Cut Me Free (30 page)

“Stupid girl.” Brothers shakes his head and pivots to face me as I step to one side, angling to keep him turned away from Sanda and Lily. “You didn't follow the rules. You ruined the game.”

“It's hard to follow the rules when you don't tell me all of them.” My voice comes out small behind my gritted teeth.

“You're not the best listener.” Brothers's jaw tightens and he grimaces. “Besides, the boy was a distraction. Now that he's gone, I have plans to keep you busy.”

I need to buy them a few more minutes. As much as I hate everything I know about Brothers and the Parents, I have to tap into that even more—push this even further—if I'm going to get us out of here. Swallowing a fresh wave of disgust, I lower my arms to my sides. I try to appear nervous and small, like I am no threat to him.

“I'm starting to feel like I might be outmatched here. Please don't hurt me.”

Brothers freezes, his eyes squinting, trying to read my plan.

“Wh-what do you want from me?” I stutter, and let my voice quaver. The corner of his mouth turns up, but he doesn't speak.

“I've already seen what you can do,” I continue. I thrust aside all the fear, revulsion, loathing, and try to think like him, to understand him, and then feed into his hunger—make him let his guard down. The lies come easily and the fear in my voice makes them sound true even to me. “Sanda's scars are w-worse than mine. You're stronger than the one who gave me mine.”

A glint of pleasure that is almost nostalgic comes over his face and he lowers his hammer. “You're asking me not to hurt you?”

I cower and take a half step back. When I glance up at him, he's practically drooling.

“Please?” I ask, watching him from behind lowered eyelids, flinching when he shifts his weight, knowing he needs the fear, to feel the sick power.

He relaxes his stance, but he keeps himself between me and the weapons on the table. I have to let him think he's still pulling the strings until I can get in the right position to wrap my hands around his throat.

The blades glint before me. I see fresh blood on one and know he used it to cut Sanda. My hands clench into fists so tight my nails slice into my palms, so I stuff them in my pockets and take another shuffling step backward. I'm strong enough to do this, I have to be. If I keep repeating that then maybe I won't fall apart. Maybe my disgust and horror won't shatter me to pieces. Brothers is much bigger than I am. Hand to hand, he'll win, but I'm quick. If he loosens his grip on the blade, he's dead.

And this time, I'll be sure it's for real.

“I know your name isn't Brothers. We both have to hide who we really are,” I whisper, finding common ground. He nods and his fingers begin to relax on the knife. “It's hard to be alone. No one understands.”

“But you do?” He takes one step toward me.

I inch back in the hopes that he'll step with me away from the weapons. “You're dangerous.”

“I can be.” His eyes shine back at me in the darkness.

The chair Sanda is sitting on shifts and makes a noise. Brothers whips his head around. Grabbing for his knife, my fingers only manage to knock it out of his hand. I pounce, but his guard is up again and he responds faster than I expect.

“You're trying to fool me?” he roars, and steps back.

“No!” I scramble to one side, trying to get close enough to reach his throat. “I'm trying to kill you!”

He swings and I duck, kicking low, going for the groin. My leg isn't as long as his arms and I connect with his thigh instead. He grunts, but it wasn't the impact I'd been looking for. I step close, stomping on his foot and reaching up for his throat exactly like Cam taught me.

But he reacts too fast. The side of his hammer slams down on the top of my head and I fall to the floor like discarded trash. I can't hear, can't see, can't think. Every sense is eclipsed as an explosion of pain drenches me in a vibrating wave of nothingness.

 

31

I force my eyes open, knowing I can't black out, not now. In the dim light, I see hazy images of Brothers chasing Lily around a table across the room. Sanda has fallen from the chair, but her arms and legs are still bound and I hear her crying as she tries to roll away from the sound of their struggle. Lily is fast, but it's clear this fight will be over quickly.

Adrenaline helps me turn over, and I manage to silence my groan when the ground tilts oddly to one side. My eyes settle on the only thing that might save us now—the gun from Angelo's, still sitting on the ground where I placed it. It's halfway across the room, but it's something. I crawl toward it, keeping my eyes on Brothers's back. Lily scurries one way and then another, keeping the table between herself and Brothers. She decides to make a run for it and dashes toward the table with the knives. She almost gets one in her hand when Brothers slams his arm into her back and sends her crashing across the floor and into the nearest wall. He grabs a long, lethal-looking knife from the table and spins toward Sanda.

I freeze, knowing I can't keep moving without Brothers seeing me, but I can't reach the gun yet either. It doesn't matter. When Brothers takes his first step in Sanda's direction, his eyes land squarely on me. The eagerness I'd seen before is gone; all that remains now is wild fury and a lust for blood.

With a dark chuckle, he stumbles toward me, but Lily staggers to her feet with tears and blood streaming down her cheeks. She grabs a knife with one trembling hand. I can see his thoughts stamped across his face. I'd attacked him with my bare hands while she ran. She is clearly weaker, less of a threat. When he dismisses her and turns on me, I hear her voice shatter the silence.

“No! Stop. I-I won't let you hurt her,” Lily says, as she steps closer but doesn't strike. Even from here, I can see she is terrified. Keeping me in sight, he shifts his feet until he can see us both. I watch him sizing her up: the shaking knife, trembling shoulders, blood- and dirt-streaked face—not exactly intimidating.

“You
won't let
me?” He laughs, shakes his head, and turns away from her. “Don't worry, little mouse. You'll be next. First, I have to handle the snake.”

My eyes take in every detail in the room. Realizing I can't get to the gun in time, I scoot to the right, hoping to get under the nearest table for a little protection. He's almost made it to me when he slows. His eyes widen as he sputters and turns. I see Lily right behind him and her knife sticking out of the lower left side of his back.

“I s-said to stop.” She's no longer crying, and she stands over him as he falls to his knees. I can see it in her eyes, the emotions fighting. Horror, fear, and triumph—I've felt them. I wish I could've saved her from this.

She'll never be the same again.

As Brothers leans forward, the gun tucked in his waistband comes loose and falls to the floor in front of me. I see the muscles on his back flex and realize what he's doing.

“Lily, run!” I shout. My voice echoes as time screeches to a halt. I grab the gun, point, and pull the trigger back so far I'm afraid I've done it wrong before it finally shoots, and I'm not prepared for the blast of sound or the way it jerks my forearm up. My ears ring so I know it went off, but he's still moving, still going for her, so I raise my other hand to brace it and stare down at the center of Brothers's back. My heartbeat is concussive against my eardrums. It is like someone replaced my heart with a block of dry ice, and with each beat, frigid smoke rolls through my veins. I squeeze the trigger twice more, this time prepared for the recoil, before he finally begins to fall. The air settles and a burnt metallic scent fills my nose. I'm struck by the mechanical distance of it, nothing like a knife going through flesh—I don't even have any blood on me. When he hits the ground, I see I was too late. Once again, too late to save someone.

The knife is already buried to the hilt in Lily's stomach. Her back hunches as she falls to the floor, and I'm by her side in an instant. I grab her hand in one of mine and use the other to reach into her pocket and grab her phone.

“It's okay, Lily. I'm calling for help.” I can barely make out my own words through my still-ringing ears as I dial 911 with shaking fingers.

Lily reaches out and takes the phone before I can speak. “I was kidnapped and stabbed. I'm bleeding … s-so much. Please come help.”

I listen, helpless, as she gives them the address. She's right. There is so much blood; hers and Brothers's mingle on the floor between them. The image feels so wrong.

Trying to reassure myself, I do the only thing that seems right at the moment. I check for a pulse on Brothers's still form—nothing. I can see all three bullet holes, but the first one only grazed his shoulder. The last two got the job done. I think about moving him. He doesn't deserve to be near Lily, even in death.

Sanda whimpers, and the room only spins a little as I rush to her side. I can hear Lily talking to the 911 operator as I undo the ropes on Sanda's hands and untie the blindfold. The moment I remove her gag, she throws both arms around me and sobs against my shirt. I'm careful not to touch any of her new cuts as I bring her over by Lily.

“He found us, Charlotte. We're never safe. We've never been safe,” Sanda chokes out between sobs. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” I tell her. I want to make everyone stop hurting, but I can't. No one has that kind of power. “He can't come for you ever again. He's dead.”

“It's not enough,” Sanda mutters, and cries harder. I rub her cold arms and hold her tight, knowing there is nothing else I can do to make her feel better, not here.

Lily closes the phone even though I can still hear the operator talking.

“Please help me, Charlotte.” Her voice is frantic but weakening. “It won't stop bleeding. Should we pull out the knife?” She closes her eyes and lays her head back against the cement.

“No.” I grab a scarf from her bag and place it around the knife and against the wound. She flinches, her skin pale. “Don't touch it. It will bleed worse if you take it out now.”

“Charlotte?” Lily's voice is softer, and we lean forward to hear her. “I was wrong about you. I'm so sorry.”

“No, Lily. You don't have to be sorry, ever.” My eyes are wet as I stroke her hair.

“You'll regret saying that someday.” Her voice holds a feeble hint of humor that gives me hope.

I grin. “I'll hold you to that.”

I lift Sanda onto my lap. She lays her head against my chest and her crying eases a little.

The ambulance siren blares in the distance, and Lily blinks her eyes slowly. “Take care of Cam. Make sure he's okay.”

“I will, and so will you.” I reach down to squeeze her hand. “You keep breathing. That's all I want.”

She nods slowly, and then her eyes fly to Sanda and back to me. Her gasps grow more ragged with every word and she closes her eyes. “You need to get her out of here, police coming.”

“Stop, Lily. You hold on. No more talking now.” I shake my head.

“Wipe the gun off on your shirt and then p-put it in my hand.” Her voice shakes, but she's adamant.

“What?”

“Hurry. Now.”

When I do as she asks, she fires two shots into the wooden table nearby. Sanda's crying grows louder. Lily winces, drops the gun, and closes her eyes.

“What are you doing?” I ask. My question comes out more like a yell, my ears haven't stopped ringing yet.

“Gun powder residue,” she whispers when I lean close to hear. “I just killed him. It should be on my hands.”

An icy shiver runs through my body and I shake my head. “No, Lily. I can't let you do that.”

“Relax. Look around you. It's clearly self-defense.” I take in the state of the room and realize she's right. With her injury, the table of weapons, and the obvious struggle, it's pretty clear what happened here. At least in a TV show it would be. I hope the shows get it right.

The sirens sound like they're almost on top of us.

“You both have to run, now. Sanda is no safer with the police than you are.”

Her words snap me into action. Of course she's right. I get to my feet and head for the hallway as we hear the sirens come to a stop just outside.

“Go through Cam's tech room. There's a back exit there. No one will see you.” Lily strains to get out the last few words and I can see the pain in her face.

“Thank you.” They are the only words I can come up with as I race out of the room with Sanda's hand tucked safely in mine.

 

32

We go home to shower, bandage ourselves up, and change before we head to Penn Hospital. Neither of us speaks a word.

Janice knocks on my door, and when I open it her eyes widen so much I'm afraid they might fall out. I can't even begin to answer the millions of concerned questions she throws at me.

“I'm sorry, but we're alive, we're exhausted, and we need to get to the hospital to check on Cam. Can we please come by and chat tomorrow?”

“Of course, but please let me know if I can do anything. Okay?” After I nod, she gives us each a hug and closes the door after casting me a sad glance on her way out.

Every few minutes, Sanda starts crying again. If I wasn't so drained and empty of emotion, I'd do the same. I can't find tears to match the pain that oozes from every piece of me. Judging from the throbbing headache and occasional moments of nausea, I'm fairly certain I have a concussion, but it's a mild one and nothing compared to Cam's and Lily's injuries.

Everyone I care about was in danger today. Some still might not make it. Each person who dies takes a piece of me with them that I'll never get back. With so much of me gone, how can I be anything more than a shell without them?

We walk through the hospital doors with Sanda's hand in mine. I can't be certain which of us is trembling harder. When we find the ER desk, I freeze up, terrified to step forward and ask the question I've been dodging for hours. Did Cam make it?