Games of Fire (61 page)

He didn’t smile, but there was a mad glint in his eyes
—pleasure, she realized with revulsion.

“That was around the time Aimee went missing.” She paused to take a deep breath, too afraid to voice the horror in her mind. “Did you
…?”

His eyes narrowed.
“She hurt you.” Then he was gone.

He returned several minutes later and motioned her over. He stood in the doorway, signaling her past him to the other side. The oddity of it had her feet freezing on the sheet of ice that was the floor. Her mind rocketed with possibilities of escape, of freedom, of possible death. Surely he wouldn’t kill her, right?

“Do you want that shower or not?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

That had her feet moving. There was nothing more alluring than the temptation of
a real shower to wash the grime off her skin. But she kept her steps even, slow, not allowing him the pleasure of seeing how much this meant to her. He had made it no secret that he wanted her to see how much she needed him. This was just another mind game for him.

The world beyond the cell was a short hallway made entirely of gray bricks. It went for some distance before turning a corner. There was only one other door cut into the grimy wall and it didn’t have a door. That’s where he led her.

The solid wall of stench slammed into her before she even set foot fully into the eerie place. It was the overpowering punch of bleach and heavy-duty chemical cleaners that big industries used to disinfect. Just the proximity had the hairs in her nose shriveling up and her eyes burning. The harsh taste coated her tongue and trickled down her throat to churn her stomach. Like her room, it was a made entirely of concrete. There was a filthy toilet on one side, a leaky sink next to it and a claw footed tub with no curtains on the opposite side. There were no windows, just a single bulb overhead, throwing a sick, prison-house glow over the place.

“Go ahead,” he said motioning towards the
tub.

Sophie stared at him, not fully understanding if he was serious. “In there?” she said, just barely hiding her disgust.

“We can go back if you like.” He began taking steps towards her cell.

“No!” she blurted, hating herself an instant later. “But I need a towel and shampoo.”

With a satisfied glint in his eyes, he jerked a chin towards the rack next to the shower. There, in a neat pile, was a raggedy towel that had more stains than a doormat, a bottle of nameless shampoo and a bar of soap that looked used.

Sophie swallowed the urge to comment, knowing he was waiting for it. She walked stiffly to the
tub and glanced back.

“Privacy?”

He didn’t bother concealing his smirk this time as he folded his arms and leaned a shoulder against the rotted frame. “I don’t think so. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can at least turn your back!”

“You have nothing I haven’t already seen,” he countered.

Humiliation burned bright
and hot beneath her skin as she realized this was his intention. This was the price he mentioned for allowing her the luxury of basic human needs. He wanted her humiliated. He wanted her to feel dirty and watched. Her bottom lip trembled, but she bit down hard on it, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

Turning her back, she started the shower, relieved that there was hot water. She stripped quickly and dropped her gown on the floor.

The water pressure was hard, like a nail gun shooting at her skin, but it felt like heaven. Or it would have if she hadn’t been so desperate to break the speed record for fastest shower in history. No more than ten minutes could have passed and she snapped the water off. The towel held a strange odor to it, like motor oil, but she wrapped it securely around herself and turned to him.

It annoyed her that she was surprised. A part of her had hoped he would find a shred of humanity, of decency and turn his back, but he hadn’t. He probably hadn’t even blinked.

“How can you wonder why I would ever pick Spencer over you?” she hissed before she could stop herself, her humiliation, fear and anger getting the better of her. “He
never
did half the things you’ve done to me and we’ve been best friends our whole lives. Maybe everyone was right about you. They clearly saw what a sick f—”

The crack of his backhand sent her flying. She hit the floor with a bone rattling crash that paralyzed her as hot rivers of pain shot through her veins. He’d smacked her before, but this was nothing like that. There was a pool of blood in her mouth and her entire face was numb
, yet throbbing. Her head swam as she fought to keep afloat in a black ocean threatening to pull her under. The world rang with the severity of a fire alarm. Her stomach rebelled as she twisted onto her back to find him looming over her, his hands ten points of violence fisted into balls of rage at his sides. His eyes burned against his twisted features, a demonic mask of fury. He was breathing hard as he stared down at her.

“Why won’t you learn?” he hissed. “I know you’re stubborn, but it won’t get you anything. Do you like being punished? I don’t like hurting you, but you’re not giving me any choice.” He sighed. His face softened. His knees popped as he knelt down beside her. “Let me see.” He reached for her face, ignoring her cringing. His fingers were remarkably
tender pinching her chin, turning her face towards him. There was blood speckles on the back of his hand, she noted, tearing into her cheek to keep from bursting into tears. “Come on.”

He lifted her into his arms, unaware or paying no attention to her
rigid frame as he carried her back to her room. He kicked the door closed with the heel of his boots and took her to the bed. The springs squeaked as she was lowered against the pillows.

“I’ll get a rag and we’ll clean you up,” he said, already turning to leave.

He left the door open. Sophie heard his footfalls moving into the makeshift shower room, but the door was open. Just open. She didn’t hesitate.

She lunged off the bed and ran, still clutching the towel securely. Her heart drummed in her chest, a wild rabbit escaping the hunter. She raced straight past the room with the shower and kept running, making it all the way to the opening at the far end of the corridor before thick arms swept around her middle.

Sophie screamed. She screamed and flailed, kicking and punching at the air as she was easily lifted. She grabbed at the concrete doorway with both hands, twisting her body. Her efforts paid off when she slipped from his grasp, landing awkwardly on her knees. The pain was fleeting, overpowered by adrenaline as she shot to her feet.

“Where are you going to go naked?”

It took a second to decide: stay and accept the towel he held out to her or run.

She turned into the wall of semi darkness beyond the opening and ran towards the splinter of light pouring over wooden steps.

“Wrong decision!”

For the second time in minutes, she was hoisted into his arms and tossed over his shoulder. Her screams seemed to echo from everywhere as she was carted back to her cell. No amount of kicking or punching fazed him. He stepped into her room, kicked the door closed and dumped her on the bed. Sophie did the first thing that came to mind. She twisted her body and kicked out with
her legs, not expecting to make contact, but feeling a jolting thrill when her feet slammed square in his gut. His
oomph
of pain was satisfying for only a split second before his fist collided with the side of her face and the world closed to black.

There was no disorientation when her eyes fluttered open. She knew exactly where she was and what had happened. What gave her a moment of confusion was the slow flicker of candlelight puncturing the darkness, keeping at bay the shadows. It sat on a stool, bathing the bed with its yellow glow.

She was on her back, dressed in a fresh nightgown and tucked lovingly beneath the sheets. It was all so normal—as normal as the situation was—except she couldn’t lower her arms.

“You left me no choice, Sophie.” His voice moved in from beyond the ring of light.

She jerked on her arms, twisting her neck
, ignoring the throbbing in her skull to examine the strips of fabric binding her wrists to the headboard.

“Why did you do it?” He moved into the light, perching on the mattress by her hip. “Why did you try to run?”

It was difficult to tell when the candle was behind him, illuminating the curls on his head, but otherwise obscuring his features, but his tone was genuinely hurt.

Sophie wasn’t sure if she was dumbfounded or pissed when she spoke. “You tortured me for two months and then kidnapped me, took me away from my family and friends and locked me up in this
… prison! You tied me to a bed, beat me, belittled and humiliated me and you’re asking why I ran?”

His head dropped forward, something a normal person would do when they were repenting their mistakes. “Everything I did was for your own good! You don’t understand that right now, but you will.”

She jerked away when he tried to touch her face. “You’re just like your father! You’re evil!”

Every drop of air in the room seemed to vanish into some mysterious void. Even the candle seemed to freeze in mid sway as if the unexpected tension had somehow solidified around it.

“You can’t possibly know that for a fact,” he murmured so quietly, she nearly didn’t hear him. “You have no idea what my father was like. You have no idea the things he would do to me and …
her.
He didn’t care about anyone. He didn’t care if we lived or died. But I’m trying to protect you! I’m trying to keep you safe. I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”

“Because this is wrong!” she cried. “You can’t do this to people. You murdered young girls.”

“They weren’t important. You are!”

She shook her head. “They were important to somebody.”

He shrugged. “That isn’t my problem. If someone cared, they should have been looking out for them. You had me. I was always there to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

“Like at the party when you went and made friends with Brent?” she mocked bitterly. “Tell me, did you give them directions to my house or did you drive them there yourself?”

“They were a means to a much bigger outcome,” he answered simply. “They were only supposed to scare you a little, show you how vulnerable you were and how much you needed me. They took it too far.”

“So you ratted them out to the police.”

His shoulder jerked. “I had to. You went underground. I couldn’t find you. I knew that once the threat was secured, you’d come back to me. All it took was some planted evidence and a call to the police. You returned the next day.”

“I didn’t come back to you! I came back to my friends, something I once considered you a part of.” She soaked back the malice from her voice, not wanting to unleash his anger again, but wanting answers. “Why did you take Aimee?”

“I told you, she hurt you and I needed one final tester to secure this place.”

“What do you mean?”

He gestured vaguely around with a hand. “Just the small things like if there was anything in the room that I needed to add or take away. If there was anything lying around that was harmful to you or me. If it would be easy to break out. Things like that. Each person thinks differently and it was interesting to see how they coped under the situation.”

It churned her stomach how lightly he spoke of murdering people. His tone was light as though they were discussing the morning crossword section. What level of madness did that to a person, because clearly he hadn’t been sane for a very long time, which made her wonder why she hadn’t noticed it before
.

“But I have to confess,” he continued with a small hint of a smile in his voice. “Aimee was my favorite. It took her the longest to break, well, aside from you. She had such a mouth on her.
I was almost sad when her time was up. I think I would have enjoyed breaking her completely.”

“Oh God!”
No amount of inhaling through her nostrils helped appease the sickness roiling in her chest. “You’re sick! You need help!”

He sighed. “That’s what they all said. In the end, look where it got them.”

“Where is Aimee?”

“Why do you care? She was horrible to you.”

“Where is she?”

He waved absentmindedly towards the door. “Gone. No one will ever find her.”

“What do you want with me? Are you going to kill me, too?”

She couldn’t see it, but she was sure his eyes had widened in shock. “No! Of course not! Sophie.” She tried not to
react when he framed her face in his hands. “I would never hurt you! I love you.”

“Then why am I locked down here, tied to a bed?” she cried. “You don’t do this to someone you love!”

He moved back. “Don’t you think I know that? I tried to get you to see me, to love me, for years! But you went after every … asshole out there without ever once looking at me. There was Brian Fisher, which never worried me. I knew he’d never want you back. I figured I would give you a little more time and maybe try again, but then Rowth walked into the picture and … he was different! Even when you claimed to hate him, I saw how you watched him and how he watched you. I hated the way he undressed you with his eyes. I wanted to stab him right there and then!” The venom in his words was like razorblades nicking gashes all over her body. “That week we spent together in the computer room was the best few days of my life! I thought you were finally giving me a chance and then you betrayed me!”