Red Red Rose (28 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Hoffman McManus

BOOK: Red Red Rose
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Twenty-Five

 

 

 

I
woke in the dark, feeling nauseous and disoriented. It only took a second to
realize that I was in the trunk of a car. More than likely a faded black
Camaro, and we were traveling fast.

How
did this happen? I was having trouble breathing through the fear and panic.

Will.

It
was Will all along.

But
he was my friend. God, I was so stupid because he clearly was not my friend. He
was . . . I didn’t even want to think about what he was. Or what was going to
happen to me once this car stopped. I had no idea how long I’d been out or
where he was taking me, but survival mode kicked in, pushing the terror back
until I could manage it. My hands weren’t bound, so I felt around the trunk for
anything that might be useful. It was empty except for me.

I
tried to think back over the what-if scenario of being trapped in a trunk. This
was not a newer model car so I doubted there was a trunk release. I searched
for one anyway, only to come up disappointed. The only other possible solution
that came to me was to try and get to the tail lights. It was difficult to see
and very cramped inside the trunk, but I wiggled myself to where I thought one
should be and started prying at the panel covering it. It wasn’t as easy as I
hoped and my fingers hurt with the effort, but I didn’t quit.

It
felt like forever before I finally got a small section peeled back. I felt
around and was pretty sure I located the wires. I didn’t know whether to yank
those, or just to try and kick out the light. Depending on what road we were
on, a busted out light would probably get more attention that just a burned out
one. Then I could go for the second one.

I
had to flip my whole body around to get my feet in position to start kicking. I
only hoped the noise of the road would cover what I was about to do, or that if
it didn’t, he wouldn’t risk stopping. Or maybe it would be better if he did. I
could be ready, make my move as soon as he popped the trunk and then run for
it.

I
never got the chance. I didn’t even get my first kick in before I felt the car
slow and then turn onto a dirt road. By then I knew it was too late. If we were
on a dirt road, it meant there likely wasn’t going to be anyone around to see a
busted taillight. Still, I couldn’t do nothing, so I kicked and kicked, not
worrying about the noise, until I felt the light give way.

I
hurried to try and look out of the hole I’d created, but it was difficult to
get my face in there and too dark to see anything anyway. I definitely didn’t
see the headlights of any other cars around, confirming my fear that this
wouldn’t do me any good. All I could do was lie in wait and hope I’d still get
my chance to run for it when he let me out of the trunk. It was a long wait, or
maybe it was the fear dragging out every second, but it felt like hours passed
on this damn road, riveted with potholes. And then the car slowed again, before
coming to a stop completely.

The
engine shut off and my heart rate skyrocketed. I tried to ready myself. My shot
was coming. I wished there was a tire iron or anything in here I could use,
better yet, my purse with Stella, but I’d have to make do with my fists and
feet. Hopefully he wouldn’t be expecting me to fight.

Who
was I kidding? Of course he was expecting it.

I
heard his door open and shut and I tensed, but then no other sound followed. I
didn’t hear his footsteps coming around, and I definitely didn’t hear him
release the trunk. I listened carefully, wondering if he was out there,
waiting, trying to catch me off guard. I wouldn’t let that happen, so I stayed
ready, prepared at any second to leap from this trunk like a flying ninja
monkey and scratch his eyes out if that’s what it took.

The
only thing I heard for the next several minutes was silence, and I was
beginning to fear his plan was to leave me in here all night. And then I heard
it. Footsteps. It sounded like more than one set and defeat started to set in.
I could maybe take on one attacker and do enough damage to get away, but two
attackers was unlikely.

I
heard the key in the latch and I sucked in a deep breath. I didn’t care how
many were outside that trunk, I’d kick and fight and scream until I couldn’t
anymore. The latch released and the trunk lid popped and I raised my feet to
kick it upward, hoping it might catch someone in the face, but it was lifted
before I could. The breath in my lungs that I was prepared to release with an
ear-piercing scream, deflated as I got my first look at who was waiting outside
the trunk for me.

I
gasped, and cried, “Emily!” I scrambled from the trunk, almost falling face
first into the dirt and rocks. Emily stood, feet bare and her too thin frame
covered by nothing more than two thin scraps of underwear. Her hands were bound
in front of her and in them she held the keys to the car. Her hair had been
sheered short and uneven. She looked frail and broken, but I was overjoyed to
see her alive. Tears streamed down her face and she looked anything but
relieved to see me.

I
made a move toward her and she let out a strangled yelp and stumbled backwards.
That’s when I noticed the cord wrapped around her neck. I followed it like a
leash to Will, who stood back several feet. There were so many things I wanted
to say, to ask, to scream at him. I wanted to return to my original plan of
attack. I wanted to demand he tell me why he was doing this. I wanted to beg
him to let us go. I did none of those things.

I
attempted to wipe every emotion off my face, hiding all the fear and anger and
hatred I felt in that moment. “What do you want?”

He
smiled. He actually smiled.

Then
he held out the hand that wasn’t gripping Emily’s leash, to me. “Let’s go
inside and talk about what I want.”

That
was the first moment I took to check out my surroundings. Since the trunk
opened and I saw Emily, I’d been single-focused, but I needed to be more aware
and alert if I was going to find a chance to escape. The moon cast just enough
light that I could see exactly how screwed we were. Nothing but dense woods and
the one road leading out, away from the small rundown cabin that stood in the
small opening amongst trees.

He
waited patiently while I made my observations, knowing I could do nothing but
comply while he had that damn cord around my best friend’s throat. I battled
every fight or flight instinct I had and took the steps toward him and placed
my trembling hand in his. A pleased smile stretched across his lips as he
squeezed it in his and then turned on his heel, pulling both me and Emily after
him. I looked over my shoulder at her being dragged along like a dog and balled
my other hand into a fist at my side. I fought the urge to ram it into his
face. I couldn’t do anything until there was a chance for both of us to get
away from him.

He
jerked us both inside and secured several deadbolts once we were in and I took
a few seconds to examine the interior. There wasn’t much to see. Dingy
furniture, wood floors, animal heads on the wall and a fireplace with a small
woodpile beside it. I doubted it did much for the chill that hung in the air.

Will
pulled Emily to him. She cowered and kept her eyes on the floor. I hated
watching it. He brushed his hand over her cheek. Her entire body shook and she
was unable to suppress her whimper. He was putting on a show for me, showing me
what he’d done to her, how he’d beaten her down. Then he took the keys from
her, tucking them in his pocket.

“Come,”
he said and led Emily through the sparse cabin. I didn’t know who he’d been
talking to, but I followed them to a door in the tiny kitchen off of the main
living area. He pulled it open and flicked a switch that illuminated a
staircase leading down into a basement. From the outside, I wouldn’t have
expected this place to have a basement.

We
descended, and as we did, an awful stench rose up to meet us. It was a
combination of mildew, body odor and human waste. Once we reached the bottom of
the stairs, Emily scampered over to a bare mattress in the corner. Will
followed and removed the cord from her neck, only to fasten a shackle around
her ankle that was anchored to the floor. Her eyes flitted to me, and then away
in shame. What had he done to her? This fragile, docile girl was not my best
friend. Her spirit and everything that made her her had been crushed and
stamped out.

I
spotted a bucket near the mattress and I suspected that was the source of much
of the stench. Bile rose up from my stomach and I had to swallow back my
disgust. I scanned the rest of the room, but apart from a second mattress and a
few shelves of canned goods and other food items, the basement was as bare as
everything upstairs. My eyes locked onto another door. I suspected it was a
second way out, but the door was padlocked, dashing any hopes I had of using it
as an escape. There were no windows.

When
my gaze traveled back to Will and Emily, I realized they were both watching me.
Emily with a look of utter devastation that threatened the semblance of calm I
was holding onto. Will was analyzing me, probably reading me like an open book.
A few slow, easy strides put him directly in front of me, and I had to root my
feet to the floor to keep from shrinking back. He reached a hand forward to cup
the side of my face. Once again, I was struggling to hide a reaction I knew
would not help me at the moment. I just held still. I needed to find out what
his plan was, what the end game was in all this, and work it to my advantage. If
it meant pretending that I wasn’t absolutely repulsed by him, then I would try
my damnedest.

He
swept his thumb across my bottom lip and then trailed it along my jaw and down
my throat. I swallowed against all the unpleasant feelings rising up in me.

“Follow
me,” he said softly and let his hand fall away. He made for the stairs, and I
hesitated a second, my eyes darting to Emily. I’d thought I would be making my
home on the second mattress. I didn’t want to leave her. Will must have seen it
in my reluctance to follow him as he’d commanded.

“Don’t
worry, Emily will be fine down here, as long as you continue to cooperate.” He
hadn’t voiced the threat, but it was still there. If I stopped cooperating,
Emily would suffer for it.

I
wouldn’t be the cause of anymore of her pain, so I left her there on her
pitiful mattress chained to the floor and tried to shut out her soft cries as
we climbed the stairs. At the top, Will flipped the switch, plunging the
basement into darkness. He then shut and locked the door with another key from
the ring in his pocket.

He
walked over to the counter and proceeded to uncork a bottle of wine. That he
was so comfortable turning his back to me, revealed how confident he was that I
wouldn’t try anything. He filled two wine glasses and took them to the small,
rickety looking table. In the center sat a vase with red roses. He sat and
indicated I should take the other seat at the table. I did so without
hesitation this time and he seemed pleased by that. He slid one of the glasses
across the table. I eyed it warily.

“Don’t
worry, it’s not drugged. You watched me uncork it, and I have no need to drug
you again.” He tipped his glass to his lips. I could tell he didn’t care very
much for the wine, though he tried to hide it. So this wasn’t for him. It was
for me, some kind of gesture I didn’t know what to make of yet. I raised my
glass and took the smallest sip.

“It’s
good,” I muttered, hoping it would please him, even though I hadn’t registered
the taste before it slid down my throat. As I hoped it would, that earned me
another smile.
Keep him happy, Nora,
I told myself.

“I
hoped you would like it,” he admitted softly. Good, he wanted to please me as
well.

“Thank
you, Will.”

His
features turned dark. The sudden change startled me. “Don’t call me that,” he
gritted out.

“Then
what should I call you?” I asked carefully.

“You
know my name,” he answered sharply, and I watched as he waited for me to
acknowledge it, growing more irritated the longer it took me. I was afraid if I
didn’t figure it out soon, he would not be happy with me. So far I was failing
at the one thing I needed to do.

“What’s
my name, little Rose?” he growled.

My
eyes widened and I gasped, because he was right. I did know. Didn’t matter that
he looked and sounded nothing like the boy I once knew, the way he said my
name. I knew.

“Aaron,”
I whispered, and a slow, satisfied grin replaced the harsh lines.

“That’s
right. Why do you look so surprised? I promised you I would come back for you.”

“You
died.”

“Did
I?” He was still smiling.

“In
a fire.” But obviously he didn’t die in the fire. How was that possible?

“Oh,
yes the fire. The one that killed poor Robert, Maggie, Andrew and Sarah. So
tragic.”

I
frowned. “But Andrew made it out.”

“Did
he? No, I don’t think he did. In fact, I know he didn’t. I made sure he was out
cold in my bed before I started that fire. A little bit of the ketamine they
used on their horses and everyone went right to sleep after dinner, except
Robert. I was worried about the drug being detected, and I didn’t give him a
high enough dose. He woke up and caught me messing with the electrical. I had
to bash his head in and drag him back to bed before I started the fire. I just
barely managed to escape. It was lucky I woke up in the middle of the night and
had to go to the bathroom, or I might not have smelled the smoke until it was
too late,” he grinned.

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