The Cellar (The Cellar #1)

She smiled. “Just in case.”


Rose and Poppy started another one of the daily bathroom cleans. I knew I should help by doing the kitchen or something, but I had no energy or motivation. I wanted to live to get out and see my family again, but with every passing day I cared a little less if I died.

Violet turned to me. “They said he comes down for dinner, right?” I nodded. “We’ll do it then. We’ll both grab something and hit him as hard as we can with it,” she whispered.

My eyes widened. Shit, she was planning to do it just like that? “What? No. We have to actually plan this. We can’t just hit him!”

She frowned deeply in anger. “This is a plan.”

It wasn’t. We couldn’t just hit him without a plan. So many things could go wrong, and it had been tried in the past. “Violet, that’s been done before without planning it through.” I shook my head. “We can’t, not now.”

“Well, we can’t do nothing. We have to. How can you say not now?”

“Have you ever seen someone being murdered right in front of you?”

She frowned. “What? No.”

“Well, I have. That’s how I can say not now.” I stood up and walked into the bedroom. Cleaning seemed like a good idea for once.

***

The cellar door opened right on time, and my blood turned cold. Bile rose to my throat as he walked down the stairs, smiling, holding a bunch of bright purple violets. “Good evening, Flowers,” he said. Those three words had the power to stop my heart. I stepped back behind the table and clung to the chair. Selfishly, I was grateful for Violet being here now; it meant he would take his place at the top of the table—the farthest from me.

Violet stared at him, her lip curled in hate and disgust. Please don’t, I begged her silently. If she did anything, it would get her killed, and I didn’t want that again. This Violet had to live.

Her eyes flicked to the empty vase sitting on the worktop. Too thin—it was far too thin and flimsy to do any damage. I doubted it would even hurt him at all. She caught my eye and nodded. I shook my head, eyes wide.

“Summer,” Violet said, using my old name. Shit. No! My breathing slowed and I shook my head. He hadn’t heard yet. He was too busy being greeted by Rose and Poppy. No, I mouthed. She didn’t listen. Clover was standing sideways on to her. Oh God, oh God.

My breath caught in my throat as Violet swept the vase up and slammed it down on his head in one quick, swift movement. Rose and Poppy gasped as the flimsy plastic broke into only a few pieces and fell to the floor. Clover stumbled forward, but just a few steps.

This was it. My eyes widened in horror as he very slowly straightened up and turned around. Violet’s mouth dropped open. His eyes were hard, cold, and fixed on her. I gulped and my hands shook.





20


SUMMER

Friday, January 21st (Present)

Clover slapped her cheek hard, and the sound echoed through the room. Violet cried out in pain and held the side of her face as she fell to the floor with a thud. I couldn’t watch this anymore. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing like I had with the other girl, and if he killed me too, then that was fine. Maybe he would be doing me a favor anyway.

I reached out to grab another vase. It wouldn’t kill him, but that didn’t even matter. This was about standing up for what was right. My fingertips had barely grazed the vase when Poppy grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me backward.

“No,” she hissed in my ear. I struggled in her arms, but she had a tight grip on me. I can’t do this. My legs gave way and I collapsed to the floor. It was too much. I was tired to putting on a smile and playing happy families.

Violet stood up straight, trying to seem confident and unafraid, but her hands shook with fear and her eyes were too wide. I admired her bravery, though. I’d never seen anyone look as terrified as her but she faced him anyway.

He took one small but purposeful step forward and something flashed through his eyes—something pure evil. Before I could blink, he launched himself at Violet and started punching and kicking her continuously. With each blow, she screamed a deep, throaty scream. Her arms darted in front of her face and she curled up in the fetal position to protect herself.

I watched, again. Whenever this happened, I couldn’t tear my eyes off the scene even though it was the last thing in the world I wanted to see. And it never got any easier. Rose and Poppy still flinched and backed up, but they were used to it now. They didn’t look like they were going to pass out or break down.