“You’ve got to listen to me. Zoe has lost her damned mind.”
Blood is staining her clothes, and she’s got scratches on her face, red angry welts that will stay with her for days.
“What happened?” I ask her quickly.
She limps toward me and I see that even her ankle has a welt. She stumbles into me, and I steady her arm.
“Zoe happened,” she snaps angrily. “I’ve known that girl for a long time, but I’ve never seen her like this. I don’t know what you did, but she’s out for blood.”
“I didn’t do anything but tell her that I can’t see her anymore,” I say tiredly, flinching as the headlights from cars passing by shine into my eyes. “She was a mistake. She’s had her claws in me for weeks, and this might sound crazy, but I think she might’ve killed my brother.”
Chelsie looks at me, and pity hides in the depths of her eyes.
“It doesn’t sound crazy,” she tells me. “She attacked me tonight. I went to her house and found a bunch of stuff on her table. Stuff she didn’t want me to see. A ton of articles about your wife, and you, and a bunch of her notes. Zoe has planned everything down to the tiniest detail. She wanted you, and she worked hard to get you. She’s not going to give up now.”
I’m still and quiet. “Why?”
“Revenge of some sort. She had lots of photos of your wife, with her face scratched out, and one with her belly cut out.”
Her belly.
“Did she give my wife abortion pills?”
“I think she did. She knows your wife somehow. And I don’t know what else she’s going to do. She said she’s just getting started. I swear to you, I didn’t know about any of this.”
Chelsie is ominous and covered in blood, and my wife is at Reflections alone, unsuspecting and helpless.
“Fuck.”
I try to call Dr. Phillips, but there’s no answer. So I try again. Still no answer.
I call the reception desk and ask to be connected to him. After a minute, the receptionist comes back.
“I’m sorry, sir, he’s not answering right now. He must be with a patient. Would you like to leave a message?”
“Motherfuck.”
I hang up and turn to Chelsie. “You need to call the police and tell them what she’s done and then go to the hospital.”
She nods and I get into my car and head for my wife.
49
Jude
I tuck my wife’s feet into the car, ensuring that she is buckled up before I close the door after her.
“You’re a good man, Mr. Cabot,” Corinne tells me tiredly.
I flash back to everything that’s happened with Zoe, and I flinch.
Not so good.
But I’ll be better now.
I drive toward home, and Corinne leans her head on my shoulder.
“I am going to hate Reflections,” she confides. “I don’t even know what to pack.”
“Well, take your time. We don’t have to be there until this afternoon.”
She nods.
“Yeah.”
“When you come home, I’m going to hire someone to come in to help. I’m serious. I don’t want you up. If you need to go to the bathroom, tell me. I’ll carry you.”
She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “Let’s not get crazy, Jude. The bathroom is my personal space. You’re not allowed. But I’ll go straight back to bed.”
I’m satisfied with that, and she’s quiet, her hand on my leg for the rest of the ride home. When I turn the car off, she’s snoring lightly, and I smile.
I walk around to her side, unfasten her seat belt and slide her into my arms. She stirs only as I’m lifting her from the car.
“I’m too heavy,” she protests, and I carry her up the steps.
“You’re not,” I answer, pushing the door open.
Carrying her in, we’re greeted with music.
“What the...”
“Put me down,” Corinne says, and her voice is stilted and sharp. I glance at her, and her face is drained of all color, and she walks straight to the stereo, turning it off.
“Who would do this?” she asks, turning to me. Her breathing is short and heavy, her hands are shaking. She looks like she’s seen a ghost, and I’m suddenly very afraid for her.
“Corinne, are you okay?” I ask her, keeping my voice low. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“That song...” She closes her eyes. “That song was playing the night my father killed those people. That night on All Hallows Lane. Someone played it in the pool the other day at the hospital, too. Someone was in here, Jude.”
I look around. Artie looks up from her place by the sofa. “There’s no sign of a break-in, Co.”
I’m concerned because my wife’s panicked. And she seems irrational. Suddenly, the stay at Reflections doesn’t seem like such a stretch.
“Someone was here,” she insists. “Please, Jude. Please, believe me.”
I take a shaky breath because it’s devastating to watch someone as strong as Corinne turned into an anxious mess. It’s almost unfathomable.
“Let’s just stay calm,” I tell her. “You go pack a bag, and I’ll look around.”
She studies me, checking to see if I really believe she’s serious. I make a point of seeming sincere.
“Okay.” She nods and heads down the hall.
I look at Artie, and my gut clenches as I remember what Corinne did to her. I still can’t believe it.
I give it a few minutes before I join Corinne in the bedroom, where she’s placing items into a bag.
“What can I do to help?” I ask her.
“You can grab my toothbrush and stuff,” she answers, folding a nightshirt.
“Okay.”
I am distracted as I enter the bathroom, but when I look up, my feet freeze to the floor.
Twenty or thirty text messages between Zoe and me are taped to the mirror. All of our sordid words. Dirty words directed to each other.
All of it.
Taped to the glass in front of me, and panic wells in my chest and spreads into my head. I can barely think as I stride toward the mirror. The only thing I can think is I’ve got to get rid of this before Corinne sees it.
But her voice comes from behind me, icy and sharp, and it’s too late.
“What the fuck, Jude?”
50
Corinne
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
No.
Utter shock comes over me in waves, and I can’t think.
This can’t be.
This can’t be happening.
It’s not real.
But I stare at the text messages taped to my mirror, and through my numb haze, I see that it’s real.
I want to suck you.
Your cum tastes delicious.
Please let me touch you.
Do you like my hard cock?
I’m going to tie you up and cum in your mouth.
My husband is having an affair.
I sink to the floor, and I want to melt into the tile. My ears roar and I can’t hear and I can’t feel. The room spins and spins and spins, and I’m stunned, shocked, appalled, devastated, shredded, annihilated and more. A thousand feelings swirl around me, sucking me down, and I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
Jude.
My husband. I never in a thousand years would have thought he would do this.
We’re Corinne and Jude. Jude and Corinne. I’ve always been enough for him. Until...apparently, I wasn’t.
My heart.
It’s constricting...crushing me. I thought I was in pain earlier. That was just the tip of the enormous, ugly iceberg. It’s nothing compared to how I feel now.
Absolutely nothing.
“Corinne.” His voice comes from nowhere, yet everywhere, like I’m in a cloud. “Corinne, open your eyes.”
I do. I open them and stare into his, and I want to punch him in the face.
“Who is she?” I manage to ask. “Who?”
He hesitates, which infuriates me further, and I find myself screeching.
“Who is it? Ginny?”
He shakes his head immediately. “God, no. I didn’t... We didn’t... I haven’t had sex with anyone, Corinne.”
He sinks to his knees next to me, and I flinch away from his touch.
“She’s tasted your cum,” I point out, reading the words. “You’re talking with her in an intimate way—a way that should only be used with me. Get the fuck out, Jude. Leave me the fuck alone.”
“Corinne, please,” Jude pleads. “It isn’t what you think. I felt all alone, and Zoe tried very hard to be something to me. It got out of hand, but I don’t love her, I love you. I ended things with her before they went even further. I swear.”