AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes widened. Surprised by what I was capable of.
“I didn’t come here for you,” I said. “I came for your daughters.”
Don’s face darkened, the transformation still uncanny. An instinctive fear crawled through me, lifting the hairs on my arms. “What do you know?” he asked.
I took a step back. “You can’t touch me. If you do, the whole world—”
I didn’t even finish before he lunged. I tried to twist away, to push him, but he seized me, one hand wrapping painfully around my throat, the other pressed hard over my mouth. He jerked me close and whispered, “Don’t you dare tell me what to do.”
I tried to kick against the walls, bite his hand, but he wrestled me forward, squeezing my windpipe. My limbs relaxed, obeying the lack of oxygen. We came back to the familiar hall, and there—a person! A man walked toward us, someone who would help. Don jerked to a stop, but I launched into motion, trying to scream, wave my arms, convey terror. For a moment, the man stared at me, transfixed. Then he glanced up at Don, gave the slightest nod, and passed without stopping.
I heard Jamie’s voice, mixed with the sound of the man’s retreating footsteps:They’re everywhere.
Don dragged my limp weight to the end of the hall, wrenched open the door, and threw me headfirst down the stairs.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
A great weight crushed me, trying to stop my heart, push fingers up my nose, fill my mouth with bitterness. My whole body jerked as I came to, but it was like I was an infant, tightly swaddled—something bound my limbs to my side.
I blinked my eyes open but grit stung them, and all I could sense was suffocating darkness. Then I recognized the taste in my mouth.
Dirt. I was encased in it.
The realization was like an electric shock to my chest, and all conscious thought fled. I clawed, kicking upward, pushing against the ground that wanted to choke me. My lungs were burning, vision blurring, but I scratched and scratched. Just when I thought there was no hope, when I sucked in dirt and it coated the roof of my mouth, one arm wrenched free, and with that I dug at the earth covering my face.
Suddenly there was air, sweet and rich with rotting leaves. I gasped, sucking it in, and ripped myself out of the ground, shoving dirt off my legs until I tumbled into the grass, choking, coughing up black. I opened my mouth and screamed.
My cry dissolved into the sound of someone laughing. I turned, swiping dirt out of my eyes, and found Don sitting in a lawn chair, one leg crossed over the other, chuckling. His tuxedo jacket was tossed over the back of the chair, his shirtsleeves rolled up. He raised a glass of scotch to me. “I wasn’t sure how this would end.” His voice was silky and amused. “But good for you.”
When I opened my mouth, the voice that came out was a feral creature’s. “You buried me in the garden.”
His smile stayed fixed. “A little taste of what it’s like.” He gestured at the shallow grave where he’d buried me. Next to it, a vined plant’s arms stretched toward me like it was pleading. “You said you came for my daughters. Well—here they are.”
“Somebody help!” I screamed.
Don laughed and rose, towering over me as I crawled backward. “Dearest. No one can hear you. That’s what the band’s for.” He grinned up at the mansion. “And it’s Wagner. Perfect.”
“Jamie!” I screamed. “Help!” But it was futile, of course. Jamie was inside, on the phone with his producers or the FBI. He’d never find me in time.
Don jerked his hand and his scotch flew out, hitting me in the face, burning my eyes. “Enough.”
I tried to stagger to my feet, toward the Hilltop, glowing with lights, but Don was already on top of me. He kicked me lightning-fast, and I slammed back against the grass, unable to breathe against the radiating pain.
He crouched and peered down at me. There was no pity on his face, only curiosity. Over his shoulder, the first stars were visible in the dusky, orange-violet sky.
“Let me go,” I whispered, though speaking made my chest ache. In my head, I told the stars,If you feel a single ounce of compassion…
“Never,” Don said and cracked his scotch glass against my head.
***
I was aware of being dragged. Of being a thing that bumped and bounced across the grass. But then Don picked me up, wiping the warm, sticky blood from my temple. He carried me through the door like a newlywed carrying his wife over the threshold, and we were back in the warm, stifling basement. Don sat me in the same chair the Lieutenant had dumped me in only yesterday.
My head lolled back, but he seized my chin and righted it, dropping to a knee. When my vision sharpened, I saw he was staring intently at my face.
“You’ve always liked it so rough,” he murmured, stroking my face. “Strange creature. Eight years is a long time to wait for you. But there’s nothing better than delayed gratification, is there? You learned that from me.”
He kissed me gently on the forehead, then rose, walking to the wooden weapon chest. Almost absently, he pulled the drawers open, one by one. I knew what he was looking for before he found it—same as Laurel, of course, because so much of who we were was an echo of him. This man who’d reached into our brains when we were young.
