You Will Be Mine

by Natasha Preston

  "He killed a cop," I mutter as Chace calls for Charlotte and Sienna. What chance do we have if he's murdering the very people who have been assigned to protect us?

  "Why are you shouting, Chace?" Sienna snaps from the top of the stairs. Her dark hair is matted, and she rubs her eyes.

  "Officer Benjamin is dead."

  Straight to the point.

  Her eyes widen. "What? The cop outside?"

  Charlotte opens her door down the hallway. "Wait, what were you saying? Jake killed a police officer?"

  Sienna slowly lowers herself to sit on the top step. "He's going to get us."

  I glare at her, really damn annoyed that she's giving up. Sure, maybe the odds are stacked heavily against us, but that doesn't mean we're completely helpless. "Don't say that!" I shout, my eyes brimming with tears. I need some hope to cling to.

  I head into the living room to call Riley. I need my big brother. I don't care if that makes me less independent. I need the support of my family.

  "Lylah, are you okay?" Riley asks, answering my call on the second ring.

  I explain what happened with a few quick sobs. "I'm freaking out," I tell him.

  "When was this?" my brother roars.

  "We just found out. My head is spinning."

  Riley spits out a string of swears. "How shit are the cops at their job? There is one killer and dozens of them. I'm on my way to you. Don't move."

  "Riley, I--" I just want to talk and for him to listen for a minute before he rushes over, but he hangs up the phone.

  I guess he's had enough of my talking. And I can't help but be grateful he's coming to take care of me. We all need someone, right? I shouldn't feel like a failure for wanting to lean on family during times like these.

  I'm sure that's what my friends would tell me, what my therapist would have told me. Being strong doesn't mean I don't need other people. And I think I'm finally starting to understand that.

  *

  Riley arrives about ten minutes after we hang up. Sienna lets him in after the police have cleared him. I wrap my arms around my big brother. He hugs me back.

  "No one is ever going to hurt you while I'm around, Lylah. I promised Mom and Dad to always look out for you. I won't break that promise."

  I know Riley probably couldn't stop Jake if he wanted to kidnap or kill me, but I do feel safer with him around.

  "I can't believe that officer is dead! And that he cut some of my hair." I fiddle with the back of my head, where earlier I finally noticed a piece of hair that was shorter than all the rest. "I didn't notice he cut my hair."

  "How would you notice that, Ly?"

  "Well... Okay, I don't know. It give me the creeps that he's been so close."

  Riley grinds his teeth, his hands balling into fists.

  I need to change topics before he starts ranting. "Want a cup of tea?"

  He laughs without humor. "Sure, kiddo."

  Riley follows me into the kitchen where Sienna, Charlotte, and Chace sit around the table staring at a note.

  "I thought you gave that to the detectives," I say.

  "We did," Chace responds.

  "Another one came in with the mail a little while ago. We just found it," Sienna says. "We're waiting for the police to finish outside and come back in to show them."

  I lean over to read it.

  Jake must be getting desperate. He's never sent so many notes all at once before. The last two haven't been addressed like the earlier ones, but I know this letter is for me. I can feel it. I mean, my hair was with the last one. He's using hair instead of ink to address the person he's threatening.

  I take an involuntary step back. I'm the center of Jake's sick vendetta. I must be. It's the only thing that makes sense. I would be out of my mind to comply, but if I don't, one of my friends will be killed. Jake doesn't make empty threats. He's proved that already.

  My brother and my friends will tell me not to go. If they were in my position, would they take their own advice though?

  Riley gives me a stern glare. I've never seen him look so much like Dad. "The guy is tripping if he thinks anyone is meeting him."

  "Agreed," Chace says. "The detectives should be in shortly."

  Sienna stands. "I'll get some coffee going."

  Riley and I sit at the table. I read the note again and again. My heart palpitates, and I press my fists to my chest. Calm down. Please calm down.

  "Lylah?" Riley's hand squeezes my shoulder. "You're okay."

  Two notes in one day--both with no name. Does he just assume we all know it's me he wants? I take a breath. And another, trying to keep them steady and slow so I don't hyperventilate.

  Sienna brings over the hot drinks, but no one makes a move for them.

  If I don't meet him, Charlotte, Sienna, or Chace will be next. Riley could be a target now too. I can't lose anyone else. Especially not my brother.

  Would Jake save me for last? Or will he kill me on the spot if I meet him?

  I've never really thought about my own mortality, even after my parents died, but I'd be okay dying to save someone I love. My friends mean a lot to me. Each person around this table has helped me through so much, whether they know it or not. How can I gamble with their lives?

  Chace's green eyes keep catching mine. He shifts uneasily in his seat, and I would give anything to know what he's thinking.

  The silence that rubs against my skin like shards of glass.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket.

  My heart pounds. It's Jake. I know before I've even taken my phone out of my pocket. It has to be.

  My heart thuds. What would they all think if they knew the killer was contacting me directly? What if they thought I was somehow part of all this?

  Careful not to alarm or alert the others, I subtly slide the phone from my pocket and check the screen under the table. My breath catches in my throat.

  On Valentine's Day, you will be mine.

  22

  Tuesday

  February 13

  I wake up in Chace's arms, so it's officially the best morning ever. He's wrapped around me like koala clinging to a tree, so I'm roasting hot. But it's nice. I haven't been able to shake my chill since I received Jake's text. So far I haven't told a soul. Chace knows something is off, but Riley, surprisingly, hasn't said anything or noticed I've been acting weird.

  Gently, I move Chace's arm, and he rolls onto his back. I hold my breath. He sighs, still sound asleep. I don't want to wake him. He was unsettled last night, tossing and turning. I couldn't sleep either. Jake's text message has been on my mind all night.

  Making the wrong decision will be fatal. Meeting a murderer in a secluded place is insanity, but ignoring a murder's threats could be worse.

  I can't win.

  Maybe if I tell Detective Lina, we can set up the meeting to look like I am alone, and the police can catch him.

  Except there are so many risks and no guarantees.

  I take one last look at Chace and slink out of bed and his room. Since it's 5:30 a.m., no one else is up. That suits me, because I need a coffee and some time to think.

  I brew a fresh pot and sit down at the table with my phone and mug. My hand shakes as I open the text I received a few minutes after the first one yesterday.

  Can't wait until Valentine's Day. Meet me at Limbo tonight. 10 PM. Alone.

  Limbo is an old club everyone on campus used to go to, which closed down late last year. The building is still empty, but there's a lease sign outside, so I don't think it will be empty for much longer.

  If I meet Jake tonight, I should formulate my own plan. I'm no criminal mastermind, but I'm not stupid either. I could think of something to outsmart him. He's getting more and more desperate, and he's out there, alone, with no support, and his mind isn't clear. Obviously. So I probably could do this. I could maybe do this.

  But I'm not like him. How could I win playing him at his own game?

  I have to tell Detective Lina. The police orchestrate th
ese kind of traps all the time. They'll know what to do. If I go alone, I'm only putting more people in danger and risking Jake escaping.

  This has to stop, and I'm the only person who can stop it.

  "Lylah?"

  Chace's voice makes me leap out of my skin. He stands in the kitchen doorway, his bare chest on show. It's very distracting. Eyes up, Lylah!

  He frowns, ignoring my ogling of him. "What're you doing up so early?" He rubs his eyes.

  "Couldn't sleep."

  "Really? You're going to pretend you're not okay because of a bad night's sleep? Let me in, Lylah. Please." The concern lacing his voice compels me to spill my secret. I hate how hurt he sounds. We should be deliriously happy to be starting a new relationship. Chace means everything to me, and I don't want secrets between us. I'm anxious enough about all that's happening, I can't start lying to the people I care about.

  I take a deep breath. "Yesterday, I received a text," I tell him. "From Jake."

  His eyes widen further than I've ever seen them. "What the hell, Lylah?! Why didn't you tell me sooner? What does it say?"

  I know he's mad I didn't immediately tell him, but I stand by my decision. I needed a little time before dragging anyone else into it.

  I drop my phone into his open palm. "I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to stress you out even more after yesterday."

  His forehead creases as he frowns. "You realize there is no way I'm letting you meet him, don't you?"

  I roll my eyes, more at myself than him. I'm not about to let him tell me what I can and can't do, but right now, I kind of like his protective instinct.

  "It's all I thought about all night," I say.

  He tilts his head, places my phone on the table, and without breaking eye contact, sits down. Although he's concerned, his posture is rigid and standoffish. "You considered going, didn't you?"

  "Of course, I did. Still am considering it. Chace, I could end this tonight."

  Chace's eyebrows wrinkle, and his eyes light up with fear. He feels even more distant from me. "You could die!"

  "Yeah, I get that. So I'm not going, okay? At least not alone. I'll call Detective Lina and see how she wants to handle this."

  All the times I thought about how things would be between me and Chace after we got together, none of the scenarios were like this. And I don't even mean losing Sonny and Isaac and the crap with Jake. Our relationship is tense, and I'm scared we're not strong enough to get through this without unintentionally hurting each other. I'm holding on to him by a thread. I can feel my old ways creeping back in. I want to put walls up and hide, so I need this to work.

  There is so much loss and pain in our house; we need to foster the good so it doesn't turn sour.

  "Chace," I whisper.

  He's sitting close to me, but there may as well be an eight-foot wall between us. How did we get so far from where we were last night?

  "What if they want to set a trap?" he asks.

  "I think they will. It's our best chance. Jake has proved he's excellent at hide-and-seek, so we need to take advantage of him reaching out."

  "They'll want you to walk into that building on your own."

  "Yeah, but they would be there too," I say.

  "Not close enough. Don't agree to that."

  Okay, being bossy just stopped being cute.

  "You can't tell me what to do," I tell Chace.

  "I think I just did."

  Closing my eyes, I grit my teeth so I don't say anything I'll regret. Arguing with Chace is new, and I don't like it.

  "Lylah, I'm trying to protect you here."

  When I open my eyes, I wish I hadn't. Chace looks at me, eyes glossy with tears.

  "I can't lose you," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

  "You won't." I reach out and squeeze his hand.

  He dips his head in a curt nod. His jaw is still tight and shoulders bunched. Seriously, why can't I be a mind reader?

  Chace watches me as I let go of him and dial Detective Lina. I work to keep myself composed as I tell her everything I just told Chace.

  "I'm on my way, Lylah. Do not reply to his message," the detective says.

  I don't intend to.

  I hang up and give Chace a smile. "She's coming. God, this could all be over soon. I want to be able to leave the house alone. I want to feel safe when I go to sleep."

  Chace's posture softens. He reaches out and covers my hand with his. "Let's hope they can finish this."

  "You don't sound confident."

  "It's hard to be confident after...everything."

  "Are you okay, Chace?"

  He sighs like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. "I don't know how to say it or if I even want to."

  I place my hand on his tense shoulder, feeling the muscles bunch up with stress. I'd give anything to make him feel better about this whole thing. "You can talk to me."

  Licking his lips, he shifts in his seat.

  My heart starts to race. "Chace, you're kind of scaring me here."

  One side of his mouth curls up. He reaches up and squeezes my hand that still rests on his shoulder. "Sorry. Sonny and Isaac... I have other friends here, but not like them. I can't get my head around the fact that they're gone, and they're not coming back. Isaac and I made a pact shortly after Sonny died to protect you, Charlotte, and Sienna. I'm the last guy, and that responsibility feels overwhelming. I hate being helpless and weak, and I hate Jake for that as much as I hate him for murdering our friends. I miss my friends."

  He takes my hand, removing it from his shoulder but not letting go.

  "Hey, protecting us isn't your job. If something happens to any of us, it won't be your fault. Just like it's not your fault that Sonny and Isaac are dead. You can't put that on yourself, Chace. No wonder you look like you're going to have a mental breakdown."

  His eyebrows knit together. "I do?"

  "Yeah, kind of. Don't get me wrong, you still look cute, but--"

  "Wait," he interrupts. "Cute? Puppies are cute, babe."

  With a laugh, I shake my head. "Sorry. Handsome, then. Is that better?"

  He turns up his nose and wrinkles it. "My grandmother calls me handsome. You can go with smokin' hot."

  "Oh, I bet I can," I tease. "Anyway, my point is, focus on helping the police do their job. Like, no sneaking out, and support them if they think using me as bait will catch him."

  "That's a big ask, Lylah. Shoving you under the nose of a murderer is too dangerous."

  "Maybe, but you know it's the best chance of catching him...even if you won't admit it."

  He pulls me into his arm and buries his face in my neck. He knows I'm right.

  "I can't lose you," he whispers.

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  And I'm not. Jake won't hurt me. I'm tired of being scared and feeling weak. I'm ready to face him.

  I'm ready to fight.

  23

  Tuesday

  February 13

  I'm meeting Jake in five hours.

  I've gone over the plan a million times in my head and Detective Lina and her colleagues have run through the events. The police got ahold of the floor plans for the building.

  Limbo was a popular club when it was open, and I've been dozens of times before, so I know where the exits and bathrooms are. Lina and her team have formulated a plan in which I'll go in through the back fire exit door. It's closest to the bar, so it should put a physical barrier between Jake and me.

  That's hoping the building hasn't been gutted or ransacked.

  Detective Lina would have preferred more time--she wanted to check out the space first--but there is no time, and Jake is probably watching. They have plans of the building from the last renovation. But we don't know what's in there right now.

  Sienna and Charlotte were against the idea of me meeting Jake too, but after Detective Lina explained that the police would be right there, they backed down a little. Sienna volunteered to go with me and claw Jake's eyes out, but
I have to go alone. Jake has to think I'm following his rules.

  The police will have cameras and will be hiding, waiting to take out Jake should he pose a threat to me before he's arrested.

  This can work. This will work. It has to.

  I'm sitting at the coffee shop by myself--sort of. I have two cops sitting at the table behind me. The house was suffocating, and I needed the only other place besides home that offers me comfort. The police kept reviewing the plan for tonight. Chace, Sienna, and Charlotte were hovering, repeatedly asking if I was sure I wanted to go through with it.

  I had to get out, even for just an hour. The coffee house is closing in fifteen minutes, so I'll have to go home soon.

  With one hand, I rub my necklace, and with the other, I take a sip of my lukewarm latte. Different outcomes of meeting Jake spin in my mind. Things could go horribly wrong, and I could be killed. Jake might not want to talk. He might take one look at me and shoot me in the head. But I have to believe that he wants more than that. Surely he wants to explain or gloat about what he's done.

  "Lylah?"

  The deep voice makes me jump. "God, Zak, you scared me!"

  Chuckling, he sits down. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

  The cops watch us intently, but they know Zak.

  "I thought you would have gone home by now."

  He shakes his head. "Sarah's back with friends. Dad and I won't leave yet. We can't. Not until Jake has been stopped."

  "You're not responsible for his actions. No one would blame you for wanting to get back to your life."

  "No. I can't leave knowing you and your friends are at risk because of my brother." He puts his hands on the table and leans back into the chair. "I want to be here. If he shows his face, I want to be close. If only he would answer his phone to talk to me. I'm sure I could persuade him to turn himself in."

  "Do you really think he would listen to you?"

  Zak takes a deep breath full of uncertainty. "Well, I used to think he'd listen to me. When we were younger, he followed me around everywhere, hanging on my every word. Now I have no idea who he even is. The things he's done... He's not the person I thought he was. This Jake isn't my brother."

  "I'm so sorry, Zak. I don't know what I would do if I was in your position."

  "I hate it. I hate him. He's ruined our lives. Everyone looks at us like we're holding the fucking knife alongside Jake. My dad hardly leaves his hotel room because he can't face the persecution. The media are practically camped outside, wanting statements and interviews, and people on the streets hurl abuse about how he failed as a father."