I only had one more obstacle in my way.
The key slipped effortlessly into the lock, but I took a second before trying it out. It’d dawned on me that I’d come all this way, made it this far, and this could be the giant red stop sign that turned me away. If they’d changed the locks after I left, I would have no way to get inside, which meant I’d have no way of getting that book. I couldn’t even remember what the title was—Mom and I had always just called it “our book”—so it wasn’t like I’d be able to buy it at a store in the morning. I came here for one thing, and if this door didn’t open, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.
I silently dropped my forehead to the metal, said a prayer to myself, and turned the key. To my surprise, it worked. The cold, brass knob sent a chill up my arm—a warning I passed off as residual dread caused by the memories that hid within these walls. But I pushed past it and pulled on the handle, rejoicing in the absence of squeaky hinges. The memory of when I’d coated and waxed them to silence my late-night departures and arrivals put a smile on my face and washed away the unease. But that high didn’t last long.
I closed the door behind me, careful of my movements in the dark room, and began to slowly shuffle my feet toward the hallway. The kitchen light appeared to be on, the glow radiating down the hall and shining through the crack in the door, and it guided me across the bathroom. It may have been almost a year since I’d been here, and there was a good chance Mom had redecorated it with new mats and possibly a fancier shower curtain, but I could navigate the space with my eyes closed. After sneaking back in so many nights, the house pitch black, I could almost tell you the exact distance between the toilet and sink, down to the inches. And even though that would still be the case, it didn’t mean I wasn’t cautious.
My breathing stopped at the sound of a male voice. No one was here, I was all alone—I knew this because Mom was lying in a hospital bed across town, and when the Uber driver picked me up, the pale-yellow Mercedes with the light-brown convertible top was still parked in the same spot. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down so I could hear over the sound of my frantically beating heart. And once I had regained control of my breathing, I was able to hone in on the words coming from down the hall.
“So what do we do?” His throaty voice called to me, as if I’d recognize it anywhere. But I had too many thoughts and fears and questions bombarding me that I couldn’t place it. It was so familiar, even though I had no idea who it was. I wondered if it was someone I’d gone to school with, and he’d taken the opportunity to break into the house and rob the place.
“I don’t know…why don’t ya tell me? You’re the one who came here first.” The more I listened, the more I convinced myself the TV had been left on. The words didn’t make sense, and aside from the first voice, this one wasn’t familiar at all.
“Rhett…” A third man spoke in warning, deep and unforgiving, and it once again made me believe this was nothing more than a movie playing in the living room. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, sir, but could you possibly save the lecture for later? We have a man tied up on his own kitchen floor. I’m pretty sure that takes precedence over your irritation at his stupidity.”
I held my breath and covered my mouth with my fingers, trying to tell myself it was the TV, yet I no longer believed it. A man was tied up in the kitchen, and there were at least three others in the house. I needed to flee, run away, get out of here as fast as I could…but I was frozen. Once again, my fight or flight instinct had failed me and left me in a solid state of unmoving panic.
That was…until more was said.
“Fine, I can wait to tear ’im a new asshole. But tell me this, Nicholson…what was your plan?” Nicholson…Nicholson… I gasped as tears filled my eyes, blurring the already dark room. “Kill him in his own house? Leave him hogtied for dead? Any thoughts as to how you’d explain to the cops why your fingerprints were all over the place, or why someone could match the description of your car and report seein’ it here? I have a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well with your girl.”
It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t possibly be real.
This had to be an oddly coincidental movie.
“I wasn’t thinking about—”
“Of course you weren’t, Cash.” This wasn’t a movie. There was no coincidence. Any doubt or prayer I’d had vanished at the sound of his name. Such intense anger had filled the man’s voice that it had given me a mental image of a red face, possibly a bulging vein in his forehead. “That’s the problem…you weren’t thinkin’. Which is exactly why taking matters into your own hands is dangerous—especially when you’re a trained killer.”
“What’d you want me to do?” Cash screamed, and it was so loud it made me take a step back. “He said he’s going to come after Jade and take Aria.” His voice cracked, which was the only thing that kept me quiet.
Fear pinned me, rooted me to the floor, covered my body like a weighted net. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think past Cash’s words—he planned to take my baby away. He could come after me all he wanted—I’d survived it before and would do it again—but I’d be damned if I’d let that monster anywhere near my child. He sought the control, fed off it like it was his last meal. He didn’t care about me or Aria…only the control.
Whimpering moans were followed by an interrupted grunt when the third man spoke again. “What are we going to do with him, boss? We can’t leave him here. The first thing he’ll do is call the cops. And I’m willing to bet someone notices if he goes missing.”
I couldn’t tell who was the boss, whether it was Cash or the other guy. And I assumed one of the other two men’s names was Rhett. But I couldn’t figure out if that meant there were four guys or just three, and the fear of who they were kept me from moving.
“Nah, he won’t say anything.” The gruff voice of what I assumed was the second guy gave me chills. They ran up my arms and down my back at the way he spoke, almost tauntingly with a threatening undertone. “Because I happen to own a fancy tool, somewhat like a pair of meat tongs, that comes in handy when removin’ a tongue. And if that’s not incentive enough for ya, how ’bout this…” I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but his voice lowered when he said, “I could kill you without a single person findin’ out, and leave without a trace like a breeze through the night.”
I took a step back, then another, my hand still covering my face and my eyesight glued to the light flooding in through the crack in the door. A sob had lodged itself in my chest, expanding and taking over, making my heart fight harder for space. My sternum ached like it would shatter at any minute.