Authors: Nenia Campbell
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Contemporary Fiction
She pictured dragging herself out of the house.
She wouldn't have time to shower. His scent would
linger on her skin all day like an itch she couldn't
scratch out. She saw herself in a sterile classroom, in
an uncomfortable chair beneath the cheap fluorescent
lights that flickered so quickly that they made her
eyes twitch. She imagined pretending nothing was
wrong, while inside, all she wanted was to tear herself
to pieces.
She
remembered
what
he
had
said,
about
preferring to see her destroyed rather than free.
He left her with no choice of her own.
She pulled off her (his) shirt and unclasped her
(his) bra. She picked up an oversized t-shirt from the
floor. The cotton was as soft as a hug, and it made her
want to cry because she couldn't remember the last
time she'd had one.
She pulled off her (his) shirt and unclasped her
(his) bra. She picked up an oversized t-shirt from the
floor. The cotton was as soft as a hug, and it made her
want to cry because she couldn't remember the last
time she'd had one.
She kicked off her (his) jeans and, after an initial
hesitation, the underwear too. To her horror, there
were a few spots of blood where they had chafed
against her skin, and she threw them into the trash,
under
several
crumpled-up
assignments
so
she
wouldn't have to see them.
She needed the world to shut off for a few hours.
It was the next best thing to death.
Val fished around beside her bed and found a
half-empty
bottle
of
water.
It
could
have
been
anywhere from a few days old to a few months old.
She
didn't
care.
She
uncapped
the
bottle
and
swallowed
two
of
the
sleeping
pills
she
had
prescribed. Gavin hadn't let herself sleep.
I wonder what would happen if I swallowed the whole
bottle. One by one, just like counting sheep.
How beguiling that thought was. It scared her,
knowing that she could end it all with a single
swallow. Her self-control was slipping through her
fingers like water. Val shuddered and tossed the
bottle away. The cap fell off as it hit the floor. Pills
spilled across the brown carpet, like white maggots.
She felt the pills wriggling into her mind, making
her thoughts sluggish and heavy. Not tired, just slow.
Val lay back and waited for sleep to come. It seemed
like she had closed her eyes for less than a second but
when she checked the time at least four hours had
elapsed.
“Val? Is that you?”
“Jade?” she whispered.
“Oh, Jesus, thank God. We kept calling and
calling—where are you? Are you all right? Mary says
you never came home.”
He knows
. “I'm in the dorms. I was sleeping.”
There was a pause. “Sleeping?”
“Yes, Jade, sleeping.” She hated herself for taking
that tone, but couldn't control herself. She was a
fountain of ugliness, and all that poison festering
inside of her was spewing out.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“I think you know.”
“I don't.”
She did.
“That's three hours from now,” Val said aloud.
“Is that okay?”
She hung up on him and fumbled for her clothes.
She stuffed things into her backpack as she headed
for the bathroom. She showered for nearly two hours.
Whether Jade and Mary blamed her or not, she had
absolutely no intention of waiting around like a child
anticipating punishment.
She had to get out of her head.
Nobody answered when Jade and Mary knocked
on the door at six o' clock. “She said she was sleeping
earlier,” Jade said to Mary. It was cold in the hall, and
he shuffled from foot to foot. “Maybe she's asleep.”
“Maybe. She does sleep a lot. Val? Are you
there?” Mary rapped on the door with the back of her
hand and pressed her ear against the brown painted
surface. Nothing stirred. She sent Jade a look he
couldn't quite interpret and opened the door with her
room key. The inside was dark, silent.
Mary went in first to turn on the light while Jade
looked around curiously; Val had never invited him
up before, and was so secretive about her personal
life.
It was easy to guess which side was hers. The
yellow quilt with the flowers, at once both childish
and old-fashioned. The threadbare sheets. The paperstrewn desk. The one hint of softness was a small
plush cat half-hidden beneath the pillow. For some
reason, the sight of that stuffed toy made his heart
ache.
Jade sat down in Mary's desk chair since Val's was
covered with discarded clothing. He thought about
that box, made to look as if it were full of spilled
blood. He thought about that man—the one who Val
so feared. He wondered how sick you had to be, to
kill without conscience. To kill the girl you claimed to
desire. He couldn't even imagine.
Mary was studying Val's side of the room,
shaking her head. Her eyebrows were drawn down,
almost touching, a deep line engraved between them.
“She must have been here earlier,” she continued,
toeing a crumpled red shirt. “This wasn't here when I
left earlier. I don't think I've ever seen her wearing it
before.”
“Maybe she had to go out,” Jade hazarded. He
didn't
believe
this
at
all—the
timing
was
too
convenient—but
he
also
did
not
want
to
look
possessive in front of Mary.
“All
her
stuff
was
moved
around
in
the
bathroom.”
Mary
folded
her
arms.
“Her
bed's
rumpled.”
“Does she have class?”
Mary held up a sheet of paper. “She was working
on this a couple nights ago, saying it was due today.
Really freaking out—I remember 'cause she asked me
to proofread it for her.”
“So something must have happened, between
then and now.” Something crunched beneath his
sneaker. Jade looked down and saw white dust and a
pill bottle, one of those generic orange ones. He
picked it up, turning it over. “Ambien.”
“Don't look at me. I've never seen it.”
“It's prescription.”
“She'll notice the crushed pills,” Jade pointed out.
“Then maybe she'll think she did it herself.”
Her eyes landed on the wastebasket.
“Hmm.”
Jade heard papers rustling, glanced over, and
then shook his head. Going through her trash seemed
too invasive. He already felt bad about finding her
pills. He was about to say as much when he heard
Mary gasp. “What's wrong?” He started to come over,
but Mary waved him away.
“Paper cut.”
“You think we should wait?”
“I don't think she's gonna show.” Mary went into
the bathroom to wash her hands. “She knows my
schedule too well for this to be an accident.”
“She's being awfully cagey about the whole thing.
The girl is sketch. I mean, seriously. You don't act like
this unless you've got something to hide.”
Mary locked the door behind them.
“I hope she's okay.”
“I think you should be more concerned about
yourself. You're the one receiving threats.” Mary
hesitated. “If something is wrong, you'd think she'd
have warned us.”
Chapter Thirteen
Val ended up falling asleep in the 24-hour study
room. She awoke with a crick in her neck and a spine
that felt like a cold iron pole. She groaned as she
pushed back from the table, flexing her stiffened
shoulders. Everything ached except for her stomach,
which merely felt hollow.
The phone rang as she left the building. She slung
her backpack to one hip in order to root through it.
Her phone was at the very bottom, and her arms and
shoulders ached anew as she contorted them around
to reach it. “Hello?”
She stopped walking, and a student opposite her
on the sidewalk had to swerve to avoid collision. They
gave her an irritated look she did not notice.
“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I knew you
had a predilection for defiance, yes, but not to what
extent. Your behavior was…mm, enlightening, to say
the least. I must say, however, that I found your
stamina and endurance to be rather lacking.”
She clapped her hand over her mouth and
regretted it immediately as she could smell the bile on
her breath. “Fuck you.”
“Though
perhaps
your
enthusiasm
is
to
be
lauded.”
“Stop twisting my words around,” she told the
phone.
“Oh, I don't need to twist your words around.
Not when I have you to do all the twisting for me.
Under me, rather. I might almost believe that you'd
never had to beg before—but we both know that's not
quite true.” His voice, formerly light, now hardened.
“Don't we?”
She wanted to cover her ears, but his voice was
like a neurotoxin. It left her dizzied and immobile.
“Fuck off,” she amended weakly.
“Don't you dare hang up on me,” he snarled,
making her flinch, because her thumb had been
creeping slowly towards the “end” button without
her even being aware of it. “You are going to listen to
this, every word—and do you know why?”
She shook her head, then remembered he couldn't
see it. It didn't seem to matter.
“Because you love it when I make you struggle.
Where I lead, you follow. Isn't that right?”
“Yes it is. You want someone to make you feel
defenseless, vulnerable, hunted. I could kill you, and
you can feel that when you lie with me. You love that
power, my power—the power that I have over you.”
There was a heated pause. “Your body belongs to me
more than you, now. I can smell you on my clothes.
Fear and desire, and pure, sweet submissiveness.”
Val looked around wildly, sure that someone
would see right through the call. With a cry she hung
up on his laughter, realizing only too late that she had
just called his threat.
She took the bus back to the dorms, too focused to
worry about her rumpled clothing or to register the
faces around her. Her mind's eye kept blinking back
to that cold, cruel gaze, and the dark, gravelly voice. If
leopards could speak, they would sound like him.
Val thought she would go to the dorm, brush her
teeth, and then head down to the DC to catch the last
hour of breakfast. Most of the food would be stale and
overcooked. Crispy black bacon—if there was any
bacon left—rubbery eggs, soggy hash browns. But
even that was better than what she deserved.
She pushed the door open. The first thing she saw
was Mary's face. It filled her anxiety at first sight and
it took her a moment to realize why. She had seen that
look
on
the
people
back
home,
yes—caution,
contemptuous pity, and cold, cold condemnation.
No. She was projecting again, seeing her worst
fears reflected back at her from the fun house mirror
her world had become. Mary cared about her. Mary
didn't think about her that way.
But she did now. One look into her eyes and Val
knew. One look into her eyes, and the mirror
shattered to pierce her heart with the frozen blades of
panic. “What's going on?”
“Where were you?”
Taken aback, Val said only, “Huh?”
“You said you would be here. At six. Jade and I
both came here. We waited for you—but you never
showed.”
“Like you forgot about this?” Mary held up a
cream-covered envelope Val only just stopped herself
from reaching for. A valerian petal was still clinging to
the folds. The words, Are you frightened? leered out
at her in Lisa's girlish hand.
“I found it in your desk.”
“You went through my things?”
The pills—the diary entries—the necklace—
“Jade got a box full of fake blood. There was a
There was no escape. The walls were closing in
around her, each escape route blocked off the moment
she had it in sight.
“Do you know what it said?”
Val looked at Mary again. “What?”
“The message. The one in Jade's box. Do you
know what it said? It said, Stay the fuck away from
Valerian Kimble.” Mary stumbled a little over the
word 'fuck,' but it didn't slow her down in any way.
“We looked up the name,” she said. “We know.