She moistened dry lips. “If you’re in charge now, you can let me go. I can be gone before Madness knows.”
“I want to, but I can’t. Madness will never give me peace until he has you. He’s sworn he’ll go back to sleep if I give you to him.”
Panic thrummed in her head. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t.”
He dragged long fingers through his hair. “I’m tired of being held hostage. Madness is tired of being denied. If you die today then all the chaos will end.”
“How will you control Madness after I’m gone?”
“I have a foolproof way.”
“What?”
He leaned forward and whispered, “I’m going to kill us all.”
A killer who wanted to die was much harder to negotiate with. She had everything to lose and he had nothing to lose. “Why did you and Madness kill Sara and my parents?”
“Ours was an old story. Romeo and Juliet. Young lovers who wanted to be together but denied by controlling parents. For a long time, she didn’t listen to her father and then, one day, she broke up with me . . . just like that. She tossed me aside. Said she needed to get on with her life.”
“That’s why you killed her?”
“The urge to kill her was strong. But I was afraid. I was young and didn’t know much. And I didn’t have the courage to pull the trigger. Madness came up with an idea.”
“Ronnie.”
“Poor, dumb Ronnie. Was more than happy to help.”
“You’re Billy?”
“Yes. His only friend. He couldn’t set the fire correctly and he couldn’t kill you. He was supposed to shoot you in your bed but he couldn’t. And so he took you.”
“It was you I heard in his apartment when I was locked in the closet. It was you who gave him the overdose.”
“It was Madness.” He moved toward the bed and sat on the edge. The mattress sagged under his weight as he laid a gentle hand on her leg, absently stroking the soft fabric of her jeans.
“I remember you opened the closet door.”
“But Ronnie hid you well. Madness didn’t see you. Madness is bold, but scattered. He feared the cops would show any moment. It was a matter of time before they tracked down the hiding place. We left, never realizing you were there.”
“Did your sister know?”
“She never asked. But she suspected. After the Thompsons died, she forced us into the hospital. She got Madness under control.”
Downstairs, she heard the slam of one car door and then another. Her heart jumped but she kept her gaze on him, hoping he didn’t hear it.
He smiled. “Looks like Rick might have figured it out. I knew he would. He’s clever.” From his pocket he pulled the box of matches and quickly lit one. He stared at her over the flame and then dropped it to the fuel-soaked carpet.
Jenna screamed. “Rick, I’m up here! Rick! He’s burning the house.”
Flames licked on the floor around the bed teasing the edges of the four-poster frame and then slinking up the wood toward the mattress.
Jenna twisted the cuffs as Billy moved to a corner and pressed his back to a wall. He lit another match and dropped it to him feet. Fire immediately exploded around him.
White smoke rose from the flames, quickly darkening to an inky gray. The smoke would kill her before the flames. Rick might find her, but he’d never get her free of the bed in time.
Gun drawn, Rick raced up the stairs to the sound of screams and Bishop’s footsteps behind him. Halfway up the stairs ink-black smoke rolled down to greet them. This killer’s fires moved fast and Rick knew he had seconds to find Jenna.
He entered the back bedroom. The room was ablaze. Through the smoke and flames he saw Jenna handcuffed to the bed. She was screaming.
In the corner stood William, flames licking up his body as he raised a gun to his head. “You’re too late to save her. Now you get to see the flames eat at her before they drive you from the room.”
William pulled the trigger and the bullet cut through his skull, killing him instantly.
Rick coughed, pushed through the smoke and the heat of the flames. He saw that Jenna’s hands were handcuffed to the bed. Shit. He reached for the handcuff key on his belt and tried them in the lock. The lock was jammed.
She looked up at him and then to the flames slithering up the comforter. “Get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Get him out of here!” she yelled to his partner.
“Fuck that.” Bishop grabbed a chair and hammered it against the post at the end of the bed. The post, weakened by fire, snapped. He wrestled free the wood, loosening it from the cuffs.
Now the hands.
In the black smoke taking a deep breath was impossible and only seconds remained before the fire took them all.
Rick got up on the bed and positioned himself by Jenna. As flames seared up the bed, he kicked his booted feet hard into the bedpost, missing her hand by inches. The wood bowed but didn’t give. He kicked hard, shoving all his anger and frustration behind the kick. The wood cracked. Another kick. And another. The bedpost broke.
Jenna coughed, rolling to her side as Rick kicked the second post. A dead-on strike splintered it. Rick and Bishop picked her up, one at the head and the other at the feet, and raced out of the room as the flames jumped onto the bed. Dark, billowing smoke rose up the walls, traveling to the ceiling, creating a dark hollow as it sucked the last of the oxygen out of the room.
Outside, the wail of sirens pierced her shock as she sucked in fresh air. She was aware of Rick removing the restraints from her ankles. His touch was gentle. Steady.
When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. In his eyes she saw a mixture of relief, love, and longing.
“Jenna,” he said, his voice hoarse from the smoke.
“I’m okay.” She managed a smile, tried to sit up, but when her head spun, she collapsed back against the cool grass.
“The medics will be here soon.”
“Okay.”