Held & Pushed (2 book bundle) (43 page)

“I didn’t
memorize it.”

“You
certainly did. Otherwise how would you have been able to quote it to me?”

I
shrugged, though he wasn’t looking at me. “I don’t know. Maybe because it was
the last paragraph I read. Or maybe because it stuck out to me.”

“What made
it stick out to you?”

“I’ll tell
you why it stuck out to me. It was the way it was worded.” I paused, thinking
of all the other pages in that book. “You’re a mystery to me, Ron. The things
you say, both orally and on paper are so well said, so poetic, even in their
gruesomeness. I’m amazed and confused as to how you can be so eloquent with
your words and at the same time be a psycho.”

“Is that
so?”

“It is.
Just like, I don’t understand how the upstairs floors of your house are so
spotless, so immaculate, yet there’s so much gore in the basement. Bloodstains
on the floors and walls, pieces of human skin here and
there,
and of course the jars of feet on the shelf. I mean, how can that be? It’s like
you’re two people in one body. One second, you’re nice and articulate, and the
next, you’re screaming like a psychopath and cursing like a sailor. How is that
possible?”

He didn’t
answer.

“I’m
completely serious here. Have you ever seen a shrink? Because I think you would
make a great case study. Well, you would’ve made a great case study. The chance
for that happening is over now. You’ll never see the outside of this basement.
Not alive, anyway. How does that make you feel?
To know that
you’re going to die in the same room where you killed so many women?”

Still no answer.

“Does it
make you
sad
?
Angry?
Frustrated?
Happy?
Honestly, Ron, with you, I never
know how you’re going to feel. It’s what nearly drove me mad, you know? Always
trying to guess what you wanted me to do or say, and how you would react. It’s
maddening and exhausting.”

I shook my
head and looked at the floor in front of my feet, remembering what it was like
to always be on edge, to never know which of the words I said were going to be
the ones that set him off and sent him flying into a rage.

It shocked
me when he said, “I always feel torn.”

Looking up
at him, I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Unsatisfied with that
answer, I prodded him for more.

“What do
you mean?”

“Ever
since I was little, I’ve always felt as though I were experiencing two emotions
simultaneously. Something would make me happy, but at the same time I would be
mad.”

“Why was
that?”

“Because I knew that whatever had made me happy wouldn’t last.
That it wouldn’t be long until the happiness
went away and I would be sad again. That made me mad. It worked the opposite
way as well. If something made me angry, I was also happy because I knew that
eventually something would come along and make me happy again.”

“So you
were never satisfied?”

“Exactly.
I was
never satisfied.” He rolled his head to the side and looked me directly in the
eyes. “Not until I met you.”

And here
we went with more of his bull shit.

“It wasn’t
until I met you that I knew what real happiness was. With you, I never felt two
emotions at the same time.
Only one.
Happiness.”

For a
second there, I thought I had made real progress with Ron. I thought I had
learned a little bit about him, about what drove him to do the things he did.
But every word he said to me was just another lie in an attempt to manipulate
me.

“That’s
funny. Because I’m pretty sure you weren’t happy with me when you chained me to
a pipe in your basement, naked, and left me for days. Or when you forced rotten
dog food down my throat. Or when you chained me to the concrete floor of the
basement and sprayed me with water, turned a fan on me, and left me for dead.
That’s not what most happy people do.”

“You had
made me angry.”

“So, not happy then?”

“Overall,
I was happy with you.”

“Well
that’s not what you said. You said you never felt two emotions with me.
Only one.
And that one emotion was happiness.”

“I know
what I said,” he shouted.

I smiled
and watched as he immediately tried to regain the composure he’d so quickly
lost.

“Look, the
point I was trying to make was that with you, the voices in my head quieted
down. They let me see things more clearly.”

“So now
there were voices in your head?”

“There
were always voices in my head, Nicole.
Until you came along.”

“Right.
So two
emotions at the same time, voices in your head…what else? Did your neighbor’s
dog talk to you too?”

“Fuck you,
Nicole.”

“Hey, I’m
just trying to have a conversation with you.”

“You’re
pissing me off.”

“I thought
I made you happy.”

“I wish
I’d never met you.”

“That
makes two of us.”

“You know
what I should’ve done? I should’ve taken you straight down to the basement,
chained you up, and showed you what happens to insolent little bitches.”

“But you
didn’t know at the time that I was insolent.”

His mouth
snapped shut, the muscles along his jaw line flexing under the pressure.

“Why did
you even come down here, Nicole?”

“I came
down here to see if I could understand you. I thought that by reading that
book, I’d learn something about you, some details that would explain why you
are the way you are. But all it’s done is raise more questions. I feel that I
know less about you now than I did when I started.”

“You want
to know about me? You want to know why I am the way I am?”

I didn’t
think he would tell me. At least not tell me the truth. So in the hope of
making him talk, I once again used his words and his lies against him.

“If we’re
ever going to have a chance of living a life together, don’t you think we need
to know everything about each other? You already know about me. I was honest in
everything I told you, but I know almost nothing about you. Don’t you think you
owe me the truth?”

He thought
for a second, and then began.

“Everything
you know about me is a lie.
Even my name.
I know I
told you that I grew up poor in a large family that moved around a lot.
Another lie.
It was all lies.”

“Why’d you
lie?”

“It’s
easier for people to believe that story than the real one. If people think you
grew up under such circumstances, they pity you. They feel sorry for you and
are less apt to hate you, especially if you’re doing something bad. They always
blame it on your upbringing, giving you an easy out, almost an excuse for doing
it.

“But the
truth of the matter is I was one of only two children. My family was wealthy
and I never even so much as saw a bad neighborhood. I attended private schools
and had a driver that chauffeured me back and forth. I wanted for nothing.”

He paused,
reflecting back on his youth.

I wanted
to know more.

“Go on.”

He sighed.
“When I was seventeen years old, I raped my sister. Actually, I had been raping
her since I was fourteen, but it wasn’t until I was seventeen that she finally
told on me.”

“How old
was she?” Not that it mattered. Rape was rape.

“When I
was seventeen, she was twelve. I didn’t see a problem with it.”

Of course
he didn’t. He was sick and twisted.

“I was
adopted, so we weren’t really related. The way I saw it, it was just sex. Not
incest.”

“It wasn’t
just sex, Ron. It was rape. Did she say no?”

“Oh yes.
She put up one hell of a fight, which did nothing except turn me on more. I
liked her spunk, much the same as yours. She had a lot of fight in her, which I
found exciting. But when she told on me, I was furious. I never thought she’d
tell, and when she did, it broke my heart.”

He paused
again, so I coached him to continue.

“But she
did.”

“Yes, she
did. My parents were angry. It was late at night when she barged into their
room, crying. They came to my room and told me that the first thing in the
morning, they were alerting the authorities and having me removed from their
home. They told me that charges would be pressed and I’d undoubtedly go to
jail.”

He looked
at me with wide eyes, expecting me to feel sorry for him.

“I
couldn’t have that, Nicole. At only seventeen years old, I was just starting my
life. I couldn’t go to jail. I wouldn’t. So I waited for them to fall asleep,
and then I sneaked into their rooms and killed them. I set the house on fire
and waited by the front door as long as I could. When the fireman arrived, I
ran out, covered in soot and smoke, coughing profusely. It wasn’t hard to fool
people into believing that I had survived a devastating house fire. I’ve always
been charismatic and charming. Plus there were fireman as witnesses who saw me
run from the burning building.”

I shifted
my weight from one leg to another and waited for him to finish his story.

“Their
estate was mine after their untimely deaths, deaths which, by the way, were
ruled an accident. I went about my life, trying to recapture the feelings I’d
had of having sex with my sister. I longed for that
fight,
that
struggle. That rush I got from having power and control over a
woman. That’s why I bring women to my basement.”

“Is that
right?”

“Yes,
Nicole. That’s the truth.”

“I don’t
believe a word of it.”

“Why not?”

“Because
that’s the same story you gave for a character in another one of your books.”

“How did
you know that?”

“I’ve been
reading more than just the one file on your computer.”

He
chuckled.

“You’re
smarter than I give you credit for, Nicole.”

“I
certainly am. It’s a shame for you that I’m not stupid. That’s the only way I’d
ever believe anything you had to say.”

“Well you
can believe this because I mean every word. If you let me go and we start a
life together, I’ll tell you every single thing about me, starting at the
beginning. I’ll leave nothing out and won’t fabricate one detail. I’ll even
tell you my real name.”

Now I
laughed. He was a fool to think I’d fall for that nonsense.

“Think
about it, Nicole. I know you’re upset about your husband and son, but I can be
a better husband to you than he ever was. I can give you as many sons as you’d
like. We can have our own children, be our own family.”

The rage
I’d experienced before was nothing compared to what I felt now. It was hearing
him talk about my husband and son that started it. How dare he think he could
be a better husband than Wade? And how dare he think that Mason was
replaceable? But when he mentioned giving
me
a son, my
thoughts turned to Austin and I lost it.

“You son
of a bitch,” I shouted. “It’s because of
you
that I’m not with my husband and son. It’s because of
you
that I had to get rid of Austin.” My fists were clenched into
tight balls at my sides and my cheeks burned with anger.

Ron’s
eyebrows drew together in confusion and he asked, “
Who’s
Austin?”

“Who’s
Austin?” I screamed. “Who’s Austin?” I stepped over to the steel table and
looked down at Ron. Calmly, I said, “I’ll tell you Austin is. Austin is the son
you gave me.”

His eyes
widened and his jaw fell open.

I nodded.
“That’s right. I had your baby.”

A medley
of emotions crossed Ron’s face.
Shock, anger, curiosity.
He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could utter a word, the
doorbell rang.

23

N
icole told Ron that if he tried to scream for
help, she’d kill him. It was an unnecessary warning though. He was struck
speechless by her revelation.

She raced
up the steps to deal with whoever was at the front door, leaving him alone with
his thoughts.

He had a
lot of questions to ask her when she returned. How? Why? When?

He found
it disturbing to know that something like that had happened without him being
aware of it. He’d always considered himself to be quite observant, and yet this
had escaped his attention entirely.

Unsure of whether
he should be angry with Nicole or himself or both, he chose to turn his anger
on her. After all, it was her fault. She’s the one who got pregnant. She’s the
one who had his baby without telling him. And it was because of her that he had
never seen his son.