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An ominous smile stretched across his mouth, causing that scar to wrinkle. “Welcome home, Shiloh.”
“Shi,” Logan groaned.
Mr. X fisted his hair and pulled his head back, exposing Logan’s throat. “Did you like what I left you downstairs?” Mr. X asked me.
I didn’t answer. All I did was hold my gun aimed at his head and stare my monster, my demon, my boogeyman right in the eye. I was not who I had been. I was stronger. I was smarter. I would not give him my fear any longer. If he were to try and take from me again, he would only have my rage.
I didn’t know what I showed on my face, but his evil smile shrank a little. “At first, I thought I’d put that horrible girl here where I killed your sister. Then, when your uncle fell into my lap, I decided that it would be more fitting to cut the truly last tether holding you back from me.”
I lowered my gun with a sigh. “How boring.” It may have been my voice, but it was Shayla’s tone and words I was conjuring.
Mr. X’s smile dropped completely.
“I don’t think you truly love me,” I said.
The surprise that showed on his face told me what I was doing was working. What I had learned when Mr. X had stabbed me and again when he’d almost raped me in the middle of the night was that when I played into his fantasy, I gained the power.
“Why couldn’t you have done something new?” I asked with a somber look. I took a few steps forward and pointed the barrel of my gun to my temple. “If you really wanted to recreate the death of my sister, then maybe I should be the one to die here. After all, I look just like her.”
Mr. X’s knife fell away from Logan’s neck and he let go of his hair. Logan fell forward on his hands with a grunt.
Mr. X took a step toward me. “I do love you.”
I smiled. “I know you do.” I moved the barrel of my gun away from my head and aimed it at Mr. X’s. There was no doubt or hesitation when I pulled the trigger.
Mr. X ducked, but my bullet grazed his cheek and ear. I didn’t know if he felt the pain because right away, he threw his knife at me. I too had to duck, and in that time, he charged for me while pulling another chef’s knife out from the pouch pocket of his hoodie. He came at me too quickly to bring my gun up to aim at his head. In a split second, I came to the decision to drop my gun and brace. He lifted his hand, clutching the knife as if to strike as he came at me. I caught his wrist as he was bringing it down with one hand, fisted his hoodie with my other, and pulled him down to the ground. As I brought us down, I brought one foot up and shoved it into his stomach. When my back slammed down onto the carpet, I thrust my leg—the strongest part of my body—up into Mr. X and propelled his body over my head, which was where I knew the stairs would be. Mr. X flipped and tumbled down the stairs. I prayed to whatever deity would listen that his neck would break.
Halfway down the stairs he dropped his knife and caught hold of the banister. At the speed he was going down, combined with his weight, the newel he’d grabbed snapped and he continued tumbling down to the foyer.
I scooped up my gun and got to my feet. Running to Logan, I shoved my gun in my shoulder holster. I quickly grabbed his arm and put it around the back of my neck. “I need you to help me,” I said to him as I pulled him up to stand.
He helped me a little to get him to his feet. “You need to get out of here.”
“Not without you. Now walk,” I ordered as I led us farther down the hall, away from the stairs.
He walked, and better than I’d thought he would, which would make what I was going to make him do next easier. In the ceiling in front of my parents’ bedroom door was the pull-down ladder that led to the attic.
“Can you reach that?” I asked Logan as I pointed to the small metal ring that dangled a few inches from the ceiling.
Logan reached up and hooked his fingers in the ring. When he yanked down, the ring pulled a rope out of the ceiling until it went taut, and the attic door opened.
I took over for Logan and opened the attic door enough to pull down the ladder. “Climb, Logan, and hurry.”
While Logan struggled but did his best to climb up the ladder, I took my knife out of my boot and cut the ring and rope from the door, all while staring toward the stairs.
As soon as Logan was far enough up, he pulled himself into the attic by rolling his body inside. “Hurry, Shi,” he said between pants.
I returned my knife to my boot and started to push up the folding ladder. “I’m not coming up.”
“What?” he said and tried to roll over to look down at me.
“Stay there until I come for you. If you try to come out, I will shoot you in your legs and lock you in a closet.”
“Damn it, Shi!”
I ignored his arguments as I finished closing the attic door. Without the rope to pull it down, he should be safe up there. Turning to face the other end of the hall, where the stairs were, I pulled out my gun from my shoulder holster and headed in that direction.
When I reached the stairs, I glanced down at the foyer. Mr. X was nowhere to be seen and it looked like he’d shut the front door. Which meant he was hiding somewhere downstairs. I racked my brain on what to do as I went down a few steps. This house was so big and boxy. The moment I started to look for him, he could come upstairs and try to look for Logan.
