Everything You Need (24 page)

Mary turned.

Kris shifted behind the shelf and rose onto her toes, so she could observe Mary unnoticed over the boxes of perfumes.

Mary tossed an orange square into the cart.

Kris squinted. What was that? Razor blades? She could be using them to shave her legs. But why had she chosen the men’s blades, when she could buy the ones intended for women?

Another item ended up in the cart.

Was that aftershave? Yes, it was. Razor blades Kris could understand, but aftershave...

Mary turned the cart and pushed it down the aisle.

From her handbag, Kris pulled out her phone and dialled Kalen’s number, all the while her eyes followed Mary’s back.

Kalen answered it on the fourth ring.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Is it something urgent?”

“Just a quick question, or two. Do you know where Mary lives?”

“You’re not thinking of dropping by for a visit, are you?”

“I just need to know which part of the town. Northwest?”

“South.”

Mary disappeared around the corner.

Kris stepped between the shelves where Mary had just stood and rushed after the brunette. What was Mary doing shopping in the Northwest part of the town? “Where does she work?”

“East.”

“Okay, thank you.” She turned off the phone and put it on vibrate before she pushed it back into her handbag. She came to the end of the shelves and peeked around them. She saw Mary in the distance, in line for bread, facing her. Pushing the hood of her sweater over her head, she went around the shelves, where her mother was waiting. “We have to find George.”

She called George and they met in Asian food, where Kris had a view of the cashiers. “I need a really big favour from you,” she said to him.

“What is it?”

“It’ a long story and it involves the man we met here, do you remember? The one who made a scene.”

“The one you were...” His eyes went to her mother.

“What man?” her mother asked.

“Yes.” Kris grimaced, thankful that he hadn’t finished that sentence. “That’s the one. He’s missing, and I believe a girl is behind his disappearance. A girl who is here, in this store, right now, shopping for razor blades and aftershave, even though she doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“And?”

“Can we follow her?”

He frowned.

Her mother tugged on her sleeve to get her attention. “Did you meet somebody and not tell me?”

“It’s just a friend,” Kris said to her mother before she faced George. “She doesn’t live or work in this area. She could have been visiting somebody and stopping on her way home, I know, but... I really need to know where she’s going, just in case --” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I have to make sure. He’s been missing for more than a week now, and I just want to make sure, you know. I just have to make sure.”

“We can follow her.”

“Thank you.” She took his hand and squeezed it. He really was such a good friend. “Okay.” She turned around, grabbing the cart. “We’d better pay for this and you two can take it to the car, while I keep an eye on Mary.”

“We’re not going yet?” Joanne pulled on the edge of Kris’s sweater. “I haven’t been to the shoe store yet.”

“You’ll have to do that some other time.” Kris tugged her sweater out of her mother’s hand.

“I told you that I wanted to see it.”

“Then why didn’t you go as soon as we got here?” Kris asked as she steered her mother toward the cashiers.

“I planned to go there after, with you.” Joanne fixed her feet against the ground, refusing to budge.

“We don’t have time for that. We’ll go some other time.”

“No, now.”

“Please, don’t do this to me, not now.”

“I want to go the shoe store.” Joanne pressed her lips together.

Irritation rose up and crashed over Kris like a wave. Why did her mother have to be difficult right at this moment? “This is important to me.”

But her mother was too used to getting her way, so she continued to insist on going to the shoe store.

Kris never refused her mother anything, not directly. Usually when she couldn’t or didn’t want to fulfil her mother’s wishes, she tried to distract her, too afraid that if she refused her directly, she would do something stupid out of spite, like turn to the bottle. “Fine. Go to the shoe store, but in that case, I hope you have money for the bus, because you’ll have to use it to get home.”

Her mother’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t?”

“Come on, George.” Kris pushed the cart toward the cashier. She didn’t have time to try to change her mother’s mind, and she refused to argue with her. If her mother wanted to go the shoe store, she could go, but she shouldn’t expect from them to wait for her. Her first priority right now was to get the items she had in her cart through a cashier and into the car, without Mary noticing her.

She succeeded. George went to the car with the groceries and her sulking mother, while Kris stayed on the lookout for Mary. She watched Mary while pretending to try on sunglasses in the drugstore, which window gave her a good view of the checkout lines.

Chapter 26

The ceiling was white, so white that it hurt Ashton’s eyes. He shifted his head and pain cut through his skull. His eyes closed. He concentrated, trying to ignore the pain, but it was there, a pulsing ache that held his mind in a cramp, preventing him from thinking. Not that there was much to think about. He knew where he was. In Mary’s new apartment, tied down with handcuffs that cut into the skin of his wrists and ankles with every move he made. He was exhausted, thirsty and hungry. By his head, on the pillow, was a brown stain and the remains of the pills he had vomited up. It was the reason why his head was relatively clear right now.

The chains of the handcuffs rattled as he tugged on the restraints that held his hands and legs, trying to ignore the pain as steel dug into his skin. Why couldn’t he break them? One glance at them told him that they were just cheap, fragile versions of the real thing, and yet he couldn’t break them. He was weak, so horribly weak. From the broken fragments of his memory, he knew that the key for the handcuffs was in the nightstand’s drawer. If he could reach it, somehow...

A jiggle of keys was followed by a click and the slide of the door.

He knew what it meant. Mary was home. He listened to her steps as she walked around, opening and closing the cabinets and refrigerator.

“I bought you razors and aftershave; we’ll shave you after lunch.”

His eyes opened and he lifted his head.

She stood at the counter by the sink, taking items out of the plastic bag. “I’m going to make cannelloni with spinach and beef for lunch. You like that, don’t you?” She turned. “You’re awake.” She rushed to him, her heels making click-clacks against the wooden flooring. She reached him and sat beside him, her eyes zooming to his wrists. “You’re bleeding.”

“Mary,” he croaked out. “What are you doing?”

“We need to fix this.” From the end-table she took a blue box and opened it. She took out a brown bottle and white cotton.

That wasn’t what he had meant. He moistened his lips and cleared his throat. “Mary, you have to let me go.”

“You shouldn’t strain yourself too much.” She poured the liquid onto the cotton and dabbed at the red lines on his wrist.

It burned, but with all the pain that coursed through his body it was like the prick of a needle. “It’s against the law, to hold somebody captive the way you are. You have to let me go, before it’s too late.”

“There’s a movie on tonight that I think that you are going to like, it’s a fantasy with action.” Carrying the bottle and cotton, she went around the bed, sat down and applied the liquid to his other wrist.

“People are probably already looking for me,” he said, even though he didn’t know how long he had been her prisoner. It could have been a few days, or it could have been weeks. “If you let me go now, we can work something out, so that you won’t go to jail.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Mary, you have to listen to me, please.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” She set the bottle and the cotton on the chest of drawers by the bed before she lay down beside him, resting her head on his chest.

“Mary, please. You can’t keep me here.”

“Why not?” With her finger she trailed the line of his collarbone before she pressed a kiss against his neck. “We belong together, we always have. We should have been together from the start, but Kate got in the way. She’s not here anymore, and you’re mine now. All mine.”

He closed his eyes for a second. “I never loved you, not the way you wanted me to, and I never will. I’m sorry, but I’ll never fall in love with you.”

With a frown, she climbed off the bed. “I’ll give you something to drink, and then I’ll make us lunch.”

He could have continued to try to reason with her and he could have begged her, but the way she behaved, nothing would penetrate the cloak of insanity that clung to her.

She walked to the sink. She turned on the faucet and took a glass from the cabinet beside it, while her gaze turned toward the window over the sink. Her shoulders tensed, and the glass slipped from her hand and dropped into the sink with a clack. “What is
she
doing here?” she hissed as she leaned farther over the sink.

She?

She wheeled around. “She’s going to ruin everything, again.”

“She?”

“Your precious little Kris.”

“Kris?” Kris was here? Joy spread through his body and warmed him from the inside out. Kris was here.

“Don’t look so happy.” Her face distorted into a mask of sharp lines. “I’ll take care of her.” She turned on her heel and stomped to the door.

Chapter 27

Two trees stood before the three-story house, one on each side of the driveway, their branches shadowing the pavement. They reminded Kris of guards. She lowered her gaze to the entrance door, took a deep breath and walked to it. There were eight plates with names, a bell beside each of them. She had heard Mary’s surname once, what was it? Something with a W. Her fingers slid over the plates. There was only one W here, Weber, but that didn’t sound familiar. No, Mary’s last name was different. She fixed her eyes on the upper left plate that was empty. Mary could be visiting somebody, or she could be the one behind the empty plate.

She sighed and rubbed her temple. What should she do? She took the phone out of her handbag. She had four calls, all of them from Kalen. She started a text message.
Mary can be found at this address
, she typed, adding the address that she found written above the building’s entrance, then sent it to Kalen. As soon as he got the message, he would probably call her, that was why she didn’t put the phone into her bag, but shoved it into the pocket of her jeans.

There was nothing else to do but walk to the bus station two streets away, which they had passed when they followed Mary’s pale green Fiat. She sighed again and stepped backward so that she could glance up at the building. She wished she could burst into wherever Mary was, knock the door down, then shove Mary down and save Ashton like some sort of superhero. But he might not be there, wherever Mary was hiding, and Kris was no hero. She was just a foolish girl, who hoped to find the man she loved.

The man I love,
she silently repeated to herself.
Love
. The word crashed over her like a storm, pushing the worry and the anxiety that she had tried so hard to suppress out into the open. The trepidation that had plagued her since she learned about Ashton’s disappearance suffocated her. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she hugged herself while her body wanted to double over.
Where is he? Is he okay? Let him be okay. Let him be okay, please
.

“What are you doing here?”

Kris’s head snapped up.

Mary stood by the entrance door, holding it open as she glowered at her with something that looked like hate in her eyes.

“Just passing by.”

“Like I believe you.” Mary’s eyes disappeared into slits as her face distorted into an ugly mask.

“I’m passing by just like you passed by my building. So, I can say, I’m returning the favour.”

“I’m just visiting.”

Kris crossed her arms.

“You don’t believe me?” Mary’s features smoothed; she appeared to be less hostile.

“Why do you care?”

“Do you want me to prove it?” Mary smiled. “Do you want to go up and meet my friend?” she asked sweetly.

It was fake, the smile, and Mary wasn’t offering to prove that she was telling the truth out of the goodness of her heart. No, she had to be up to something, but Kris wanted to go up. No, she needed to go up, to verify with her own eyes that Ashton wasn’t there. “Yes, I would like to meet your friend.”

Mary exhaled through her nose as if sighing. “Come on, then.” She pushed the door open wider, then turned around and walked down the hallway and up the stairs.

Kris hurried inside and followed her onto the third floor, then across the hallway to the door at the end.

Mary unlocked the door and waited for Kris to reach it before she shoved it open. “After you.”

If she was here on a visit, why was the door locked? And why did she have a key? Kris peeked into what appeared to be a studio apartment, with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook, sofa and low table before it. There was another door to the left of the sofa and cabinets on each side of it. And what was that behind the sofa? A bed? “Where is your -- Ashton?” Kris pushed Mary away and rushed inside. Yes, it was Ashton. She heard the click-clacks of Mary’s shoes behind her. She sidestepped the sofa and she was already at the foot of the bed.

“Kris?” Ashton blinked, then a big smile lit his face.

He sounded so breathless, so weak, but he was there. He was there, within her reach. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Ashton’s smile vanished. “Watch out!” he rasped out.

Watch out, what?
she was about to ask, as she wheeled around, following the direction of Ashton’s eyes.

Mary hurried toward her, her arm swinging, a knife in her hand.

Gasping, Kris jumped sideways.

The blade swished right past her arm.

“Are you crazy?” Why was she even asking? Kris kicked out, her foot hitting Mary’s knee.

Mary collapsed with a grunt.

Kris lunged at the brunette. She grabbed Mary’s wrist and twisted it, trying to force her to release the knife. “Let. Go. Of. It.”

“You can’t win,” Mary hissed between clenched teeth. She grabbed Kris’s blond hair and pulled.

Kris cried out, but she refused to release Mary’s hand. She dug her elbow into Mary’s ribs as they rolled across the floor. Her back hit a cabinet and the handle dug into her spine. She groaned.
I won’t let you win.

“Kris?”

“I’m fine,” she managed to gasp out, but she was far from fine. Her scalp burned and that psycho still gripped her hair, but she refused to let go of Mary’s wrist, which she held with both of her hands.

“He’s... mine.” Mary pushed all of her weight onto Kris, slamming her head into the hard wooden surface behind them.

Kris bit into her lip to stifle her cry while she lifted her knee and jabbed it into brunette’s stomach, pressing hard. “Actually...he’s... mine.” He was hers. “He loves me.
Me
, not you. And I love him, too.”

“You do?” Ashton’s asked, his voice laced with something like wonder.

A growl came from the depths of Mary’s throat and her face twisted; the hate that Kris had glimpsed a few minutes earlier now glowed without restraint, dark and dangerous. “Die! Die!” she screamed and shoved Kris’s head against the cabinet again.

“Kris!” Ashton’s voice sounded so desperate and fragile.

Kris hauled her head away, a sharp cry escaping from her mouth as her hair tore away from her head. A patch of her scalp burned. She pulled herself up and onto Mary. She had her knee on Mary’s belly and the other on Mary’s shoulder. She lifted Mary’s arm and, with all the strength she could muster, she shoved it against the floor, twisting Mary’s wrist. “Let go of it!”

“No!” Mary bucked under her, trying to get Kris off her.

The knife slipped from Mary’s fingers.

Kris shoved it away.

It flew under the bed.

“Ashton.” Kris jumped up.

“No, you don’t.” Mary grabbed her ankle.

Kris kicked her.

Mary’s fingers loosened as she rolled over, curling up.

Kris closed that three steps that separated her from the bed and Ashton.

Ashton lifted his head. “You’re bleeding.”

He was tied down, with handcuffs. “What has she done to you?” Her fingertips touched his cold, hollow cheeks. She would make Mary pay for this.

A hand wrapped around Kris’s leg and pulled.

Kris fell down. Her belly collided with the edge of the bed, while her face banged against the mattress.

Something round and bony pressed into her back, a knee, while fingers pulled on her hair, forcing her to arch her spine. “He’s mine,” Mary screamed.

Kris reached backwards, trying to grab Mary. Her eyes found Ashton’s.

“He’s mine!” the brunette shrilled.

“I’m sorry.” Ashton’s gaze was filled with sorrow and regret. He looked so broken. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s going to be okay,” she said between gasps, even though right at that moment, it did not seem like it. “It’s going to be okay.” Because she was going to make it okay -- she would -- because there was no way she would leave him to the mercy of this maniac. She managed to grab a fistful of Mary’s shirt and, with all the strength she had, she hauled it away from her.

The brunette fell sideways on the bed and then slid off, pulling Kris down with her. “He’s mine!”

Kris rolled onto Mary, using her weight to push her down into the ground. She grabbed a fistful of brown hair. “Payback is a bitch.” She slammed Mary’s head against the floor.

Mary screamed.

Kris shoved her head against the floor again.

The door burst open and footsteps rushed over the wood.

An arm wrapped around Kris’s waist and pulled her away from Mary, while two men in dark suits filled her vision. They stopped beside Mary, grabbed her arms and pulled her up.

“It’s okay,” Camden’s voice said.

Kris looked at the man holding her. It wasn’t Camden, it was Kalen. Relief surged through her and she slumped into his arms. The undulating pain lingering at the edge of her mind exploded, veiling her sight.

Flashes lighted the room, accompanied by clicking sounds.

Ashton!
Her spine strengthened. “Let go of me,” she ordered, and as soon as Kalen released her, she was on the bed, beside Ashton, her hands trailing over his greyish skin, slick with perspiration.

“You are bleeding, on the side of your head,” Ashton whispered.

“Don’t touch him!” Mary screamed.

Kris touched her head, then looked at the fingers that came away smeared with blood.

“Are you all right?”

Kris smiled down at Ashton. “It’s just superficial.”
I think.

Flashes lit Kris’s vision and the white pulsing light irritated her eyes. “Stop it,” she snapped at the older man, who was taking pictures of Ashton.

“It’s evidence.” Kalen’s hand lowered onto her shoulder.

“Don’t you dare touch him. He’s mine!” Mary continued to yell, her words smashing against each other until they become an incomprehensible mess of syllables.

Ignoring Mary, Kris narrowed her eyes at the older, slightly chubby man, who looked familiar. She had seen him in the shopping centre, standing in the same aisle as Mary. “Fine, let him take pictures then,” she said before her focus was back on Ashton. “What has she done to you?” She pressed her lips together as she fixed her gaze on red-rimmed eyes and tiredness that clung to Ashton’s skin like a grey paleness.

“Hesmine, hesmine.”

“Take her away,” Kalen ordered.

“No, no,” Mary’s voice was coarse from screaming, and it lost its volume as the men dragged her away, until it was silenced by the door that slammed shut behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton said.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is, partly. I shouldn’t have taken her obsession with me as lightly as I did.”

“It’s not your fault,” she stubbornly repeated. Yes, he could have prevented this situation if he had been more cautious with Mary, but her insanity and obsession weren’t his doing. Mary’s craziness had always been there, and if it hadn’t been triggered by Ashton, it would probably have been triggered by somebody else.

“Are you really all right?” Ashton asked in a small voice, and when he moved his hand as if he wanted to touch her, the handcuff rattled.

“I just have a headache,” she told Ashton, withholding the information that she was seeing black dots before her eyes because of it, before she turned to Kalen and pointed at the handcuffs. “Get them off, please. Get them off.”

“They’re in the drawer, the keys,” Ashton said.

Kris turned to the nightstand, but Kalen was already there. He pulled the drawer open, grabbed the keys, then pushed his way past Kris so that he could reach Ashton’s wrist.

Ashton’s arm was free. He flinched.

“Are you okay?” She caressed his face.

Wincing, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. “It hurts a little. But I’m fine, just fine.” He smiled tiredly. “Now that you’re here.”

She snuggled against his neck and wrinkled her nose. “You stink.” And his stubble tickled her forehead, but she refused to move away from him.
He’s okay. He’s okay. As okay as a man chained to a bed for a week can be.

“But you love me anyway.”

“Yes, I do.” She held onto his shoulders, held onto him, tightly, afraid that if she released him, he would disappear again.

“I’m so glad.” His hand caressed her back, then slid down and off her body, while the embrace of his arm loosened. His arms fell onto the mattress.

“Ashton?”

There was no answer.

She lifted her head and fear like frost crawled over her, numbing her body. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Ashton. Ashton.”

“What’s happening?” Kalen hurried to them from the foot of the bed.

Ashton snored.

“He fell asleep.” She pressed her hand before her mouth, not knowing if she was laughing or crying, while a salt taste filled the corners of her mouth. She gently slapped his chest. “You scared me, you idiot.”