Saved by the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 2) (21 page)

A choked cry emerged from my throat as I saw the frame melted and warped in the flames. I fell to my knees before the fireplace and switched it off, my hand hovering inches above the twisted hot metal wanting to grab it. The photo of my mother was unrecognizable. The glass had shattered from the heat, the ink from the Polaroid bubbled and blackened beyond any saving.

“Goddamn Rick,” I said through the tears. He’d obviously been furious when he woke up without me and had gone on a rampage. “It’s too much...” I whispered. The attack felt so personal, so vindictive. I’d never told him about my mother. He had no way of knowing the meaning I’d assigned to that photo, but burning it symbolized everything he’d done to me, the past few years and the past couple months. In that moment, I went from fearing him to loathing him.

I rolled back onto my feet and stood on shaky legs, trying my best to figure out what I should do next. Blinking back the tears, I bent under my bed and grabbed the smallest suitcase. No sense dwelling on what I couldn’t change. Setting my jaw, I gave myself a mental pep talk. I had to move forward. Bryan would be waiting for me.

I picked through the clothes and dumped them into the suitcase in a heap, not bothering to fold them. Tiptoeing towards the hall, grabbing a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans along the way, I still couldn’t shake that sense of wrongness. It was like a subconscious throbbing that made the hair on my neck stand on end. As I looked down the hall, I tried to tell myself it was because most of the lights in the house were off. It was the first time in the entire time I’d stayed there I’d ever seen that many shadows.
You’re just freaking yourself out
, I tried to convince myself. Even so...something was off. A sharp metallic smell hit my nose, tickling the back of my throat and making me want to cough.

Kicking off my shoes so I could quietly walk down the hall, the feeling grew stronger, pulsing like electricity. I ran my fingers along the stone wall, the rough texture grounding my nerves, keeping me from soaring off into a full-blown panic attack. I rounded the corner and stopped short, letting my eyes adjust to the deep darkness. The kitchen was bathed in a pale light from the huge windows in the living room, casting everything in awkward silhouettes.

I took a few steps into the kitchen before I saw something hanging from one of the rafters. At first, I had no idea what I was looking at. I thought the shadows were playing tricks on my eyes, turning the mundane into the horrific. Squinting into the darkness, it was only when I saw the slight swing of his legs I realized it was a body.

I muffled my scream in the bundle of clothes I held in my arms, jumping away and into the counter with a hard thump. A jab of pain shot through my hip as I struck the marble counter, and I suddenly felt faint, stars sprinkling across my vision. Feeling along the wall with my right hand, eyes glued to the figure hanging from the center of the room, I found the light switch. I didn’t even know which set I was turning on, any light would do. I had to see who it was.

Heart pulsing fast and hard in my throat, I flicked on the recessed lights and blinked with the sudden change. His back was turned, but I’d seen Noah walk away from me enough times to recognize him from behind. The sound that came from me was simultaneously one of revulsion and relief.
At least it isn’t Kayla.

He hung from a rafter between the island and the counter, dangling in the middle of the kitchen like a morbid piñata. I rushed to his legs and tried to lift him, but the second I touched his cold bare skin, I knew he was long gone. I stepped back in horror. The rope creaked and groaned against the wood as his body rocked with the fresh movement. For the first time, he turned to face me. For as long as I live, I will never be able to forget that distorted, strangled expression. A single light from above cast his features in grotesque shadows and I had to turn away.

I flung myself to the sink, sure I was about to retch. Only when the dry heaving ceased did I try to take stock on what was happening. Keeping my eyes firmly on the floor, I tried to make my way out of the kitchen but I caught a glimpse of something peripherally under Noah’s feet. A note.

“Oh Jesus,” I mumbled as I turned towards it. Only two words were scrawled in a frantic handwriting.

i'm sorry

I remember even then, in the midst of all that horror, it didn’t sit right with me. Noah, even on the edge of committing suicide, didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would ever apologize for anything. Regardless, I set the note down and pulled out my phone, ready to call 911.

Stepping past the last counter in the kitchen and into the hall, I finally saw the blood. If the lights had been on in the hallway when I first left my room, it would’ve been the first thing I’d spotted. My mouth fell open as I dropped the bundle of clothes in my arms. There was so much. Dark streaks of it stretched down the wood floors, blotches of it splattered on the walls. It looked like someone had dipped a mop into a puddle of blood and swung it back and forth.

It was like something in my mind snapped. I couldn’t make sense of it. I looked at Noah and immediately thought it was his. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I’d never seen anything like it before. A dead body and lots of blood...it had to be from the same thing, right? Like a zombie, I stepped forward, squinting at the trail on the floor, moving slowly towards the master light switch at the front door.

When all of the lights came on, I simply couldn’t comprehend the scene before me. There was too much of it. No one could bleed this much and still live. It was dizzying to realize this was the source of the metallic scent that hung heavy in the air. In the light, I could clearly make out footprints, streaks that looked like they’d been left by fingers. It was an overwhelming, deadly amount of blood...and so much of it led directly from Kayla’s room.

Fresh panic and adrenaline coursing through my body, I ran down the hall. I rushed into her room, trashed in the same way mine was.
Rick
. Clothes and belongings were thrown all over the place. Her mattress had been pushed off the box spring and rested at an angle on the floor. The blood was everywhere. A light in her bathroom glowed and, like a moth to the flame, I found myself approaching it.

Again, I think something in my brain had snapped. I was moving automatically, pulled along from one horror to the next like I was on a track. When I saw the body floating in the tub, I swear, I saw Kayla. I screamed her name and dove towards the tub, thrusting my arms into the freezing water without a thought. It was only when I pulled the body up and out, I realized the long hair was actually blonde stained dark with blood. Her head lolled to the side, cloudy blue eyes gazing lifelessly up at me. I dropped her in horror, the bloody water sloshing out of the tub and onto the floor.

I couldn’t catch my breath, teetering on the edge of hyperventilating. I backed against the counter, my eyes locked on Stella’s body. It took a few moments before I realized the wretched sobbing sound I was hearing was coming from my own throat. I couldn’t get control of myself. I stared at my shaking hands, covered in blood. Although I was deathly silent, a scream rang out through my mind. Pieces of my reality shattered. I felt trapped inside a terrible dream I couldn’t escape.
Why is she dead? What did she do? Why would Rick have done this...why in Kayla’s room?

Wiping my hands on a towel I picked up from the floor, I finally found my voice. It came out in a strangled whisper, as if someone were holding my throat with their hand. “Kayla.” I finally managed to close my eyes, but it didn’t matter. Another terrible image would be burned in my memory for as long as I lived. “Kayla, please...” I begged the universe.

I forced myself to not look at Stella’s body as I stepped out of the bathroom. I scanned the remains of Kayla’s room and felt totally immobilized. It was as if my brain were working so hard and fast trying to figure out what was happening, it didn’t have enough energy to operate the rest of me. I began whispering to myself, working through the flood of thoughts. As I did, I found I was able to move, the dam unleashed.

“Why would he kill Stella? How long have they been dead? What’s going on? What the
fuck
?”

As I walked from the bedroom back to the hall, I couldn’t find a spot on the floor that wasn’t covered in at least a thin layer of blood. My socks stuck to some spots, pulling up with a stomach-churning
riiiip
as I pried them from the floor. Pushing away the urge to puke, it dawned on me that fresh blood shouldn’t be this tacky. Noah and Stella had been dead for hours. While I didn’t exactly feel good about this information, it reassured me that whoever had done this, chances were they weren’t hanging around the house.

Gathering enough wits about me to do something, I decided I should at least stop touching everything covered in DNA evidence and make my way to the front door. At least if someone came back, I’d have a chance of a quick exit. I made sure to stand to the side so I didn’t have to see Noah swinging from the ceiling. With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone to call Bryan. A wave of nausea rocked me when I saw the dried blood under every fingernail.
God, help me...

I had to steady myself as the world spun. When I was sure I wasn’t going to collapse on the floor, I swiped my phone on and called him. I had to lean against the door to keep my shaky legs upright.

“Hey babe, I just got to the house. You on your way?” Bryan answered. He sounded so excited. I wanted to hang up, to save him from the horrors I’d just seen. I didn’t want to be the one to rob that enthusiasm and happiness from him.

“Bry, I...” I took a deep, shaky breath.

“What’s wrong?” He knew immediately. Only his name and one word and he instantly knew something was wrong.

I fought for the courage to actually say the words. “Noah...and Stella...”

“What babe, what’s going on?” he said.

“They’re dead. I’m in the house and...Jesus, Bryan. I don’t know what’s happening. Why would anyone?”

“Wait, are you sure? Are you sure they didn’t just take something. They could be overdosing?”

“I’m pretty fucking sure,” I shouted. “Noah’s hanging like a fucking party decoration and I’m covered in Stella’s blood. I might be an idiot, but I think I can figure out when someone’s dead.” My voice echoed through the empty house, the anger and stress of it reverberating through my bones. He didn’t deserve to be snapped at, but I was in a pretty fragile state.

“Liz, you have to get out of there. Go, now. The longer you stay there, the more danger you’re in,” he said to me in a quiet but firm voice. It was the same voice he’d used with me when Rick was coming for us at the cabin. “Wherever you are, get out. Get as far away as you can. I’m coming.”

I looked at the front door almost in bewilderment, then to my feet. “I’m not wearing any shoes.” That dream-like feeling overwhelmed me again, as if I were floating just behind watching it all unfold. This wasn’t happening to me. It couldn’t possibly...

“Liz, go get a pair of shoes on and a jacket if it’s close by, do you understand me? Go to a neighbor’s house.”

I started giggling as I stepped towards my bedroom, the sound foreign to my ears. It was harsh and a little maniacal. “I never have my shoes on when shit hits the fan, do I?” Even saying it out loud made me laugh even more. “That’s so stupid. I’m totally useless, aren’t I?”

“You aren’t useless, Liz,” he insisted. “You called the police before you called me, right?”

I started laughing even louder as I bent to pick up my jacket. “No, because I’m useless.”

“Fuck...” I could hear his keys jingling in the background. The sound seemed to stir a bit of sense within me.

“You can’t drive. You just got out of the hospital. You have a broken arm.”

“My girlfriend just walked into a multiple homicide and I’m supposed to stay home because I have a bump on the head? Come on.” He said it absentmindedly, like I’d asked him to jump over the Rockies or lasso the sun for me. But the word rang through my mind. I held onto it, my sanity clinging to the identity.
Girlfriend
. I needed it to keep me grounded. “Are you there? Liz!”

“I’m here,” I whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on keeping myself together. My toes were dangling over a precarious edge and I felt like it wouldn’t take much of a push. “I’m here, with shoes on,” I said as I jammed my feet into the tops of my boots.

“I want you to hang up and call the police, tell them what’s happened. They need to know straight away, okay? After you get off the phone with them, call me right back. I’m driving to you right now.”

“Okay, okay, I can do that.”

“Get out of the house, okay? Get out now. Go and call them, hide if you have to, make sure you don’t come out for anyone but me or the police.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll call you right back.”

I called 911 as I stepped onto the porch. As heightened as my senses were with all the adrenaline flowing through my veins, I didn’t have a real sense of danger. Whatever had happened here, it’d occurred hours before. I suppose I was probably in shock, but at that moment, I thought I was taking everything in stride. By the time I’d reached 911 and convinced the operator I was not some teenager playing a prank, I’d only made it down the front steps. My calm demeanor hadn’t worried the dispatcher and she’d been happy enough to let me hang up the phone. I still wasn’t sure she believed me, but the police were on their way.