Read Poser Online

Authors: Cambria Hebert

Tags: #Hashtag

Poser (33 page)

Chapter Fifty-Three

Ivy

It was cold outside. The heat wasn’t terribly high inside, yet I felt a rivulet of sweat slide down my back, between my shoulder blades and under my bra strap.

The ominous look to his usually boy-band appearance wasn’t helping matters.

He looked like he belonged in some made-for-TV movie where a bunch of good-looking teenagers go on a killing spree.

Stop thinking about that!
I almost laughed because that was so not going to happen. Zach was my walking horror film come to life. He was my worst nightmare (literally) and the one person that had the ability to reduce me into a helpless lamb.

When I said nothing and only stood there staring, he smiled. His teeth appeared rotted in the shadows of my phone’s light. “Aren’t you glad to see me, Ivy?”

Stop saying my name!

“I thought you were locked up,” I managed to get out, my voice sounding hollow to my ears.

“Got some time out for good behavior,” he replied.

“There’s no way,” I said, my brain finally switching into survival mode.
What in the hell took so long?

Find a weapon. Escape behind a rack. Disappear in the dark. You know this place. He doesn’t. Use it to your advantage.

I could barely hear my thoughts because my heart was pounding so loud. I took a deep breath and tried to relax its racing. I needed to calm down. I needed to get out of here.

“Oh yes, the doctors at the facility seem to think I’m doing much better. I must agree. I barely think about Romeo and Rimmel anymore.”

I didn’t say anything. I started moving ever so slightly toward the counter where there was a cup full of pencils, pens, and a pair of scissors.

“Do you know why I haven’t been thinking about them anymore?” he asked.

“I don’t really care.”

“Yes!” he yelled. “You do!”

Oh my God, he was totally off his rocker. How in the hell could any doctor think he was stable enough to walk around in society without any kind of supervision?

“You’re right,” I said, changing gears. “I do. Tell me why.”

The phone screen went dark, momentarily plunging us back into obscurity. I moved fast, lunging toward the counter, pleading with my heels to not make a sound. My hand collided with the cup of pencils and pens, and it fell over. I heard it all scatter and some if it fall to the floor.

I wanted to weep.

“What are you doing!” Zach yelled.

On impulse, I grabbed the stapler, because it was the only thing in reach, and held it behind my back.

“Nothing,” I lied.

My phone screen lit up again, his face came into view.

“I think about you, Ivy. I think about you all the time.”

Bile rose up the back of my throat.

“Do you ever think of me?”

Was he for real? I went to sleep at night and prayed to never think of him again. I was scared to close my eyes because I was afraid I would see his face. Of course I never
thought
about him. I hated him. “No.”

“Liar!” He laughed.

“I think you think about me all the time. Every day.” He stepped closer, and I gripped the stapler. “You remember that night, don’t you?” he taunted. “The night I had you.”

“Not much of it,” I stuttered even as the memories of that night replayed in my head like a slideshow. My knees were starting to shake; my body felt like I’d been running and my limbs were just exhausted.

“That’s too bad.” He spoke like he really was sorry. “It was a beautiful night. A shame you can’t remember it all.”

“You drugged me,” I said, anger replacing some of the fear. How dare he stand there and try to scare me with memories of the rape he committed?

“A means to an end.”

“Did you cut off the power in here too?” As I spoke, I silently turned the stapler over in my hands and felt around for the round button on the bottom.

“The whole street,” he said proudly. “Can’t have anyone seeing me when I drag you out of here.”

Everything inside me flat-lined for very long seconds. Then, as if I’d been brought back to life, I gasped, air making its way back into my lungs and my heart pounding again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” My voice held more bravado than I felt.

“Oh, but you are.”

I found the button and pressed it. The bottom on the stapler loosened and it became a long weapon in my hand. I flipped it around and gripped it so hard my fingers hurt.

“Braeden will be here any second. He always comes at night when I close.”

“I know,” Zach replied. “I’ve been watching you.”

“How long?”

“A while.”

“You were in the driveway last night,” I said.

“And in the stairwell at the dorm. And here the night a
kid
was ringing the bell on the door. I even left you that memento, the red panties from our night together. I was hoping it would bring back some memories. I was so happy when I realized it did.”

Tears burned the backs of my eyes. He was a stalker. He’d been following me around for weeks and I hadn’t even realized it.

“But why?” I asked.

A car drove by on the street, and I looked up, praying I recognized the shape of the headlights. But it wasn’t Braeden. It was just some random stranger, and they’d already passed.

“No more questions,” Zach said. “We need to go.”

“Go!” I panicked. “Go where?”

“You didn’t think I would kill you here, did you? It would create such a mess. I prefer to have you disappear. People will think you just ran away.”

Kill me?

Oh, hells no.

He let the screen go dark and pulled it down away from his face. I saw his shape move in the darkness. He stepped forward and reached out like he was going to grab me.

I made my move. I jolted forward with outspread arms and shoved him into the counter. He wasn’t expecting me to charge him, so I caught him off guard and he fell into the half wall.

His arm came out and grabbed me. I cried out at the force with which his hand closed around my arm. He squeezed so hard I thought the bones might break.

I pushed the pain away and brought up the stapler. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was aiming. I didn’t care as long as it hurt him.

I brought the hammer against his body—I think it was his chest—and I pushed in, giving it all the weight I could.

He screamed as the staple shot into his chest.

I tore my arm free and ran, knocking over a rack of clothes as I rushed. I fell over but got back up and started screaming for help.

“Help!” I screamed. “Help me!”

“You little bitch!” he roared and raced after me.

I sprinted to the door, praying to God I could make it outside before he caught up to me. I heard him trip and knock into a few things. My body came into contact with glass. It was so cold from the outside air. I gave a relieved cry and reached for the handle to pull it open.

There wasn’t one.

Shit! I’m too far over. I’m standing in front of the window, not the door!

I shoved off the glass and raced toward the door, tripping but recovering as I went. I threw myself at the entrance, my hand closing around the handle.

It swung out and cold air hit my skin. I screamed again.

A hand closed around the back of my shirt and pulled me back with such force I heard the seams tear.

I kicked out my foot, and he grabbed my ankle, slipping my shoe off in the process.

“Get off me!” I screamed, still hanging on to the door handle with everything I had.

I felt like a rope in a tug-of-war.

Unfortunately, it was a game I wasn’t very good at. He grabbed my other foot and pulled off the boot, then took hold of both my ankles and pulled me so swiftly I lost my grip and hit the floor. If I hadn’t caught myself on my hands, I would have busted my face.

Zach let go of me and leapt on top of me.

I had a flashback of the night he raped me, and my body froze up. Everything slowed down as I fought for control of my body and thoughts.

My eyes were adjusted enough in the dark now that I could see his face. It was twisted into a weird happy grimace, like being on top of me gave him sick pleasure.

“I was just going to kill you,” he said. “But now, having you under me, maybe I’ll have a little fun before I do. No one will know anyway. You won’t be around to tell.”

Like a bucket of ice water, clarity poured over me. I gasped and, feeling it near the tips of my fingers, gripped the stapler, pulling it back into my hand. Using the anger and fear inside me, I brought it around and smacked Zach in side of the head.

The metal stung in my hand when it slammed into him, and I let go at the same time he fell to the side. I scrambled up and pushed out the door, practically falling out onto the sidewalk.

“I-vy!” he roared from behind.

I started to run.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Braeden

I should have believed her.

I should have looked around outside that night a little harder.

I never thought in a million years that Zach would be let out for good behavior. Whoever the hell authorized that should be fired.

My tires squealed when I sped out of the lot behind Cypress Hill and pointed the truck in the direction of our house. I wasn’t sure where to go. My head was spinning. I had to know if she was okay. I had to warn her he might actually be lurking around.

I whipped out my cell and hit her number.

“Shit!” I yelled when it just rang and rang.

When her voicemail picked up, my gut tightened at the sound of her melodic voice. I cut the connection and thought. Maybe I should call Zach’s house, ask his father if Zach was even in town. Maybe Missy was lying.

Maybe this was all an elaborate ruse so I wouldn’t blame her for the red thong stunt.

I dialed Ivy again.

She didn’t answer again.

I glanced at the clock. She was still supposed to be at work. I dialed the landline for the boutique. An operator came on the line, saying the phone was disconnected.

I slammed on the brakes and made an illegal U-turn right there in the center of the street. My foot was laying on the gas, pushing my truck as fast as it would go toward the store. A weird sound came from under the hood and the truck began to slow despite my efforts otherwise.

It made a strange coughing sound and stalled out. Right there in the middle of the road.

“No!” I yelled and slammed my fist on the wheel. The horn blared under the force of my hit, and I cursed.

I tried three times to turn the engine over and get her started again. It wasn’t happening.

What the fuck was wrong with this thing and why was it happening now? I kept all the maintenance up to date, did it all myself. I knew this truck was in great condition. It shouldn’t be leaving me stranded.

Especially when Ivy needs me.

My legs jolted when I catapulted out of the cab and popped the hood. It was dark and I had to use my cell to see, but everything appeared fine. I didn’t see any reason the truck shouldn’t be running.

Unless someone tampered with it where you can’t see.

Acting on pure instinct, I slammed the hood and walked around the body, looking for something, anything that might tell me what the hell was happening. My eyes zeroed in on the gas tank, and I leapt forward and opened the small door that led to the tank.

I flipped on my cell again and shined it at the gas cap.

There was a gritty white substance in the little well just behind the door.

What. The. Fuck?

I grabbed the cap and turned it. The sound of something scraping filled my ears. Once the cap was pulled free, more white granules spilled out.

“Son of a bitch,” I whispered, wiping a finger in them.

I didn’t need to call Zach’s father anymore. I didn’t need any other proof at all to know he was in town.

This was all the proof I needed.

The motherfucker put sugar in my gas tank. It probably cycled through the fuel line and was clogging everything up, making my truck stall.

I kicked the side of the bed. This truck was completely useless now. Completely un-drivable until I cleaned out all the damn lines.

He did this on purpose.

He wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be able to get to her.

Putting truck was in neutral, I pushed it to the side of the road and left it there. My house was only a couple miles away. I could make it there faster on foot than it would take me to call someone and wait for them to come.

So I ran.

I pushed myself as hard as I could. My feet ate up the miles until our street came in to view. Once the house came into sight and I confirmed Ivy’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway, I ran even harder.

When I got there, Trent and Drew were in the driveway, pieces of their engines all over the place.

“You talk to Ivy?” I demanded, pounding up the drive. Sweat soaked my clothes and dripped off my chin.

Drew jerked around and cursed. “Where the hell did you come from, man?”

“I ran. Have you talked to Ivy?” I tried not to gasp the words as I sucked air into my lungs.

Sensing something was wrong, Trent stood up. “What’s the matter?”

I looked at their cars, also completely un-drivable. Perfect speed machines sitting right there taunting me.

I looked at Rimmel’s bubble and almost laughed.

I needed to get to Ivy, and I needed to get there fast.

The Hellcat.

“Rimmel inside?” I asked.

“Yes,” Drew said.

“I need you to stay here, watch her. Don’t freaking let her out of your sight.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Trent asked.

“Zach’s out.”

He sucked in a breath.

“I need you to watch Rim. Don’t leave her alone. Not even for a second.”

He nodded, and I took off running toward the garage.

“What about Ivy?” Drew yelled after me.

“I’ll take care of Ivy,” I yelled back.

In the garage, I snatched the extra set of keys off a nearby rack and hit the button to open the door. The Hellcat roared to life the second I turned the key, and the smooth sound of the engine gave me hope.

I backed out of the parking spot and navigated around Drew’s and Trent’s car parts and then tore down the street. I had no idea if Rome would be pissed about me tearing up the road in his car.

I didn’t have time to ask. I didn’t really care.

I sped to the boutique and pulled up right in front of the building. There was a power truck right down the street. Large spotlights provided light for them to work on something. From the looks of the pitch-black street, I would guess they were trying to restore power.

A gnarly feeling worked its way down the back of my neck, and intuition told me the power hadn’t just gone out because it was cold outside. When I got to the door of the boutique, I pushed and it opened.

It was so dark I couldn’t see a thing, so I pulled up my flashlight app and shined it into the room.

“Ivy!” I yelled.

The place was a mess. Racks of clothes were overturned; a display of jewelry was on its side. There was a stapler lying beside the door and pencils all over the floor. I shined the light down on the floor as I walked, looking for anything, a clue… a sign.

The light glinted off something shiny, and terror ripped me open.

I picked up Ivy’s necklace off the floor. The one she never took off.

This was the sign I was looking for. I knew she was in trouble. I knew he’d come here and somehow forced her out and was taking her somewhere with intentions I didn’t even want to think about.

I realized I was jumping to the worst possible scenario. I knew I could be totally blowing things out of proportion.

I prayed I was wrong.

But if I was right…

As I ran to the car, I shoved her necklace in my pocket and dove behind the wheel. I gunned the engine, making the men down the street turn and stare. I sat there for a minute, not sure where to go or what to do.

Where would he take her?

A single idea formed in the back of my mind. It was the best and only idea I had. On impulse, I ripped down the street and turned in the direction I wanted to go.

I had no idea if what I was thinking was even close to the truth, but I didn’t have the luxury of time. It was a gamble, a gamble that had really shitty odds.

A gamble I was going to take.

I had to.

I just prayed to God I held the winning hand.

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