Текст книги "Deliver Her from Evil "
Автор книги: M. L. Steinbrunn
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
“Wait a minute, wasn’t that line from some viral twitter feed or something?” I ask.
His guilty eyes slowly move to mine and he chuckles. “I think the pink tacos give it a little something extra. I thought the words fit and was hoping you don’t follow the women’s inspiration quotes feed.”
I laugh at the idea of him reading daily chick motivation. “You really are a mystery to me, Royce. If I find copies of Cosmopolitan or Elle magazine at your place, we may have to deepen this conversation,” I joke.
“Hey! Cosmo has some great articles!” he defends. “And the chicks on the covers are hot!”
We both grin and he stretches out his arm for me to take. “Come on, pink, let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”
I wrap my arm through his and he leads me past the college girls and Wanda without a second glance or goodbye. His sole focus is getting me where I want to go, together. My heart may have pounded a little harder in his arms.
Carly
How he talked me into this, I’ll never know.
That’s not true. I know exactly why he was able to convince me to go. Other than the girls, Royce has become my closest friend, so when he asked me to go to his niece’s birthday party with him, I couldn’t help but say yes.
Jack has Olivia for the weekend, and now that I have Leah’s room all ready for her, she’ll be moving in next week. So really, this is not only just a free weekend, but may be my last free weekend for a while. Fall is starting to take hold of the year and the girl’s activities, and of course Jen’s wedding will consume our lives.
“You nervous or something?” Royce asks, pointing to my bouncing knee. I’m trying to be cool and collected about going to this family gathering, but in all honesty, I’m freaking out a bit. He has said very little about them. I know he has sisters…and that’s it. I asked the other guys in the band and they didn’t even know he had sisters. Apparently, he keeps his family life private. Still, I’d like to be prepared if I’m walking into the snake’s den. If Royce’s personality is any indication, I should ready myself for the Raiders of the Lost Arc snake lair.
“I’m good,” I lie. “Just had too much coffee.”
His knowing smile and shake of his head suggest he’s not buying my line of crap. So, I do what any girl would–change the subject.
“This is a really nice neighborhood. Do all of your siblings in the area?”
His eyes brighten and an aura of pure love radiates from him. “Yeah, my older two live just a few miles from each other and my younger two are in Ft. Collins at CSU. They come home often though. Family dinners every Sunday, you know.”
I simply listen and nod, envious of his close-knit family. I get along with my family well, but we are a small, quiet crew. I’m picturing Royce’s family as a loud, almost overwhelming group, which makes me even more nervous but also excited.
We pull into the idyllic driveway lined with perfectly manicured bushes. The white picket fence and wrap-around porch are Leave It to Beaver overload, and I can barely hide my jealousy. When I was a little girl and I pictured what my adult life would look like, this was what I wanted. The house, the huge family with so many grandchildren I would call out ten incorrect names before landing on the right one, and the husband who I would hold hands and grow old with, is what I envisioned.
But that’s not what I got dealt. My cards included lies, divorce, and loneliness.
I swallow down my sadness for a dream lost and put on the most convincing smile I can muster as Royce opens the car door and leads me up the pathway to the front door. He knocks on the large red door as he opens it.
“Becca! We’re here,” he shouts into the house.
We are immediately met by a very familiar brunette and my smile fades.
“Everyone is in the kitchen,” Hannah says with a warm greeting.
I turn toward Royce and narrow my eyes at him. I realize we aren’t together, but to invite me to a family gathering and also invite his whatever she is, is just sick and wrong. I never would have agreed if he had told me I would serve at the third wheel pity invite.
“It’s so good to see you again, Carly,” she says.
Turning back to her, I whip out my manners. “It’s good to see you too. I had no idea you were going to be here.”
“Yeah, me either, but Mom threw a fit when I said I was going to stay in Ft. Collins for the weekend. Royce told us all you were coming, so I cancelled plans with my boyfriend and drove down.”
My head snaps back and forth between the two of them.
“But I thought…” I begin to say. “But you said…” I can’t seem to make my brain function enough to make a complete sentence. Synapses are misfiring and all I can think is Blackhawk Down! Blackhawk Down!
“You’re not his sleeping buddy?” I finally spit out. Sleeping buddy? Did I just seriously ask his sister if he was her sleeping buddy? There is no amount of alcohol that will fix this massive blunder.
Her nose wrinkles and she looks to Royce, “Ewwww.”
“What’s ewwww?” a pretty blonde says, walking into the room.
“Oh, you know, Royce never told Carly I was his sister, so all this time, she thought I was sleeping with him,” she says disgustedly.
“Ewwww,” the blonde says, followed by a boisterous laugh. “Royce, if this sweet woman ever agrees to date you, I suggest you buy a lottery ticket because after putting her through this, you would be the luckiest man on Earth if she said yes,” she adds.
Royce attempts to defend himself, but his sisters shush him and Hannah speaks over him.
“I’m sorry, Carly,” Hannah says. “I thought he told you.”
“I’m Becca,” the blonde introduces herself, holding out her hand. “Please don’t let my brother’s poor social skills sway your feelings about our family. I promise, most of us are normal.” She pulls me into a hug and leads me into the kitchen where the rest of the family is.
There are smiling people completely filling the space. “Everyone, this is Carly,” Becca says when we enter the kitchen. She is still holding onto my shoulder, and Royce doesn’t try to pull me away. Instead, he follows close behind and allows his sister to run the show.
I offer a wave similar to the wave that Hannah once gave me and the girls. “Great to meet everyone,” I shyly say.
An older woman with shoulder-length silver hair moves around the kitchen island and briskly walks to me. As she gets closer, I can see where Royce and his sisters get their looks. She pulls me into a warm embrace and solidly wraps her arms around me.
“We’ve heard so many great things about you, hun. I’m glad my son finally got the guts to bring you around. You’re actually the first girl he’s ever brought home.”
My eyes widen and find Royce in the sea of people. He looks as uncomfortable as I feel. He swoops in and pulls me away from his mother.
“All right, womenfolk. That’s enough fawning; you’re going to scare her off,” he says, wrapping a tattooed arm around me. His mother smiles at his affectionate gesture. I feel like I’ve just been through some kind of auditioning process and I’ve moved onto the call back list. I just don’t know what I was interviewing for.
Royce
Carly spent the evening wiggling her way into my family’s hearts just as she has mine. She laughed with my sisters, listened to every embarrassing story my mom and dad shared, sang happy birthday for my niece, and even played a game of checkers with the kids. I knew they would love her, but I needed their green light before I pursued anything. My family means everything to me, so the girl I decide to date needs to mesh with everyone, and Carly meshes.
My mom wasn’t lying when she said I’ve never brought a girl home. I’ve never had a girlfriend to bring home. Have I slept with women? Fuck, I’m surprised my dick hasn’t fallen off. Have I actually dated any of them, or introduced them to my parents? Hell no.
Carly is different. She is settle down, wife and kids, growing old together different, and I’m willing to wait however long it takes to have the chance to be her different, her something special.
My mother’s words play over and over in my head as we walk back to the car after the party. ‘She’s a sweetheart, Royce. Don’t break her heart.’ Her words repeat in my head and are so damn true; I’m scared to death. I’ll do anything in my power not to hurt this woman. I just don’t know if she’ll give me the chance to prove it.
My shoes pound against the pavement and with each step I wish more and more that my sister had a longer driveway. We reach the car quicker than my courage can materialize, and when she reaches out for her door handle, it takes me a moment to realize it’s now or never.
“Wait, I have something for you,” I tell her, hitting the key remote to open the trunk.
She retracts her hand and stands surprised as I walk to the back of the car and pull out a large wrapped present.
“I think I’ve had enough surprises for one night,” she says with a giggle.
“I’m hoping you might actually want this one, though,” I say, handing her the gift. The box is huge; I could barely fit it in the trunk, and she has to set it on the cement to open it.
She looks at me suspiciously and I have to urge her to tear open the wrapping paper. When the flaps of the box open and reveal the hundreds of Ping-Pong balls inside, her brows pull together in confusion.
“There’s a card,” I explain before she can ask.
Reaching into the box, her hands maneuver around the little white balls trying to find the card. I want to laugh, but my nerves stifle the notion. She finally finds the envelope and rips it open, pulling out the card inside.
“I finally found the balls to ask you out,” she reads aloud.
Her silence has me freaking the fuck out. I was hoping to score points for creativity, but I’m thinking my move ended up immature. Just as I open my mouth to explain, grovel, apologize, take your pick, she burst into laughter.
She laughs so hard tears pour down her cheeks, and I’m speechless. I don’t know if I’ve insulted her, if I blew my chance, but I’m thinking I’m in danger of being slapped.
She dries her eyes with the back of her jacket sleeve and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t say yes, she doesn’t say no, she says nothing at all. No, Carly steps forward, moves up onto her tip-toes, and kisses me.
I’m shocked at first, but then I take over, deepening a kiss that I’ve waited weeks to relive. When my lips touch hers, I taste a future I never thought I would have, and with every passing second I become more and more addicted to a love I could never let go of.
Carly
The mountain of paperwork in the backseat is staggeringly overwhelming. When my lawyer called today and asked me to pick it all up and go through it, I was expecting a few folders, not an entire box. The accountant hired to audit our accounts for the divorce case found things that needed explaining, so instead of the date Royce and I had planned for the evening, here I am, going through it all.
“Label and identify all accounts and transactions that you’re familiar with,” is what the accountant said. The task is daunting, since I never really concerned myself with our financials. Jack always took care of everything; he is an investment banker after all. I’m not sure what help I would be with all of this.
Thankfully, Vivian and Brooks are keeping Olivia to work on their group Halloween costumes and Leah is staying the night at a friend’s house so I can spend the evening trudging through the numbers.
I hoist my purse over my shoulder and open the backseat to load the cardboard box into my arms; I’m shocked by the weight. Never in a million years would I have thought we would have money in so many places and accounts and real estate ventures with my name on them. Joint savings and checking accounts and life insurance policies were all I was aware of.
Apparently, Jack was keeping more than just a vasectomy from me.
My phone dings just as I reach the steps to the house. I struggle to quickly unlock the door and get inside. I nearly drop the box and its contents on the ground before I can get it deposited onto my kitchen table. Digging through my purse on my way to my bedroom, I finally find my phone and the text message waiting for me.
Royce: Are you sure you don’t want me to come help, maybe just keep you company?
I pause in the hallway to think about my answer. Would I like him to come over? Yes. Should he come over? No. I’m about to dive into a swimming pool of lies, and I don’t want to depend on him as my life preserver. I need to face this mess, this sham of a marriage on my own, and it might be a very emotional experience. I don’t want him here to see that, to see me like that.
Me: Thank you for offering, but I need to do this alone.
I shoot off the text and walk into my bedroom. Flipping on the light, I notice the light is on in the master bathroom. Leah must have forgotten to shut it off before she left for her friend’s house. I turn it off and head to my armoire in my closet to hang up my scarf and put away my jewelry from the day when my phone dings again.
Royce: I’m booorrrred.
I laugh, thinking about him rolling his eyes and giving his best pretend whine, like Olivia would. I slip off my shoes and kick them to the back of the closet as I type my response.
Me: I’m sure the boys are up to something. Give them a holler.
I’m rummaging through my pajama draw when my phone buzzes again.
Royce: Shitty alternative. I may or may not show up on your doorstep. Skip the sweatpants and wear something pretty for me. Love ya, pink.
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. Deciding to play it safe, I select the yoga pants instead of the cozy flannel set I had planned on wearing. The silly smile on my face is still in place as I lift my eyes from the drawer of clothes to the mirror attached to the dresser.
I’m shocked by what I see.
Jack.
When my eyes meet his, my smile disappears and is quickly replaced with fear.
I drop the clothes and try to punch the buttons on the phone. Before I can scream, before I can run, he hits me across the back of the head with something hard and unforgiving. I feel the blood drip from the wound as I fall to the floor.
I fight to remain conscious, but the darkness is too much and I drowned in the softness of its embrace. A black abyss surrounds me and my mind tumbles away from the reality of the moment. I hear his footsteps and see his hand pick up my phone before the blackness takes me.
The throbbing in my head is provoking waves of nausea like I have never known. I try to cover my mouth, but my hands are frozen, stuck in place. I struggle against the ropes which bind my hands behind the chair I’m sitting in, but it’s futile. They are tight, and every time I move, they bite my skin even more. My head is down and shoulders are slouched, but I try to take in my surroundings. I slowly crack open my eyes but the light forces them shut again and exacerbates the pain in my head.
I hear a defeated moan escape my lips followed by footsteps. His boots against the tile cause me to freeze, pretend like I’m still unconscious.
“No need to pretend, Carly,” Jack whispers next to my ear. “I know you’re awake. Besides, our other guest will be here soon, and you won’t want to miss it.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask hesitantly as I work to open my eyes.
“Why?” he huffs, pacing in front of me. I can feel the anger rolling off him and it terrifies me.
“Please, Jack. Let me go. I haven’t done anything to you,” I plead, my voice trembling from the tears I’m holding at bay and the knot in my throat.
“You took everything from me, you stupid bitch!” he roars as his hand flies back and swings forward connecting with the side of my face. My head snaps to one side and a light flashes behind my eyelids. The violent impact makes my head pound and the nausea to spike, causing bile to rise in my throat.
The skin on my cheek tingles and the taste of iron fills my mouth. The crushing pain forces a sob from my chest.
“What do you want?” I cry, tears now streaming down my face.
“You know, I almost feel sorry for you. You’ve always been a little slow on the uptake, but your stupidity astounds me at times,” he heckles as he pulls out a chair from the kitchen table, flips it around, and takes a seat next to me.
“Our marriage was one of convenience. I needed your identity to embezzle the money I was stealing from my clients. A few more years and I would have had the nest egg I wanted. But then you had to go and get nosey and fuck up my whole plan.”
“What are you talking about? We have a daughter together.”
“The kid? Yeah, that was one big damn misstep,” he says, cutting me off. “I made sure to correct that mistake from happening again.”
He taps the box from my lawyer’s office that’s on the table. “I was planning to slowly start siphoning funds from the accounts and businesses that you are CEO of, to new off-shore accounts. I just needed to disappear, and if anyone had questions, you would be the one to have to answer for them as your name was all over the documentation. That was the plan, but now Plan B will have to work.”
“Did you really think you could get away with something like that?” I ask, bewildered by what I am hearing.
“Everything was working well, until that bitch Campbell got involved and encouraged you to hire a lawyer. That audit has ruined everything. Thankfully, my name isn’t anywhere near that box of fraud; it’s all on you, babe. Everyone will see me as the unsuspecting widower whose wife was caught up in illegal activities on the verge of getting caught. I’ll just dump the brat in some boarding school, and start over with what money I’ve managed to move already and the nice little life insurance policy you’ve left for me.”
“You can’t do this,” I cry, fighting against the ropes.
“Oh, Carly,” he says sarcastically. “I already have. As soon as our other loose end gets here, I can finish this up and be done with you.”
The doorbell rings, and Jack covers my mouth as I try to scream for Campbell to run, to get help.
“We don’t need you ruining the surprise,” he says as he replaces his hand with a piece of duct tape. He then pushes the chair I’m sitting in away from the table and closer to the corner of the kitchen. Jack picks up my cell phone and sends a text message before winking at me and leaving the kitchen.
“Carly? I’m here,” I hear Campbell shout from the entrance. “Where are you and what is so important that I had to drop everything and get here right now?”
I pull and tug against the rope, but I accomplish nothing but irritating the skin further. My wrists feel raw, every movement sending stinging sensations up my forearms.
“Carly? Where are you?” she calls, her footsteps getting closer to the kitchen. As soon as I see her in the kitchen doorway, I try to scream but the tape makes my voice sound more like just muffled noise. Her eyes widen in shock and she rushes to me to rip the tape from my mouth. I pull away from her as the tape tears tiny hairs from my skin and my eyes water.
“Jack,” I pant. “He’s in the house and planning to kill us both. You have to run, Campbell, get help.”
“What?’ she exclaims as she runs around to untie my hands. “What is this all about? Why would he want to hurt you? He’s the one who was cheating.”
As soon she frees my hands, the ease in tension forces my shoulders to heave forward. A warm ache radiates from my muscles. She hustles back around to help me from the chair before pulling her cell phone from her pocket.
“You don’t understand,” I insist, grabbing the box from the table. “We need to get out of here. We can call the police once we’re in your car.”
“You really should have listened to her,” I hear Jack say as he reenters the kitchen. “Now there’s nowhere to run.” I spin around, tightly grasping the box in both hands. Jack is standing behind Campbell with his knife held to her throat. She is breathing hard, her neck grazing the blade with every exhale.
“Put the box back, and use that duct tape to bind her wrists,” he demands.
I hesitate, unsure of what would be the best way to help my friend. Do I run and get help, trusting that he doesn’t hurt her, or do I comply with the hope she and I can get ourselves out of this mess together?
“Now,” he yells, digging the knife into her neck, just enough to draw blood.
“Okay. Okay, Jack. Please don’t hurt her,” I plead, placing the cardboard box down and grabbing the duct tape.
I slowly spread the tape around her wrists, but my eyes never leave hers. “Don’t,” she mouths as I layer the tape.
I tear off the piece from the roll and grip it firmly. “I can’t leave you here,” I say quietly.
Jack throws Campbell to the ground and grabs me to tape my hands together, just like Campbell’s. “You have a chance to get away and you waste it? You are as stupid as I always thought,” he huffs, winding the tape around my wrists and tearing the end from the roll.” He pushes me to the ground next to Cam and pops the lid off of the box.
Sliding the chair in front of us and taking a seat, he picks through the papers from the box. “No one had to die, you know,” he explains. “I just wanted the money, and then I was going to disappear. But then you two complicated everything. There’s no way around it now, you two can’t exist.”
“And how do you expect to keep your name away from our deaths?” Campbell pops off. There is no fear in her voice, no hesitation, just a sass I’ve never heard from her before. “I’ve always thought you to be a fairly intelligent man, Jack, but you’re delusional if you think you’ll walk away from this.”
Jack just laughs as he scatters some of the papers across the table. “You’re right, Campbell. The difficulty is going to be staging it just right. The murder suicide needs to look perfect. But you know what?” he says, tucking the knife into the waist of his jeans and smiling at her.
We both shake our head.
“If all else fails, it’s nothing a little house fire can’t cover up.” He doesn’t give us a second thought as he turns toward the kitchen cabinets and begins opening drawers, looking for a lighter.
Fear completely takes hold of my senses while Cam’s confidence doesn’t waver. She is calm and collected, like she has a plan she just hasn’t filled me in on.
They say when you have nothing to lose, you’re not afraid of losing. Sitting here, looking at Campbell, I’ve never believed that more. She has no family, no husband, and no children. It’s just her and she’s willing to look death in the face and spit on him, while I sit here frozen in place with everything to lose. My girls need me. I can’t let them be sent away to boarding school or another foster family or group home, yet here I sit…terrified.
I think the saying is wrong; it’s the fighters like her that always survive.
Campbell nods toward Jack who is searching through the papers in the box and then quietly slides up the wall. She gathers her bound hands above her head and then quickly forces them down upon her thighs, causing the tape to tear. A grunt escapes her lips and Jack turns to see her pulling the rest of the tape apart and away from her wrists.
He reaches for his knife as both of them lunge for each other in the middle of the kitchen. Panicked, I stand and attempt to remove the tape the same way Cam did, but it won’t separate. I frantically pull and tug, but they are stuck together.
Jack throws her against the refrigerator and she struggles against the arm holding the knife. The thud of her back hitting the stainless steel grabs my attention. She can’t hold him off much longer without help.
As fast as I can, I charge toward them and jump onto Jack’s back, pulling his hair and scratching his face. The three of us crash against the fridge and Campbell lets out a scream. When Jack pulls away from her, she slinks to the floor. I’m entirely focused on Jack, clawing, biting, trying everything I can to hurt him. But he then gains his footing, spins, and flips me over his back onto the table.
The box flies off and documents fill the air. A shooting pain splinters through my back, and it knocks the wind out of me.
Coughing, I fall off the table onto the floor where I’m met with Jack’s boots; the steel-toe connects with my rib. The crack followed by the inability to draw a full breath tells me it’s broken. I roll away from him, trying to get away, protect myself as much as possible from any further assault.
“I don’t know where you think you’re going,” he says, grabbing my hair and forcing me to my feet. Once standing, I see Campbell on the floor, unconscious, with a pool of blood surrounding her.
Tears fill my eyes as I realize I’m on my own.
If I want to live, I have to save myself.
Everything hurts. I’m so battered, but if I don’t act, it won’t matter.
“I thought I would do this quick, show a little mercy. Not anymore, Car. You’re going to feel every bit of this night,” he rasps, tugging my hair back.
I try to think as quickly as I can. I’m at such a disadvantage, my hands are still bound, I’m injured, and he’s bigger. There’s no way I can fight my way out this. I have to get out of his grasp and run. I have to get help here for Campbell.
Jack is keeping me close to his chest, one hand in my hair and the other clutching the knife. He’s moving us backward across the kitchen, as to keep an eye on Campbell.
I mentally prepare myself to get away. Just before we reach the entry to the kitchen, I bring my foot down to stomp on his instep.
“What the fuck?” he exclaims, stumbling back. I lace my fingers together and rear my elbow back, landing it in his stomach, knocking him further off balance. He lets go of my hair, but then trips over the box, which had flown off the table.
I turn to run, but he grabs my shirt and pulls me down with him as he falls to the floor. We land and the metal of the knife scrapes across the hardwood floor.
It’s my chance. Possibly my last chance.
Kicking my legs at him as hard as I can to get out of his reach, he finally unhands me and I’m able to roll away from him. I scramble, my elbows and knees pounding on the hardwood with each movement, but my mind blocks the pain, and I stay concentrated on the objective.
Get the knife and run.
Get the knife and run.
He’s crawling, stumbling behind me, my moment of freedom slipping away. His groans and profanities are getting closer, but my panic subsides as adrenaline takes over. I feel the cool metal of the knife in my shaking hands, and I grip it tightly, letting its slick body meld to my skin. It provides a moment of peace, security in a time of chaos.
Jack grabs my shoulder to force me to my feet, and as I turn, I jab the blade forward. I put every bit of my might, every ounce of energy I have left, into holding that knife.
His body strains as the blade enters his chest and I hold my breath, waiting for whatever absolution will follow. He inhales deeply as though it will be his last, but I hang onto the blade, I cannot will myself to let go.
“I won’t let you win,” I scream, tears flowing down my cheeks.
He exhales and his body crumples on top of me, crushing me below him. I feel the life drain out of him, and it’s only when he stops breathing that I find the will to breathe again.
My heart is pounding; my breathing is to point of hyperventilating.
Jack is dead.
I’ve killed him; his motionless body on top of me a reminder of that.
I gain some semblance of my composure and push him off me, the knife still solidly buried in his chest.
“Oh, my God,” I hear Royce stammer. I look up to see him standing in the living room taking in the bloody scene.
“Please, call the police,” I choke out.
He rushes to me and breaks the tape from my wrists. “What the fuck happened here?” he asks, examining me for injuries.
“I’m okay. This isn’t my blood. Please just call the police.”
He nods and pulls his cell phone from his pocket. He wraps an arm around me and steers me from the living room, but I break away.
“No. Campbell,” I say adamantly before turning from him and rushing to the kitchen.
I see her where I left her, propped against the refrigerator and I can’t get to her fast enough. I kneel down next to her and try to shake her awake, but she isn’t moving. Blood has saturated her shirt where the blade penetrated her abdomen.
I grab a towel from the drawer next to us and press it against her wound to stop the bleeding. Resting my head on her chest, I listen for a breath, a heartbeat, anything that would tell me she’s going to be okay.
“Please don’t go, Campbell,” I whisper to her. “You’re my family.”
