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“Shiloh. Don’t come. Don’t give this fucker—”
He had been cut off when Mr. X had returned to the line and told me where to find him.
If I knew Mr. X like I thought I did, he would kill Logan as soon as I got there. I was walking into a trap that might be pointless. However, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.
I finished my note by thanking them for finding me, saving me, and loving me. I explained how much I loved them and to please forgive me. That I wasn’t just doing this to try to save Logan, but to free us from a life filled with danger, running, and fear.
I put the note on the coffee table for Creed to see when he woke up. Then I grabbed my keys to my 4Runner and my burner phone from the kitchen counter and snuck out.
* * *
I drove for twenty-six hours. I stopped once at a cheap hotel for six hours to sleep so I wouldn’t be exhausted when I returned to my childhood home in Maryland. Driving through the town I’d grown up in felt nostalgic yet strange. Who I used to be when I’d lived here was not who I was now.
As I pulled into my old neighborhood, my hands began to shake. I drove by my house once without stopping and parked down another street. Grabbing my burner phone, I dialed Ian’s number. He had called me multiple times since I’d left Colorado.
The line rang and rang until it went to voicemail. I said, “For someone who has been blowing up my phone, you chose a crappy time to not answer. I’m doing something reckless, despite you telling me not to. I’m in Maryland. Mr. X found a way to get ahold of me and told me I had to come or he’d kill Logan. When you get this, feel free to send the police to my house here.”
I hung up and got out of my car. I unzipped my sweatshirt and tossed it in the car before making my way to the trunk. The chill in the air made my exposed arms break out in goosebumps. Before arriving in my hometown, I’d made sure to stop by a few stores. My pink hair was in a tight bun to make sure it was harder to grab. I was wearing black cargo pants with boots to be able to move around quicker and easier. I had on a loose black T-shirt to hide the belly band holster that held a pistol behind my back. After opening the trunk, I grabbed a seven-inch survival knife with a fixed blade and tucked it into one of my boots. I grabbed my shoulder holster that held another pistol and put it on. Lastly, I put a spare magazine in one of the pockets in my pants.
As I went to close the trunk, something shiny peeking out from under the mat in the trunk caught my eye. I lifted the corner of the mat and found a quarter-sized disk with a well-known apple-shaped logo on it. There was an AirTag in my trunk. Questions rattled my brain. Who’d put it in my car? How long had it been there? Had Logan done it? It obviously hadn’t been put in my car by the sheriff or Mr. X or they would have showed up at the cabin a lot sooner. It must have been Logan. Was my car a backup in case anything happened to my ankle tracker, which I currently had hidden in my boot?
I supposed it didn’t matter right now. I tossed the AirTag back in the trunk and shut it. Because I was parked a street over from my childhood home, I cut through the property that was directly behind mine. If the owners happened to see me and called the police, then so be it.
There were a lot of trees and bushes that framed the large lot my house sat on. I tried to stick close to them in hope of staying unseen as I made my way to the house. I didn’t want Mr. X to see me coming; he was already more than prepared for me.
Before I’d left the hospital after Mr. X had killed my family, Logan had hired people to clean, fix up, and lock down the house. Nails had been removed from the doors and windows downstairs. The missing doorknobs had been replaced. The blood had been cleaned away. Because we hadn’t had time to go through my and my family’s belongings, everything had been kept where it had been, and all the furniture had been covered with white cloth to help preserve it until I could go through it.
The elderly couple who lived next door and had helped save me had agreed to keep an eye on the house and been given keys to do so. If anything were to happen, Logan had given them an email to reach him by. In the past year and a half, we hadn’t heard from them. So I assumed everything was good with the house. I really hoped they hadn’t noticed Mr. X hanging around.
I first tried to get in through the back door using my house keys kept in my go bag. The door unlocked but wouldn’t open. It was nailed shut.
Bastard!
I knew the game he was playing. He wanted to control the way I came in and possibly my escape. And he was probably trying to recreate the night he’d killed my family.
I didn’t bother trying to go through any of the windows or the garage. I walked around the house to the front door. Before opening the door, I took my pistol from my shoulder holster, aimed it out in front of me, and reached for the door handle. Steeling myself with a deep breath and slow exhale, I opened the door. Slowly, I pushed it inward and stepped into the place that had haunted my dreams since the night I’d barely escaped alive.
19
Stepping inside,I could hear my younger self say, “I’m home.”
The first thing I noticed when I came in was the smell. It smelled like rotting meat, and I had the overwhelming urge to gag. Apart from the stench, nothing was unusual. It was quiet. The lights were off, but it was the middle of the day and light was coming in through the windows.
I left the door open behind me as I moved farther inside. Why not? If Mr. X wanted it closed, I was sure he’d close it. Because I couldn’t resist, I took a few steps to the left to look in the living room. As expected, the furniture was covered with white cloth.
Unexpectedly, I found the reason for the terrible smell. It took a lot of effort not to scream. I quickly looked away from the horrific sight and took a second to restrengthen my ability to bury what I was feeling.
I made myself look back into the living room and took in the scene Mr. X had recreated for me. Laid out in the same spots my parents had been killed in were Gabe and Amber. Gabe was laid in the same position on the couch and butchered in the same exact manner as my dad had been. Amber was on the floor. There wasn’t blood surrounding her, but it was obvious that she had been stabbed to death as my mom had been. They were both wearing the costumes they had been wearing on Halloween. Their faces were permanently etched with fear.
Even though they had done awful things to me, they didn’t deserve what Mr. X had done to them.
I glanced up the stairs. If Gabe and Amber were where my parents had been killed, who had Mr. X placed where Shayla had been killed? Gun still held out in front of me, I began making my way up.
Before I reached the top, the hall came into view and there stood Mr. X with Logan kneeling in front of him. Mr. X was holding a knife to Logan’s throat. As I came to stand on the landing at the edge of the hall, Shayla’s death replayed in my mind.
Logan looked half dead already. He was severely beaten and bloody. His face was cut, purple, and swollen. There were large cuts on his arms, and he looked like he had been stabbed in his stomach. He appeared so weak that the only thing holding him upright was the grip Mr. X had on his hair.
Mr. X was in all black like me, wearing another Desert Stone hoodie. What I noticed now that I hadn’t at the gym was that he had put on some muscle. It appeared I hadn’t been the only one working on making myself stronger. There was also a small scar on his cheek where I had stabbed him with the pen.
