I winced as Ray grabbed me by the hair, practically pulling me from the trunk. My feet caught on the lip of the trunk, and I fell on my knees hard, scraping them on the concrete below. My eyes blinked, and I realized we were in a parking lot. The light I’d seen from the trunk was from the nearest pole. I didn’t recognize the area, but then again, I was too busy staring up at Ray to get a good look.
“Get up,” he ordered, “and look at the last present I have for you.” When I made no moves to get up, he added, “You are lucky, Ash, I’m not leaving you in the same state you left me when you called the police.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “They’ll be on their way here shortly, I think, but by then it’ll be too late.”
Too late? My heart nearly stopped. Was this it? Was Ray going to kill me?
And then I saw that the trunk I was in was not the only car nearby. There was another car—the same one I’d seen in the garage at the house Ray’d been bunking in. The one with the corpses in the back. The driver’s door hung open, and I heard its engine idling.
But that…that wasn’t all of it. My stomach curdled when I saw the silver chain wrapped around the car’s bumper, hanging on the concrete of the parking lot. Ten feet of chain, the links thick and shiny, trailing along the ground like a metal snake, its other end wrapped around the waist of a girl I knew.
Brooklyn. And she’d looked better. Her clothes were disheveled and stained, some parts of the clothing bloody.
Her hands were held behind her back, and I saw her neck was tied against the light pole behind her with another, separate circle of chains. She looked awful, her skin pale, her cheeks gaunt. A dirty gag rested in her mouth, and her eyes were open, staring at me. Whimpers left her every few seconds, and it was with a disgusted stomach that I noticed she was missing an entire foot.
Just…gone, a nub in its place. A nub that looked like it was cauterized in the back of a drug van or something.
“I gave you parts of her, but I’m guessing your tattooed boyfriend didn’t give them to you. If you think you’re safer with him than with me, you’re wrong,” Ray told me pointblank. Then, then his lips curled into a smile that would haunt my every dream. “I’ve been patient with you, Ash. I have, but you have to learn that my patience doesn’t last forever. The longer you wait to come back to me, the more bodies I’ll leave you with. This bitch—” He pointed at Brooklyn. “—is a gift, but also a warning. You’re mine, Ash, and if I have to kill every single person you’ve ever met to make you believe it, I will.”
My throat was dry; no words would come out of me, even if I tried to speak. I said nothing, merely watching as Ray went to the idling car, bent to lean in the driver’s side. He was bent over for only a minute, doing something under the steering wheel. He got out, straightening himself within moments, and it was then that the tires started squealing, as if he’d done something to the pedal to floor it.
The wheels rubbed against the pavement, and I knew I could probably hurry into that car and try to stop it from moving, attempt to undo whatever Ray’d done. Brooklyn knew this too, for her whimpering increased, her azure stare widening as I remained in place.
My gaze locked with hers, and even though no one deserved to meet their end at the hands of my psycho ex, it was hard for me to feel remorse over refusing to help, over just standing there and letting what would happen happen. Brooklyn had tried to kill me, tried to have me raped. She was toxic and vile, a bitch of epic proportions. Maybe I’d have nightmares over this, maybe not.
No, I wasn’t going to help her. Maybe that was just my own psychotic side poking through.
The car began moving once the wheels got traction, driving away from the light pole Brooklyn was attached to. I could not look away, even though I knew what was going to happen. Ray’s hazel eyes watched me all the while, and he said not another word as he hurried to his car. By the time it was over, he’d be long gone.
The chain attached to the bumper on the car became taut in a matter of seconds, and Brooklyn’s thin body was no match. The other end of the chain was tight enough around her waist to dig into her skin, lift her remaining foot off the ground, pulling with no give, no slack. Brooklyn screamed into the gag as the chain around her neck held her top half to the light pole, but that sound wasn’t the sound that drew my focus.
No, it was a wet sound. The sound of a spine being pulled apart and her guts loosening, her skin separating just above the chain. The car literally pulled Brooklyn apart right in front of my eyes, splattering me with her wet, warm blood. My clothes, my face. Luckily my mouth was closed. Brooklyn stopped screaming the moment her body became two pieces, and the car dragged her lower half across the parking lot—until its front end slammed into the base of another light pole further away. A thick line of blood and gore had followed it, coming from her lower half. A trail of organs and intestines splattered along the pavement too, a disgusting sight, one that I’d never forget.
My heart was nearly frozen in place as I slowly tore my gaze away from the car and the chain, away from Brooklyn’s lower half and her guts, and to the part of her still chained to the pole. Her midsection bled from her severed stomach, thick organs falling out with slimy sounds. Her head hung at a weird angle on the chain, her eyes still open.
I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t. I could hardly breathe as I looked at her.
This…this wasn’t beautiful. I didn’t want this, even though she’d been a bitch. Though I stood back and let it happen before me, though I didn’t try to save her, this was not something I wanted. I wasn’t like Ray; I didn’t take pleasure in other’s pain. Ray had scarred me, and now he’d giftwrapped me for the police.
The image of Brooklyn’s torn-up body was imprinted in my brain by the time I heard sirens, and when a police car pulled up, its blue and red lights flashing, a man got out and shouted for me to get to my knees and put my hands on the back of my head.
Everything became a blur after that. With my hands on the back of my head, I was shoved to the ground, my face colliding with the concrete hard as my hands were grabbed and forced behind my lower back, cuffs slapped on them as the policeman called for backup.
I didn’t know it then, but that night would be the turning point in my life. After that night, nothing would ever be the same.
Chapter Twenty-Eight – Ash
They took pictures of me, asked me hundreds of questions over and over again after bringing me to the station. I told them about Ray, because what else could I do? I didn’t tell them my history with him, but at least with a serial killer on their radar, they wouldn’t look so hard at me. That’s what I thought, anyway. The truth was that I was found at a crime scene, with a girl who’d apparently been missing for weeks.
And here’s the kicker: Brooklyn’s friends had said she’d been getting into fights with a blonde girl with pink tips.
Yeah, it looked bad for me, not going to lie. I didn’t know what would happen, if I’d be arrested for these crimes, even though I hadn’t done a single thing. This was Ray’s present, dropping me with the police, leaving me with them just as I’d done to him all that time ago.
I sat by myself in a room, sitting in a cold chair and staring at the metal table in front of me. A camera sat in the corner of the room, blinking red every so often, signaling that it was on and recording. A big mirror sat on the far wall opposite me, but I knew it wasn’t a mirror. It was a window they could watch me out of.
I really hoped I gave nothing away. Exhaustion gripped my bones, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep for a long time. I knew I was in some deep trouble, but it was like after watching Brooklyn being torn apart, it wasn’t registering.
Ray.
Ray had to die. I was going to fucking kill him—and even though death was not something I reveled in, I would enjoy watching him die. He’d caused so much grief in my life, so much misery in others’ lives. The world would be a better place without him, just as it would be without Brooklyn.
Cleanin
g up the streets, bit by bit.
I didn’t know what time it was. Had to be early next morning. Blood still splattered me, but they’d taken my clothes as evidence after taking pictures of me. I wore stuff from their lost and found, baggy clothes that were nearly five sizes too big for me.
I heard a loud commotion in the hall, and I figured they were about to come in and question me again, maybe make an official arrest, but as I tilted my head to listen, it sounded like someone else was here. Someone new.
The door to my interrogation room opened, and a man in a suit stood, though his head was turned to the hall behind him. “Unless you’re arresting my client, I’m taking her home. You know how to reach me.” His voice was dark and strong, stern and powerful. It reverberated in my very soul, and it was when the man turned his head toward me that my stomach clenched.
Staring at him was like staring at Travis, only this man had pitch-black eyes and a scowl that could scare anyone to death.
“Get up, Miss Bonds. We’re leaving,” he said, his frown deepening as he tossed a glare at the police in the hall behind him.
Confused, I knew better than to ask him who he was or why he was here. My lawyer? I didn’t have a lawyer, and I didn’t have the money for one. I didn’t even get to call Travis or Declan, make sure they were okay…
I got up and followed him through the station, ignoring the looks from the officers. Even the men and women in blue were afraid of the man I walked behind.
He was…tall. Very tall. Six and a half feet, maybe, but unlike most tall people, he was fit, not gangly. His body wasn’t stretched out and thin. He was muscular under that suit, with hair as black as the night, though it looked blue in certain lighting, just like Travis’s did. His jaw was free of stubble, and even though it was an ungodly hour, he didn’t look tired. He looked like a man on a mission.
I was that mission.
His car, unsurprisingly, was a black sports car, the kind of car a super-rich man would have. Lawyers were rich, but this man…he was something else. He helped me into the passenger seat before moving to the other side, tugging on his right sleeve to glance at a fancy watch that rested on his wrist. His frown only deepened.
I watched him get in. Being in a car with a handsome stranger who must’ve been quite a few years older than Travis made me uneasy. This man was probably the most intense, inherently frightening man I’d ever seen. He was drop dead gorgeous in a terrifying way, the kind of handsomeness that made you question your sanity. Too good-looking, even while scowling.
He started the car and drove us to the road, saying nothing for the longest while. The sun was about to rise in the distance, meaning the police had me for hours, as did Ray.
His rough, low voice eventually spoke, causing my heart to skip a beat, “I’m not a lawyer, by the way.” His black eyes were on me for a split-second. “You look good in red, Ash.” A compliment. A compliment for the blood staining my face and my neck. “The name’s Markus, but I’m guessing you already knew that.”
This was Markus, Travis’s older brother? This was…this was the one who’d help us catch Ray?
You know what? I could see it. I could totally see it. The vibe coming off this man was absolutely terrifying; I almost hated being in the same car as him. Danger came off him in waves, coating every single word he spoke.
“I hear you have a problem with your ex,” Markus went on, calm and collected, considering the topic of conversation.
“Yeah,” I whispered, feeling faint.
“We’re going to take care of him.”
I said nothing, because I knew, without a doubt, he spoke the truth. Ray was a monster, but this man? This man was a monster that could walk into a police station and make every single officer bend to his will. Markus was a different breed of dark, a different shade of black.
Markus drove us to Sawyer’s house, and inside, I found Declan and Travis in the living room. Both were alive, thank God. Tears bit at the corners of my eyes, and I rushed to them, hugging them both. The feeling of their arms around me was comforting, and I could’ve lost myself to them—if I didn’t hear a loud crunching coming from the kitchen. I pulled away from them, turning to look at another new face.
Markus was busy walking in, shedding his suit jacket and revealing a snug vest over a dark red button-down shirt. The man wore nice clothes well, but the one in the kitchen wasn’t half as fancy—still, I knew better than to judge the man in the kitchen based on his clothes.
“Cute as a fucking button,” the man in the kitchen spoke, dry sarcasm lacing every word, giving me a smirk that chilled me to my core. He had one hand in a cereal box, leaning back. He wore a tight black shirt and dark jeans that hugged his lean, long frame. His eyes were as black as Markus’s, and they studied me intensely. “I love a girl with blood on her.” Out of everyone, he was the oldest. Maybe in his early thirties.
“Are you okay?” Declan whispered, and I tore my gaze away from the man lounging in the kitchen, meeting his amber eyes and wishing I could get lost in them.
I nodded. “Are you?”
“He’s fine,” Travis muttered, causing Declan to glare at him. “Whose blood is that?”
“Brooklyn,” I said, causing Declan’s eyes to widen. Travis didn’t look surprised, and I knew it was because Travis had known, for who knew how long, that Ray had her. He’d kept it from me, probably to protect me. I was a little miffed, but at the same time, now wasn’t the right moment to call him out on it. “She’s dead.”
The man in the kitchen frowned at the next piece of cereal he pulled from the box, muttering, “I miss Ed’s cooking.”
Markus turned his scowl to him. “What’s wrong with the food at the house?”
“Nothing, nothing,” the other man spoke with a shrug. “Ed just has a certain flair, I guess—”
“Do you want me to stick him in the kitchen then? I assumed he would rather work side by side with your Butcher and your Angel Maker.”
“Hey,” the man in the chair hissed, “the fucking ginger is not mine.”
Travis’s chest let out an annoyed rumble. “You’ve already met Markus,” he said. “That other one is Lincoln.”
“Both your brothers?” I asked quietly as Markus and Lincoln argued. Their looks were similar, both the tall, dark, and handsome type. Travis was the only one with piercing blue eyes. The rest of their stares were dark.
“Yes,” Travis spoke.
I nodded, having figured it already. Travis had never spoken of Lincoln before, but Markus he’d been trying to get over here for a month now. My feet drew me towards them. Both Markus and Lincoln stopped bickering to look at me. Declan and Travis were behind me. With Will hopefully safe at his apartment and Sawyer in rehab, this was the team I’d have. This was the group I’d use to get Ray.
I knew I had dried blood on me, knew I should go upstairs and wash it off, but I didn’t. I simply addressed the four men around me, asking the one thing I had on my mind, the one question I sought to get an answer for: “So…how do we catch a psycho?”
Catch. Kill. Same thing.
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Psycho: A Dark College Romance (Hillcrest University Book 4) Page 21
