One Way Or Another You Will Pay (23 page)

“Oh,
God, Warren!” Carefully, I remove the knife and place it on a couch. Then I look at it and stick it between the seats out of sight. (Mental note to myself: get rid of that goddamn knife!)

I
hug Warren once again. “Honey, you won’t need to do that. He’s going right back to prison, this time for longer. Count on it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, my baby, for sure.”

He
nods.

“You
know, Warren,” I say, cupping his little face with my hands, “I couldn’t ask for a better son. You are my silver lining. What would I have done without you?”

“What’s
a silver lining?”

I
chuckle and slap his butt. “Go Google it.”

It’s
1 AM and I’m pacing in the main bedroom of Soong’s house. Nearby, on Soong’s king-size bed, are my three children, fast asleep.

I’m
pretty spooked right now and the eeriness of the house, with its dark shadows and floorboards that speak to you, adds to my unease. Wish I had a lock on this bedroom door.

But
Tom has no idea where Soong lives, so I am not worried about
him.
Right now, I am worried about
spooks
and that prevents me from dragging a dresser across the door.

1
AM. No news from Bear yet.

My
stomach is now a tight ball of frayed nerves and I’ve ruined a French manicure with all my nail biting.

I
want to call Bear, to text him, but I won’t, for fear of distracting him.

2:02
AM. No word from Bear. I’m dying to call him, but …

3:03
AM. I get a text from Bear and I text back.

Bear:
Nothing maybe hes not comin

Me:
Ok take care I luv u Bear

Bear
: I luv u babe go to sleep

Although
I want to call Bear and talk for a while, just to hear his voice, I don’t. Can’t afford to distract him.

Instead,
I slip my phone into my bra and creep into bed with my kids.

In
the dark, I lie awake and stare at the high ceiling.

Maybe
he’s coming tomorrow night? Maybe he will come during the day?

Maybe
Ingrid lied?

3:35.
My eyelids grow heavy and I hear someone snoring. It’s me. I have a tendency to do that – hear myself snore before I eventually fall asleep.

I
smile to myself before I surrender to sleep.

I
awake when a hand is clamped to my mouth.

My
eyelids fly open.

“Tom!”
I mouth through his hand.

With
his free hand, he waves a 9 mm at me. “Do it here or there?” he mouths, jerking his head toward the door.

I
must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Tom has no idea where Soong lives.

When
I don’t answer, he shoves my head into my pillow with such force, I feel like my neck will break.

In
his steel grip, I shift my eyes toward the door.

A
tiny smile. He relaxes his hand just a little, enough for me to move my head to look at my three sleeping children, my heart slamming against my chest.

Warren
is fast asleep, Amy is at the edge of the bed, threatening to fall out, and Savannah’s head is on my stomach and her feet are on Warren’s.

Please,
don’t let my kids wake up.

I
move my eyes to look at Tom. His eyes shine in the dark.

“Any
tricks…” He points the gun at Warren’s stomach. “I did it once before, I can do it to again.”

My
head bobs.
I won’t try anything, I promise. Just don’t hurt him.

He
releases his hand from around my mouth and steps back, his gun trained on Warren.

Oh,
God!

I
slide out of bed and with my hands on my chest, I creep out the door. He follows.

As
I move, I feel for my phone in my bra.

I
need to press the ‘call’ key, I think through my terror.

“Where’s
your phone?” he whispers, as if reading my mind.

“In
my bag,” I lie, hoping to somehow buy some time so that I can call Bear.

“Where’s
your bag?”

“Downstairs.
My bag is downstairs.”

Please,
Bear, feel my fear and come for me.

“Move!”
he says, as he shuts the bedroom door.

I
shuffle downstairs toward the unlit living room, my feet feeling like lead, my mouth dry. “W…what do you want, Tom?”

He
lets out a small chuckle. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

I
turn around to face him – the man I framed for murder and double-crossed on the witness stand, the tyrant who promised to get me and is now doing just that.

I
should be terrified, but I’m beyond that.

“Why,
you, of course. I promised to come for you and here I am.” He smiles. “You think you can run from me? Exiting your house in a hurry in Fucker’s car?

My
eyes grow large. He was watching us? Oh my God!

“Yes,
I watched you from the house across the road.” His voice is proud.

“Across…?”
I cock my head. “What do you mean, ‘across the road?’”

He
smiles and throws out his arms. “I’m a genius, baby. The moment I escaped, I met with Ingrid, learned all about your meetings, and how you were going to buy the house off her and …” he shakes his head and grins, “she sold you out.”

“Oh,
God!” I mutter and hang my head.

He
laughs. “You want to outsmart me?
Me
? Not going to happen. The Simons? That couple? I got to know them.” He runs his hands down his chest.

It’s
then that I notice the white t-shirt, the cable-knit, brown cardigan, and beige pants that are being held up with a brown belt. Burt Simon’s clothes. “Oh, God!”

I
don’t like Meredith what she did for sure and, yes, I’d squash her pie again, but I certainly don’t wish any harm to her and her husband.

“Bet
you didn’t know about
Moley
?”

“Moley?”

“The new app that works in conjunction with Google Earth?”

I
shrug.

“I
didn’t think so. It shows you details about a property. Specific visuals, where each door and window is located on a property. It’s
every
criminal’s friend, so…” He slaps his chest, “it’s my friend too!” He grins as he opens and closes the cardigan he’s wearing. “Not my style, not my colour, not even my size, but, hey, they’ll have to do.”

His
smile vanishes and his eyes turn granite. “Phone!”

My
mind races. If Ingrid sold us out, then Tom probably went after Bear first.

“Did
…did you hurt Bear?” I feel a surge of hysteria shoot through me. “Where’s …where’s my husband? Where’s my …my Bear?” My voice cracks.

“
Your
bear? YOUR bear? He’s not coming for you ’cause I killed him, bitch. Now move!”

“No!
No!” I cry. “That’s…you…” I cover my face with my hands. “No, no!”

He
kicks me on my upper thigh. “Phone!”

I
lose my balance and fall, but quickly scramble to my feet again. He’s lying. He couldn’t have killed Bear. He’s lying.

I
need to call the cops. But how?

We
reach my bag, which is on a chair in the living room, where Warren and I chatted earlier on. Where I stuck the knife between the seats.

The
knife! I need to get to the knife.

But
first, I need to slip my phone out of my bra and into my bag. If Tom catches me doing that, he’ll probably hurt me for lying about the phone being in my bag.

But
it’s a chance I have to take.

Using
my body to shield the bag from his sight, and taking advantage of the darkness surrounding us, I, in what I hope is a smooth move, remove the cell phone from my bra and slip it into the bag. Then I made a big deal of searching for the phone. “Can you turn on the light?”

“Nope.”

I finally ‘locate’ my phone. Now, should I press the call button? Try Bear? He was my last caller earlier on in the day. If he is okay and not dead like Tom says he is, maybe he will hear us?

But
again, if Tom finds out…

I
have a nanosecond to make a decision.

I
press ‘call.’

“Give
me the fucking phone!” Tom snarls.

“Okay,”
I say and take the ringing phone out of my bag.

I
hold it out to him. When he tries to take it, I swing it out of reach.

“What
you gonna do to us?” I ask, playing for time.

“What
am I gonna do? I’ll tell you what
you’re
gonna do.
You’re
going to kill your three children and go to prison for murdering them.”

I
gasp, then shake my head.

He
rolls his eyes. “C’mon, it’ll be quick! All you have to do is decide which child you want to shoot first. I will guide you. Hold your hand, as you squeeze the trigger. Easy.” He winks then reaches for the phone again, and again, I swing it out of reach.

“I
won’t do it.”

“You
will. Because that’s the plan.” He reaches around and snatches the phone out of my hands. Without looking at the phone, he slips it into his pocket.

I’m
not sure if the call is still in progress because of all the moving around I did.

Terror
makes my knees wobbly and my legs threaten to give.

For
some reason, Tom touches the phone in his pocket. Is the call still live?

Hoping
to distract him, I say, “Did you …?”

He
looks at me, eyebrows raised.

“Tell
me, I need to know, Tom, tell me.”

He
frowns and looks up at me. “Tell you what?”

“Did
you kill the Simons?”

“Nah.
They’re still there, but let’s just say, they’re in a bind.” He laughs at his own joke. “In a bind, get it? Huh?”

I
say nothing.

“Of
course, you won’t, you little uneducated…” Without warning, he backhands me across the face and knocks me to the ground. My ears ring and I taste blood in my mouth.

“Fucking
bitch!” he says as he circles me. “That’s just a taste of what’s coming your way.” He kicks me in the ribs and I scream in agony into the carpet. I’m sure he’s cracked one of them.

I
lift the edge of my top to wipe the blood off my mouth.

As
he watches, he places the gun on a chair next to him and shrugs off his cardigan.

I
eye the gun.

“You
want it?”

I
look at him.

“Take
it,” he says as he pulls off his t-shirt.

I
look at the gun, then at him.

His
arms are now folded across his chest and his eyes shine, like he’s having fun.

“Go
on, take it. Let’s see you do it. I
challenge
you!”

My
eyes shift between his face and the gun. What if I manage to somehow get to it before him?

I’m
desperate right now. Should I?

Unfortunately,
I’m too chicken to take him up on his challenge. After the kicks and blows I received from him, I’m back to being Arena Botha.

You
know the “Boo! and you run?” That Arena.

“Thought
as much,” he says, in a voice filled his disgust. “Chicken shit.”

I
say nothing.

“Strip!”

I look at him without moving.

He
curls a fist, a menacing look on his evil face. “Don’t let me have to tell you twice.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.
If you want to rape me, then do it. But I’m not going to be a volunteer.” I get to my feet and walk to the couch where the knife is.

For
a moment, he seems at a loss for words. It suddenly dawns on me that I am not the same Arena I was years ago. I have grown, I have found my voice and dug deep to find my strengths.

I
am afraid of Tom, true, but I’ll be damned if I just lay down and die. I choose to fight until the end.

Carefully,
I sit down.

He
walks over and stands in front of me. We eye each other for a moment.

Slowly,
using the barrel of the gun, he parts my button-down top, pushes it aside to reveal my navy and pink polka-dot bra.

“Just
as I imagined,” he says, eyeing my breasts, licking his lips and unbuckling his belt with his free hand, his voice brimming with excitement. “This, I dreamed of.” He nods. “Just like this – me in control, you scared and helpless, begging for mercy as I have my way with you.” He smiles.

“Except
for the pink bit. I imagined you’d be clad in red. No, no, scarlet. Or black. Lacy, crotch-less. And you being thinner, firmer without those …” his face contorts, “those …stretch marks!”

The
look he gives me – you’d think I had a family of maggots on my breasts right now.

“Three
children...” I lift and drop my shoulders.

“No
excuse!” He wags his finger at me. “No fucking excuse for letting yourself go. Understand? None. It pisses me off when women blame their children as if the fuckers are still inside them! We must bang that? Really? Fuck no!”

As
he talks, my hand moves surreptitiously between the seats in search of the knife.

Got
it!

But
it’s still sheathed. To use it, I’d have to jerk it out of its hiding spot, use both hands to unsheathe it without cutting myself, then plunge it into him. Into a spot that would incapacitate him or even kill him.

But
his eyes never leave my face and a window of opportunity I require for that move, never materializes.

Still
using one hand, he removes his baggy pants and kicks it aside.

Clad
only in a pair of white boxers, he stands over me, blocking out the little light that sneaks in through the gaps in the curtains. Soong prefers curtains to blinds, but they’re always poorly hung. Right now, I’m grateful for the gaps.

Tom
places the gun on a chair close to him and shoves me back on the couch. “Now, you are going down memory lane. Going to remember what a real man feels like,” he says in a raspy voice.