The Bad Boy's Dance (40 page)

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Authors: Vera Calloway

BOOK: The Bad Boy's Dance
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              The place was silent, a chilling stillness hanging over it like a veil. I pressed my bare feet-my shoes were nowhere to be seen- against the cold wooden floor and shakily stood to my feet.  I caught a glimpse of myself as I tiptoed across the room and stopped. My hair, which should have been a tangled mess, was falling in its natural waves. The blood and grime had been cleaned from my skin. The thought of Jared doing those things while I slept made hot bile flood the back of my throat.

              Clenching my teeth, I continued to move soundlessly across the wooden floor. The bedroom door opened into a small living area attached to a tiny kitchen. The TV was muted, and a fire blazed cheerily in the living room, at odds with the cold detachment of the apartment.

              The front door was in my line of sight. Maybe, just maybe, Jared wasn’t in the apartment. If I could manage to get over there and escape, I’d call for help from a phone booth or even stop at a store for help.

              Taking a deep breath, I slid my hands along the wall as I moved across the room slowly. I followed the curve of the wall so I was behind the couch in the living room that faced the TV and fireplace.

             
Deep breathes, Ivy. You can do this.

             
This part would be tricky. I’d have to cross the room and be out of the door quickly, with absolutely no cover. There was no sound from the kitchen, so I could only hope he wasn’t in there.

             
One…two…

              Three!

             
I surged forward and fumbled with the large lock on the front door. It opened with a loud click, making me cringe. Yes! Almost there, almost there…

              I wrenched the door open, and my hope withered like a flower in Siberia.

              There was a gate.

              In front of the elevators and the stairwell, Jared had installed a gate reaching from the ceiling to the floor, made of gleaming steel and more locks than I could count. There was no way I could get through that without keys and a torch.

              “I was really hoping you wouldn’t do that.”

              I stiffened from head to toe at the voice behind me. I spun around and met moss green eyes. Jared grabbed my elbow and hauled me inside, closing the front door with a slam and locking it behind him. My heart sank with each
click
and the panic I’d kept bottled till now was threatening to explode.

              I was alone in an apartment with Jared Kale. My ex-boyfriend, ex-lover, and current stalker.

              “Where the hell did you bring me, Jared?” I intended it to sound sure and unafraid, but my voice broke midway.

              He moved forward, running a hand through my hair as he’d often done when we were together. I’d loved it then. Now I was filled with revulsion. Stumbling away, my hip bumped into the kitchen counter, and I swallowed as I really absorbed my setting for the first time.

              When I did, it almost bought me to my knees.

              He had recreated his old apartment, the one I’d pretty much lived in with him. From my robe thrown over the loveseat to the magazines arranged haphazardly on the coffee table, it was like nothing had changed. Like I’d been transported to my sophomore year, and Jared’s apartment was my home.

              “Do you like it?” Jared asked softly, coming to stand in front of me again. I was too shocked to react when he placed his hands on my shoulders and stroked his thumb along my throat. “It’s just the way it was.”

              “You’re crazy,” I gasped. I’d never understood it before, thought surely I must have done something to drive him to be the way he was, but it had never hit home, what Dr. Paxton and the doctors and law enforcement officers had said. I’d never
truly
believed he was insane until that very moment, standing in a sick shrine to our nightmarish relationship.

              I was trapped in an apartment with a deranged psychopath.

              Jared’s brows furrowed, and he dropped his hands. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

              I wanted to open my mouth and tell him how much I meant it, but something stopped me. The only way I could get out of here and find Asher –he was okay,
he had to be
- was to get past him to the hellish gate outside. If there was a slim possibility I could escape, I would take it, and it wouldn’t be achieved by antagonizing Jared.

              And he’d never believe he was crazy. The truly disturbed ones never did.

              “How did you know where we were?” The question popped from my mouth before I could stop it, but it had been bothering me. How was it he’d snuck up on us at the cabin?

              Jared rounded the counter and busied himself with a kettle-the same one he’d used when we were together- to make tea. I nearly laughed at the weirdness of it all. Anyone looking in would think it was a sweet domestic moment.

              My palms were slick with sweat, and my heart hadn’t stopped thrumming since I’d sat up in a strange room. I waited for Jared to answer my question, trying not to let my anxiety show.

              When I was starting to think he was going to ignore me, he answered. “Remember when you left school and I was at your house before you were? I told you I had sources watching you for me. My father is a powerful man, love. It wasn’t too difficult to use his contacts and former clients to keep an eye out on you. It was pretty easy to track you when you sped off with Grayson, and it was a million times easier when I found out I wasn’t the only one following you. The men attacking the cabin-they led me right to you.”

              He explained all this in a calm manner, as if he was discussing the best seasoning on a Thanksgiving turkey. Not how he’d been stalking me and blackmailed his father’s clients to keep watch over my movements. My stomach roiled, and I had to steady myself on the counter. All this time…all this time, he could’ve reached me. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself so he could capture me.

              When I was sure I wouldn’t hurl everywhere-not that there was anything to hurl- I knotted my shaking hands. “But…why? Why would you do this Jared? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Tears welled in my eyes, and I quickly looked away before he could see them and exploit the weakness.

              There was a loud clatter as Jared dropped the kettle roughly on the counter. I dared a glance at him and saw his teeth were clenched, and he was livid. “Why?” he growled. “What kind of idiotic question is that? Did you think I would just let
us
go-what we have?”

              I swallowed. His mood swings were unpredictable and deadly, and even years later, I still had no idea how to stop it from the outset. I backed away as he moved toward me, caging me against the counter with his arms.

              “Is it for the Grayson boy? Do you really think he wants you, Ivy? You’re just his flavor of the month, the next stupid slut to spread her legs for him,” he spoke softly, and his tone would almost be considered sincere if it wasn’t for the mockery and menace underlying his words and brightening his eyes. He traced a single finger over my heart and then placed his hand over his own heart. “This is as far as you’re going to get, love. It’s just you and me. It always has been, and it always will be. I will
never
let you go. And I know you don’t want me to.”

              I shoved against him, trying to escape from the prison of his arms, but he was strong. His stint at the mental institution had only sharpened the lines of his prominent bone structure and lent him more strength than he should have.

              Jared closed his hands over my wrists and dragged me backwards. In a quick move, he spun me so my back was to him and wound his arms around my middle, trapping me against him and pinning my arms to my sides. We were facing the fireplace, and the heat from the flames was warming my freezing skin.

              He nuzzled my neck and I shuddered. I heard a small hiss of annoyance before he grabbed my chin, directing my gaze to his. We were so close, too close. His eyes dropped to my lips for a second before hardening as he met my glare. “You can glare at me with those angry eyes all you want baby. But we both know you want me,” he whispered seductively, a hand trailing along my tummy and curling around my hip. “You can try to reject me, but your body wants me, and I know you’ll give in.”

              Suddenly, he spun me around. He put his hands on my face, smoothing my eyebrows as I tried to struggle out of his hold. “Just
remember.
We were amazing. How can you give up on what could be, what we had?”

              At this point, my plan to stay calm and devise a plan to sneak by him when his defenses were lowered flew straight out the window.

              “What we had? What we had was a
sham
. It wasn’t a relationship, it wasn’t love. We were ugly- a violent, uncontrollable mess. It wouldn’t help your case if I remembered.”

              I was shaking, but this time it was with rage. How dare he blame me for how everything had fallen apart? I would have given him
anything.

              Jared’s mouth flattened, and I knew I needed to watch my step. I knew when to stop, but it was like I couldn’t control myself. Every therapy session, every nightmare, every physical and mental scar he’d left on me suddenly had a voice, and they wanted it to be heard, even knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

              “You stripped me of my pride, my self-worth, my dignity…you took away the core of who I was. You were so terrified I’d leave you, that I’d know there was something better than coming to your apartment to suffer your episodes, that you made me feel like I deserved to be treated like the scum at the bottom of your shoe. I
didn’t
. Even though you beat me bloody, I never even thought about turning you in to the police. You did that all on your own when you tried to take the final step. Do you really think we would have wound up together in the afterlife? I don’t know where I’m going after this, but I know where you are, Jared, and it’s not a happy place. What we had wasn’t love. It never was.”

              Just as I’d exhaled the last word, his hand flew toward me, backhanding me so hard I flew several feet back and landed on the floor. I was about to scramble to my feet when I felt a hard ridge against my thigh. What the…

             
The switchblade!

             
Asher hadn’t only given me the gun to confront Derevko’s men, he’d given me a switchblade. I’d pocketed it in my jeans, and Jared must have been too busy making me play Barbie to go through my pockets.

              Jared wrenched me to my feet, his fingers leaving nail marks in my flesh. When I felt my stinging cheek, my hand came away wet with blood. Jared stared at it for a minute before sitting on the couch and hanging his head with both hands braced against the sides.

              “I-I didn’t mean to…you just…
God!
” his remorse vanished, and he lifted his head to snarl at me. “Why do you always make me hurt me? If you’d just
listen,
I wouldn’t be so angry at you all the time and things like that wouldn’t happen!”

              This wasn’t anything new. Every time Jared had hit me, he’d deflected the blame onto me, like it was my fault for angering him. For a while, I’d honestly believed it was.

              Not anymore.

              Jared stood, turning his back to me as he strode towards the kitchen. My heart galloped in my chest as I slid my hand into my pocket through the nightgown and palmed the switchblade.

             
It’s now or never.

             
Without hesitating, I ran forward and tackled him from behind. It was obvious he was surprised, because I managed to drag him to the floor with ease. Quickly, I straddled him and balanced the tip of the blade over his heart.

              Jared looked up at me, incredulity etched on his face. Then he started to laugh. I had to tighten my legs around him to keep from bucking off at the force of his hysterics.

              “Do you really think you’d kill me, love?” his voice had transitioned to a smooth, lilting tone. If snakes could speak, it would be a serpent’s voice as he lulled his prey into a sense of false security.

              I pressed the tip against his heart harder.

              One of Jared’s arms reached out, but I swiped it with the blade. I heard his hiss of pain and the anger surging forth as blood dripped from his arm. “Don’t. Move,” I snapped.

              I didn’t like the calculating look in his eyes one bit, or the whispered words he spoke. “Even if you kill me, then what? You’ll still be trapped in here, with my corpse. How long do you think it’ll be, sweet Ivy, until the guilt and my dead body drive you to turn the blade on yourself?”

             
Ignore him. He’s manipulating you, playing with you. Don’t listen!

             
An idea struck me, and I aimed the blade at Jared’s throat as I dug a hand through his pants pocket. He raised an eyebrow with curiosity that was quickly replaced with horror when I extracted his cell phone. Fumbling to open it with one hand and keep the blade pointed at Jared with the other, I dialed Paul’s number.

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Sent by Margaret Peterson Haddix