knew she’d die if she didn’t.
Unfortunately, the only thing she remembered from the self-defense lesson Liam had given her was the heat of his skin against hers, the thrill of being so close to him. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing; the memories inspired her, added an extra measure of desperation to her movements as she swung an elbow at Troy’s face.
Desperation made her hit hard. The point of her elbow connected with his nose, and there was the crack of cartilage, immediately releasing a hot gush of blood that stained her skin and dribbled from her elbow.
Elation tore through her, momentarily distracting her from her pain. She’d done it – she’d hit him, hurt him. And in his shock, he’d let go of her hair.
Head still pounding, she stood up straight, fighting to focus, willing her vision not to blur.
What she saw wasn’t what she’d hoped for: Troy Levinson was lunging at her, swearing. She moved in an effort to evade him, but the world seemed to spin around her as silver lights crowded the field of her vision.
He grabbed her by her hair again, this time clamping a dirty hand down on one of her shoulders too and spinning her, pushing her down against her car. The sun-warmed metal burned her cheek, but his hot breath on her face was even worse.
“Dumb bitch. You didn’t really think you could save your little boyfriend, did you?
“I been watchin’ you both for a while now. Figured out the other house was yours and you two were just shackin’ up together for the fun of it the night I busted that window. And you know what? I was gonna let you go, ‘cuz I figured you was just too stupid to know better. The pretty ones are usually pretty damn stupid, after all.”
His breath smelled like decay, the pungent stink of rot underlaid by something fishy.
“Coulda lit this place up while you were both asleep, but I didn’t. And you had to come around and get in my way, get yourself killed.”
He tightened his hold on her hair, pulling her head back, making her look at him until her eyes watered from the tension. “Maybe it’s for the best. You wanna fuck a pig, I guess you deserve to die like one too.”
At first, when she saw the flash of silver, she thought it was just another light, another something that wasn’t really there. The cold press of a knife blade against her throat absolved her of that notion.
She barely had time to be terrified before the sound of breaking glass exploded through the evening, drowning out the sound of Troy’s breathing, the echo of his words. Even with the knife pressed against her throat, she couldn’t help it: she turned to look at the house.
A stinging sensation told her the blade had broken her skin, but the sight of Liam rounding the side of the house didn’t leave any room in her consciousness for pain.
He stumbled at first, then began to run. His gait was far from smooth, but he was moving fast, right for her and Troy.
In a split second, Alicia took advantage of Troy’s distraction, rocking back and throwing her weight against him. They both fell backwards, and although the knife dug into her neck, she never lost the ability to breathe, never felt the devastating slice of the steel through her jugular, like in a movie.
So she was okay. Or at least, she would be. As soon as they hit the gravel she twisted away from him, kicking.
Troy threw himself at her, grabbing her leg and pulling her to him, crushing her with his body weight. In an instant, he had the knife at her throat again.
She struggled and felt the blade press hard against her broken skin. It hurt, and as her pulse jumped, she was intensely aware of the fragility of life, the ease with which it could be taken away from her.