Ever, Sarah (32 page)

I just looked at him like he was mad.

“What are you talking about?”

“You were being stalked by a psycho. You may not remember, but Lena confirmed my suspicions. I just don’t understand why you didn’t come to me, and now I’ll never really know.” The desolate tone of his voice was so sad I wanted to scream.

The sound of the phone ringing nearly caused me to jump out of my seat. I wasn’t expecting it; I was so engrossed in our conversation, or my revelation. My eyes followed Brad as he walked over to the table to pick up his cell.

“Hunter.” His voice was tight.

I watched as his face changed rapidly, covering a myriad of emotions, from attentive to angry in a few short moments.

“Thank you detective…I will…she is doing much better, thank you for asking. I most definitely will let you know if I hear anything…no, there is no need for that…I don’t think…I’m sure Sarah would be happy to cooperate. We will. Thank you.”

He pushed a button killing the call.

“What?”

When he just stood there looking like he was contemplating murder, I got nervous.

“I will not be a victim again. Either you tell me what is going on or I ‘m leaving this house.” And I meant it.

Brad turned his attention to me. His eyes bright, his mouth set in a tight grimace.

“The detectives would like to ask you some questions.”

“That is not what has you looking like that.” I was scared and my voice quivered.

“Paul Anderson, or as you know him, Kevin O’Shea, fled his home and as of this hour, is still at large. There was a basement. Did he ever mention a basement to you?”

I thought about it and remembered the door with the strange lock. The door, like both the front and rear doors that had a deadbolt that could only be opened by a key. I told Brad about the doors.

“They found the bodies of three women in the basement. The police are investigating.”

“Bodies?”

“Yes. Three women.”

“Who?” I knew their names, well at least their first names. “Mary, Tanya and Julia.” I mumbled, but the expression on his face told me I was right.

“How did…”

“Boxes. There were boxes in the other bedrooms with those names on them. Oh my God, those poor women, and to think I was…how did they die?”

“I don’t know. The detective didn’t say. I assume because it’s still an open investigation.”

I think he did know how they died, but he was worried I’d stress out. Instead, I just got angrier. I wanted to hurt him, Kevin/Paul. I had every opportunity to kill him and I left him alive. Had I known about those poor women, I
would
have…hurt him. Badly.

“He preyed on women?”

“Worse, he preyed on women in distress.” He turned his back again before I could hear the string of expletives run out of his mouth. “He knew exactly what buttons to push.”

“He’s out there?” I was just a bit nervous not to mention aggravated that he was free while I was locked inside my head, my memories frozen in a time I’ll never get back.

“I want you to pack a few things, I’m taking you to your mothers’ house.”

“No, you are not.”

“Sarah, don’t fight me on this. Please.”

“Bradley.”

“Sarah.”

“Only if you come and stay with me.”

“If that is what it takes, I will come with you.”

“And STAY.” I reiterated.

“Get your things.”

“Our things.”

“Yes. Pack my sweats, underwear, socks and a few tees.”

I stood up and walked up the steps to make up an overnight bag for the both of us. When I got into the bedroom, I was of one mind. To get us both out of here, and to stay out of here, until the police catch that bastard!

I packed our toothbrushes, our deodorants. His sweat pants, a couple of tee shirts, underwear and socks. I threw in my lounge pants and a few tees, some underwear, socks and both of our sneakers. I went into Brad’s closet to get his suitcase. I reached up and pulled it down.

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

I was hiding in Brad’s closet. The man in the bedroom was beating on the door incessantly. He didn’t know that there was a door from the closet into the hall. I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I escaped into the hallway.

I sneaked along the wall to the back staircase and tip toed quietly down. I ran to the garage to get into my car. When I got there I realized I’d left my keys upstairs. IN THE BEDROOM!

I thought about running to the roadway, but I was hurt. He’d pushed me into the wall and my head was bleeding. I remembered that I was feeling dizzy. I was sure he would catch me before I made it down the driveway.

Flash
.

I snuck up the back stairs, quiet as a mouse and spotted my purse on Brad’s nightstand. The man was still in my closet banging on the bathroom door. Shouting obscenities.

“I will kill you.”

“You will be mine.”

“I will make you suffer.”

All threats.

All frightening.

I snuck back into the bedroom.

I walked slowly, holding my breath until I had my purse. I took out my cell phone and snuck back into Brad’s closet.

“I saw you Sarah. You fucking cunt.”

I trembled violently, but reached the door that led to the hall. I heard him behind me. He knew I’d gotten out and was right behind me.

I ran down the hall. I threw my purse over the banister. It landed on the floor of the great room.

I’d hoped he would think I’d left. I ran into the bedroom and looked around.

No, not under the bed-he’d find me.

Not the closet-he’d open the door.

I spotted the rocking chair in the corner, the afghan my grandmother gave draped over the back. I sat behind it. Holding the rocker still. I reached up and pulled the afghan down so he wouldn’t see my feet and held my breath.

I could hear his footsteps out in the hall. I inhaled one more time and held it again. I saw his shadow as he walked quickly past the door, and I was sure he fell for my ruse.

I sat, quivering, waiting to hear him open the front door and run out to chase me. But instead I heard laughing, a horrific, loud maniacal laughing, the sound ringing through the halls and bouncing off the walls of the great room.

I tensed. I heard him walking back towards the bedroom where I was still behind the rocking chair. I swiped at the rivulets of blood running into my eyes. It stung and blurred my vision; I wiped it quickly on my shirt. Breathing. I heard breathing. Heavy breathing. It wasn’t me. Someone else was breathing, and he was very close. I looked up slowly and saw him looming over me. The frightened look on my face just seemed to spur him on and he began laughing again. I put my hands over my ears and pressed them tightly.

Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed me by my upper arm, his fingers digging into my flesh and he yanked me out from behind the chair and with his hand clasped tightly over my arm tightly; he shook me like a rag doll, all the while laughing. I remembered getting angry because he was hurting me and laughing. I reached out and clawed at his face.

Shocked, he pushed me away, releasing me and I took the opportunity to run out of the room. I headed towards the stairs. I almost made it. I almost made it, but he grabbed my hair and pulled me back, my arms flailing. He held me at the top of the stairway and laughed as he released me, pushing me forward and I tumbled and bumped and slammed down the steps, losing consciousness as my head smacked into the hard wood.

I faded.

I faded hearing his laughter.

Flash
.

His face was still fuzzy, but the sound of his voice familiar.

Very familiar.

“Brad!” I shouted.

I heard loud footsteps coming up the stairs and I instinctively ran into the closet. Feeling kind of stupid at my reaction, I stood up and was about to walk out of the closet.

Then I heard him.

“Sarah?” I knew that voice. I was sure of it.

I didn’t answer.

“Sarah? Where are you?”

“Sssssssaaaarrraaahhhh.” I felt my body go numb when I heard the loud hiss

That wasn’t Brad’s voice.

Chapter Twenty-Three

A spurt of hot wetness ran down my legs and I cowered behind Brad’s suits not moving.

I saw shadows in the bedroom. He stood at the entrance of the closet. I could see his feet under the door.

“I know your tricks now. I know how you move through this labyrinth. I know everything.” He shouted into the air.

He wanted me scared.

He wanted me helpless.

He wanted me dead.

I refused to give him what he wanted.

I waited until he walked past where I stood. Then I heard him open the door into Brad’s closet from the hallway. His footsteps echoed in the hallway. He walked across the hall and into my closet. His shoes sounded different, his shoes made a different sound walking on the tile floor. I listened as he walked back into my closet and then he stopped.

I was petrified. I was sure he could see me standing behind Brad’s clothing, but he walked through the bathroom and I listened as he opened the door from my closet into the hallway.

“I know your tricks!” He shouted.

He figured out how I had got away from him the first time.

He laughed.

That sound, from deep in his chest, rang out.

I cringed.

I pulled my jacket closer to my body as if it were a shield and felt something inside. I reached in and pulled my hand out. In it was a nail file. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was something.

Now
that
I remembered doing.

I slowly straightened up. My legs were shaking to the point where I didn’t know if I could stand without falling. I backed up, leaning against the wall for support, willing my legs to regain their strength. I wrapped my fingers around the nail file as though it were a talisman, praying the whole time I wouldn’t need it.

I knew the monster I was about to face killed three women and damn near killed me, and I’ll be damned if I will be his victim again.

I held the small blade out like a knife, knowing I would have to get close in order to use it, but if I had to, I would.

Brad. Where was Brad?

Brad would be here if he were okay.

He must have hurt Brad.

He could be dea…STOP!

I refused to think that.

He is alive.

He has to be.

I felt the anger inside me slowly build and I stepped out of the closet into the bedroom and cautiously looked around. I could feel the terror attack my body from the inside as my brain scrambled to think clearly, but my resolve grew. He was still shouting from the hallway. I was sure he was simultaneously watching each exit. From that point, he would have a good view of both closet doors as well as the bedroom door.

There was no other exit.

I had to think.

I had to use what little wit I had left.

I
had
to find Brad.

I moved slowly over towards the door, picking up a bottle of cologne from my dresser and held it in my free hand. I walked slowly up to the bedroom door.

I could hear him pacing, his footsteps walking back and forth between the two doors nearly paralyzed me with fear. I couldn’t think straight. I shook my head violently and took a deep breath.

This is it Sarah. You need to help Brad. No matter what!

I turned the lock on the doorknob, praying it wouldn’t click signaling my exit. It did make a small sound, but I was relieved that he chose to shout just then. The sound of his voice covered the click of metal on metal as the lock was released. I looked down the hallway. There was an opening about three feet where he would be able to see me if he were looking. I prayed he would be guarding the doors on either side of the back hallway as I slid through his field of vision.

I slunk along the wall, my back pressed forcefully against the hard surface, stopping where the one hallway opened to the adjacent hall leading down to the front steps. I took a deep breath and listened. He was ranting, I could hear him pacing back and forth, like a tiger waiting for its prey to fall out of the tree; ever patient, ever diligent.

After a few seconds of listening, I began to recognize when he would turn and walk back towards the end, then turn and walk towards where I stood. I waited for just the right moment and with my body tense and my eyes closed, I slid across the floor.

After I got to the other side, I slowly, quietly let my breath out, all the while listening to make sure he was still pacing. I closed my eyes with relief when I heard him at the end of the hallway.