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The bedroom door opens, and I still.
“Max?” I say his name as the vision of him comes into view.
“Hello, Beth.” he says, his voice no longer the happy-go-lucky tone I remember him having.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking around the room again. I try to move, wriggling up the bed to cover myself, wondering why he is not tied up like I am.
“My place,” he states as his gaze stabs me with disgust.
“What are we doing…” I start to ask as I lift my hand, forgetting I can’t move it. I try again and my wrist burns, my eyes latching onto the knotted rope. Whipping my head back to him, I begin to panic.
“Max. MAX! Who did this? We need to get away!” I yell, my body ready to run, if only I could. I start pulling at my legs and arms, still not comprehending the situation. Until he laughs. A sinister laugh dripping with contempt falls from his lips, and I still.
“Max?” I ask, genuinely confused and a little scared. I know him from around the work events I do, a regular in the media pack I manage, but I don’t know him well outside of that.
“Oh, Beth, you are so stupid sometimes. Although you do look lovely in the new outfit I got for you. You look just like my mother the night she died. The night they all did. I have waited so long for this moment. I have been watching you for years, eager for my chance,” he says, and I scrunch up my eyes, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.
“What do you mean?” I stutter out, fear starting to crawl up my body, my heart racing and my head continuing to thump in pain.
“You never asked about me. Not once. Never asked if I was okay…” he says as he starts to pace the small bedroom at the foot of the bed. I try to pull my legs together, acutely aware of how vulnerable I am right now. The dress now up around my hips, my black lace underwear not really covering me much at all.
“Max, untie me,” I almost plead with him. His hair is everywhere, his eyes red rimmed, and I wonder if he is on some kind of drug.
“You didn’t care at all, did you, Beth? You didn’t even look into it,” he says, before he starts uttering to himself, pacing the floor, his fists curling at his sides before he digs them into his hair, grabbing the ends and pulling.
“Max, please, untie me?” I say again as I begin to sob, knowing that I am in big trouble. He ignores me and continues to mutter to himself, and I decide to keep him talking.
“Was it some event, Max? Did you not get the right shot?” I ask, wondering what the hell he wants with me.
He stops dead in his tracks and looks at me. His spine-chilling expression is enough to make my heart thump out of my chest before he starts to laugh. A big belly laugh. I watch as his blonde curly hair bobs up and down against his forehead as his head shakes. His mouth wide in a smile, but not a happy one. It is something much darker than that. He has no charm. My eyes flick to the TV, where I see Harrison finishing his interview before the news anchors come back onto the screen.
“You don’t remember, do you? You don’t know who I am?” he questions, getting my attention again as he slowly stalks toward me.
“You’re Max, the photog.” I try to lean farther away from him, wanting as much space between the two of us as possible. My eyes look over his shoulder for a moment, and I see the wall of photos again and one catches my eye. I squint to look closer and see it is a photo of me, in the beautiful evening gown from Harrison’s launch party months ago. My eyes skip quickly to the next one, which is of me again. This time in my work outfit at an event in D.C. about a year ago. My eyes graze over the next one and the next one. They are all of me.
“Do you know what it was like growing up in foster care?” he asks, as his knees hit the side of the bed. I swallow quickly as he stands there, waiting for my response.
“No. I don’t,” I say quickly, as I continue to curl my hands around, trying to loosen the rope that is restraining me.
“Do you have any idea how my life has been?” he yells at me, and my body jolts, and I move my hands faster, even though the rope burn is killing me.
“No, Max. Please, Max, don't hurt me…” I cry out, tears falling down my cheeks, but my body is feeling the slack of the rope on my wrists. I start to gain some confidence that I can get out of this situation.
“I knew I had to make my move soon, since our newCharmingGovernor was sniffing around you. What better way to end your life than to do it on the biggest night of his life. In a thunderstorm too!” he spits out at me, and I still. I look at him, wide-eyed, as my brain finally catches up with his words and understanding washes over my face.
“I’m the little boy you left in the wreckage. I’m the little boy without any parents. Your mother killed my family that dark, cold, rainy night, Beth, and now I want my revenge.”
43
HARRISON
“It’s over. He conceded. You are now Governor of Maryland,” Oscar says as he hangs up the phone with a broad smile.
One I don't match.
“Call the Police Chief,” I bark back to him, and I watch his smile fade a little as his eyes flick to Eddie. My brother already has his cell to his ear, the chief on the other end. After our meeting with him last week, we have protocols in place, security everywhere, yet no one is on Beth. Guilt wraps around my spine. I should have had security on her. I should have made sure she was okay.
“Didn’t you hear Oscar?” my mother scolds me. “You are going to be governor!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together, her jewelry around her wrist jingling. Her bright red lacquered nails reflect the lights from the ceiling as the large diamonds decorating her fingers glisten. I have never craved the plain pink short nails of Beth more. The long talons my mother has now are the kind that gives me nightmares.
