Shiver

by Suzanne Wright

  One by one, he told me about his ‘parishioners.’ Each time he finished a devastatingly sad and sickening story, I tensed, bracing myself to hear a name I recognized. When there were only two left to go, I should have been relieved that they’d all so far been strangers to me. It was likely that Ricky had simply been fucking with my head—something that was clearly a hobby of his. But I was wound tighter than a drum, because it was still possible—

  “At the back is Liza Montgomery.”

  My pulse spiked at the name.

  Reed lifted a brow. “I believe you know her story. I was sitting in my car, talking to Ricky on the phone, when she approached you that day in the parking lot. I overheard the conversation and made a point of finding out who she was. A quick Google search unearthed quite a bit of information. She told me the rest while spread out on my altar. She was cruel to the core, Kensey. They all were.”

  They were also all women. Women who had abused children in one way or another. And bile rose in my throat at the thought of what those children had been through. Mouth dry as a bone, I asked, “And what did you do to them?”

  He stepped toward me but halted when I jerked back. His mouth tightened, but he went on, “Until someone experiences something for themselves, they can’t really know what it’s like. Unless they know how it feels, they can’t truly be sorry. I made sure they knew how their victims felt. Made sure they knew what it was like to be helpless, terrified, overpowered, and assaulted. They begged for it to end, because they couldn’t take the pain they’d dished out so many times to others.” He breathed deeply. “Michael was my inspiration. Me and Ricky were both part of the Nexus, you know.”

  I fisted my damp shirt as if it would anchor me. The Nexus was a Satanic cult that worshipped Michael.

  “They said they believed in him and his cause, but they didn’t, Kensey. Not really. Because when it came time to continue his work, none of them would step up. Oh, they’d perform their rituals, pray to Satan, and worship at the altar they’d dedicated to Michael. They even planned to go on killing sprees, but they never did it. Not even once.”

  Thank fuck for that.

  “Me and Ricky were the only ones who really believed in furthering Michael’s work. But Ricky, no, he doesn’t have that killer instinct. Can’t stomach seeing a knife slice through flesh. I started this venture alone after we left the Nexus but, well, it got hard not having anyone to share it with. I knew Ricky would understand. Can you, Kensey?”

  I closed my eyes. It was so hard to look at Reed right then. Hard to face that this person I’d worked alongside and considered a friend had done such terrible things. How hadn’t I seen it? I’d never felt entirely comfortable around him; never felt able to trust or confide in him. But I’d never imagined him to be a killer.

  Reed sighed. “I see you’re having trouble dealing with this. Don’t fear me, Kensey. I’ve watched over you for years.”

  Meeting eyes that now seemed strangely tormented, as if my fear truly would bother him, I said, “You broke into my apartment.” And it had no doubt been a breeze for him, since he’d helped his cousin install my alarm system. He’d known what model it was and where all the sensors were.

  “So that you’d know I was close and that I’d protect you. You were so stressed out by this fucking idiot writing that story, and it made you paranoid.” He tossed Ricky a withering look, but Ricky didn’t appear chastened; he glowered. Reed ignored him. “I needed you to know that someone was close, you were safe, and that you didn’t need to be so worried.”

  How could he not see that it had had the opposite effect?

  His expression darkened as he added, “Running into Blake’s arms was a mistake. He’s not good for you, Kensey. People like me and Blake and Ricky, people who like to cause pain … we’ll never be normal. We’ll never get to lead normal lives. Don’t you want a bit of ‘normal,’ Kensey? Cade would be better for you. Not assholes like Gage—fuck, Kensey, what were you thinking when you dated that guy? I couldn’t believe it when I followed him to that bar and found him all over that redhead who’s got a hard-on for Blake.”

  One thing I didn’t want right then was Reed to be pissed off, and that obviously meant moving him off the subject of Blake. “I saw your altar and candles. I didn’t know you were religious.”

  Reed snorted. “Religion is a fucking joke. My mother used to go to a church like this every Sunday and pray and sing hymns and light candles. Then she’d take me home and—” He inhaled sharply, looking vulnerable all of a sudden.

  “What did she do to you, Reed?”

  His eyes hardened. “Nothing I didn’t do to her with the strap-on she liked to wear so much. Either my dad didn’t know or didn’t care what she did—he was too busy playing with the dead. She was my first kill.” His eyes settled on the body at the end of my pew and I realized that, oh God, it was his mother. “Can you tell me she didn’t deserve what she got, Kensey?”

  “I believe in an eye for an eye.” It didn’t really answer his question, but he seemed pleased.

  “I knew I could make you understand. I mean, you love Michael, despite what he did. You know things aren’t black and white.”

  Ricky made a sound of utter derision. “She’ll say anything to make you free her. You can’t honestly mean to let her go!”

  Reed glared at him. “Are you going to kill her?” He sneered when Ricky didn’t answer. “No, I didn’t think so. You’re only good for helping me snatch the women and set up the altar. You won’t do the real work yourself.”

  I looked at Ricky. “You were the one who held me at knifepoint, weren’t you?”

  Ricky flushed, embarrassed. For me, that night had been frightening. For him, it had been a failure at being what he wanted to be.

  “Did you stab Linton too?”

  “He was watching you, and that wasn’t good for me and Reed,” said Ricky. “It meant he could see something he wasn’t supposed to see.”

  Like Ricky ramming his truck into my car.

  “You were supposed to kill him,” Reed reprimanded. “Ricky paid for scarring you, by the way, Kensey.” Reed tossed him yet another hostile look, but Ricky still didn’t cower. In fact, he looked even angrier than before.

  As for Reed … he looked his normal, usual self. He didn’t look crazy. Didn’t act crazy. And that somehow made this whole thing scarier. Sure, there was nothing ‘sane’ about his actions, but they were entirely logical to him. He believed in what he was doing. I doubted that there was a single thing that anyone could say to him that would make him question his actions.

  “I wasn’t ready back then, but I am now,” Ricky insisted, clenching his fists. “You said it yourself, Reed, it’s about time I popped my cherry. What better person to start that with than her?”

  Reed did a slow blink. “Did you not hear anything I said? She’s special to Michael. Hurting her would hurt him.”

  “And he doesn’t deserve just a little pain for snubbing and rejecting me?” Ricky demanded, spittle flying everywhere. “She knows what it’s like. Her dad didn’t acknowledge her either. She knows how it feels; she should have been a little fucking sympathetic to what I was going through! But no!”

  “Get a damn grip, Ricky, I’m not spending hours calming your ass down again.”

  “You can’t really mean to let her go! She’ll go to the cops the first chance she gets! And if she doesn’t do it, her boyfriend will. Then it’ll all be over. Reed, man, I know you don’t want to disappoint my dad. But he’ll thank us for killing her in the long-run, when he’s thinking straight again.”

  “I won’t kill her.” Reed rubbed a fist over his mouth, frowning thoughtfully. Then his eyes lit up. “I’ll keep her instead. My basement … yeah, she can stay there. There’s plenty of room. Hell, I think my old bed is still down there. And people like Blake can’t get to her then. She’ll be safer.”

  Oh, the fuck, no. No. I’d be damned if I’d be anyone’s captive.

  Ricky gaped at him. �
��Man, why do you give a rat’s ass if she’s safe?” Then his mouth formed an ‘O’ shape and he burst out laughing. “You want her, don’t you?” Again, he laughed. “She’ll never want you back, Reed.”

  Cheeks reddening, Reed landed a hard slap on Ricky’s face that echoed throughout the church like a clap of thunder. The laughter cut off. Reed jabbed a finger in his face. “I told you, I don’t like anyone laughing at me.”

  As they proceeded to argue, my eyes darted to the thick wooden doors. I wondered if just maybe I could run outside while they were busy having a standoff. Reed had said he didn’t want to hurt me, and I believed him. But he also said that he wanted me as his captive, and there was just no fucking way I’d let that happen.

  On a good day, it would be easy to outrun Reed. He wasn’t exactly fit. But although my legs weren’t quite so shaky now, my body still pulsed with pain. And I’d seen Ricky run in the parking garage two years ago—the little shit was fast.

  No, I had to be practical. Fleeing wasn’t practical. Not yet, especially since it would also spur them into uniting to work as a team to catch me. Right now, they were at loggerheads, and that was better for me. It made more sense to stay still until an opportunity to run came my way. In the meantime, I’d allow them to think I was totally defenseless. The truth was … I wasn’t.

  Still clutching my pendant, I flicked the hidden clasp at the top of it to separate it from the chain. Busy posturing and arguing with each other, they didn’t notice as I spread the thick angel wings open wide … exposing the partially blocked wing that was actually a concealed blade. Slightly curved, it was no longer than a paperclip, but it was razor sharp.

  Firmly gripping the blunt wing—which was actually the handle—I put my fist beside my thigh and slid the bladed wing beneath it.

  “If she accepted and loved my dad like you say she does, she’d see him a fuck of a lot more than twice a year,” said Ricky.

  Reed snorted. “Well of course she doesn’t go see him more than that. How would it look to others if she did? You’ve never cared about fitting in and not attracting attention. The rest of us do.”

  “I’m telling you, Reed, she doesn’t understand him or you. Look at her. Look into her eyes. Do you really see acceptance there? I don’t. I see nothing. Like she’s doing her best to hide what’s going on in her head.”

  Reed didn’t speak. Just stood there, face flushed. He flicked me a quick look and then sighed. “I’m going to find something I can use to splint her wrist with.”

  That was the Reed I knew. When he didn’t like what he heard, he put his mind to a task. That worried me, because it meant that Ricky’s words were making him question his own judgement.

  “Watch her, but don’t touch her,” Reed warned him. He cast me a brief glance and then disappeared behind the altar.

  There was the sound of a door clicking shut, and then Ricky turned to me with a smirk. “He wants to take you home with him, Kensey,” Ricky taunted, walking toward me. “Wants to keep you for himself. He says it’s to protect you and so he doesn’t have to kill you. But you know it’s more than that. You know what he’ll do to you.” Reaching me, Ricky leaned forward and drew a line along my neck with his finger as he added, “Just like you know you’d never put out for him unless he held a knife to your throat. He’d do that. He would. It wouldn’t matter to him if you died while he raped you. No, Reed likes to fuck the dead more than he likes to fuck the living.”

  The blood drained from my face. Sickened to the core, I almost gagged.

  Ricky laughed. “You should see your face, Kensey. You should—”

  I rammed the blade into his trachea. I wasn’t going to lie, it was hard and turned my stomach but … “Rather you than me, Ricky.” I twisted the blade so the wound wouldn’t close and then yanked it out. He staggered backward, trying to take jerky, panicked breaths. Then I bolted.

  Shoving open the wooden door, I sprinted down a set of stone steps and right onto a paved driveway. My heart leaped as I saw Reed’s car. I yanked on the handle. Locked. Well, that was what came of living in a shitty neighborhood—you never left anything unlocked.

  I dashed to Ricky’s truck and pulled on the handle. The door flew open. No keys. I punched the seat. Goddammit.

  Turning toward the tall gates at the end of the drive, my heart sank at the sight of the bulky padlock. Thrusting a hand into my hair, I twirled. There was nowhere to go except for the shabby cemetery. And when I heard Reed’s curses echoing inside the church, I knew I had no other option. I took off.

  With adrenaline pumping through me, I ran through the rusted iron archway and through the overgrown grass on shaky legs, ignoring the compulsion to look back. The rain had stopped, and weak shafts of sunlight broke through the occasional break in the dark clouds. There were no scents of rot out there. Just wet stone and damp earth. I would have greedily inhaled it if my entire being wasn’t so focused on simply fleeing.

  Beneath the sounds of birds chirping and tree branches creaking, I could hear boots pounding down the stone steps.

  “Kensey!” roared Reed.

  Fuck. I put on a burst of speed. Even though my muscles ached and it felt like my brain was bouncing in my skull, I didn’t stop. Just ran aimlessly, no destination in mind, through a maze of crumbling statues and discolored headstones.

  Although I was faster than Reed, he could still catch me. After all, I wasn’t exactly in tip-top shape. And I was betting that Ricky wouldn’t be far behind him. Oh, the guy would be having some trouble breathing without pain, sure, but I doubted that one single stab wound to his trachea would have killed him.

  I tried putting on another burst of speed, but it was hard while the grass was so thick and lush. Also, my wet jeans seemed to weigh me down, rubbing at my skin like sandpaper. Still, I kept going. There had to be another gate somewhere, right?

  My pace faltered slightly as a cramp began to prick my side. Shit. My throat burned with every frantic breath, and I was hoping to the high heavens that I didn’t go into a fit of coughing.

  Questions rattled around my brain …

  Were they far away?

  Had I left a trail?

  Could they hear me?

  Surely there had to be another goddamn gate, didn’t there?

  It wouldn’t—

  I tripped over something and tumbled onto my hands and knees. Agony rocketed through my broken wrist. Black spots dotted my vision. For a few seconds, I stayed there, heaving air into my lungs. My sore body didn’t want to get up, but I didn’t have time to rest or recoup, I needed to move.

  Get up, I told myself. Get fucking up.

  Realizing I’d dropped my blade, I glanced around, but it was lost in the high grass. Silently cursing, I blew away the stray strands of hair from my face and grabbed a nearby crumbling headstone as I got to my feet. Still breathing hard, I pushed on.

  Ignoring its protests, I forced my body back into a run and skirted through the trees toward the rear of the wrought iron fence. Branches and wild shrubbery occasionally snagged my T-shirt or abraded the skin of my face and arms.

  Honestly, I was surprised that neither Ricky nor Reed had caught up with me yet. My pace was slowing, and the aches in my body were becoming too much. My lungs now burned just as badly as my throat, and the cramp in my side panged with every step. My muscles seemed heavy and jelly-like; it felt more like I was wading through sludge than running—

  I tripped over some bracken and fell to my hands and knees again. Motherfucker. Pain once more ripped through my wrist. Eyes tearing up, I choked on the agonized moan that built in my chest.

  “Kensey!” Reed.

  I tensed. He was close, but not too close.

  “There’s no point in running, Kensey! We’ll find you! There’s only one way in and out of this cemetery, and you’re nowhere near it! Just stay still; we’ll come find you!”

  Gritting my teeth against the agony searing through my wrist, I scrambled backward on my butt until I hit a tree. Us
ing the thick oak for support, I slowly stood upright, chest still heaving.

  As I struggled to control my breathing, I listened hard for sounds of Reed and Ricky. But all I could hear was the wind whistling through the high grass and making the tree branches groan. Then again, it was difficult to hear anything while my heart thumped so hard in my chest that it was like a drumbeat in my ears.

  I pressed down on my breastbone with the heel of my good hand as I took deep, shuddering breaths. The faint sheen of sweat on my forehead was dripping down my temples, making the slash there sting. I was just thankful that the damn thing wasn’t dripping blood like a tap.

  Grass rustling.

  Covering my mouth with my hand to muffle my rasping breaths, I held myself very still. The sounds had come from behind me, and I couldn’t tell if it was one person or two. My lips and chin trembled. No, I wasn’t going to die here. Not here. Not like this.

  There was a horrible sound. Like someone struggling to breathe through a Darth Vada mask or something. Ricky. And he was coming closer. And closer. And closer.

  Soon, he was sidling up to my tree. He wasn’t moving fast enough for me to slide out my foot and trip him up as he past, but … I slowly and quietly lifted my arm, getting into position. He took another step forward and, before he had the chance to spot me in his peripheral vision, I rammed my elbow into his throat.

  Eyes bulging, he slapped his hand to his neck, making a horrid choking noise. I backed away, ready to turn and run. My heel caught on something and I landed awkwardly on my back and elbows. Then Ricky was on me, wrapping his hands around my throat and squeezing hard.

  Fighting the instinct to claw at his hands, I dug my fingers through a wad of blood-stained tissue right into his wounded trachea. One of his hands automatically flew to his neck while the other loosened its hold on me. That was all I needed. I surged up and slammed my forehead into his nose. Crack. Blood sprayed out of his nostrils. I scrabbled backward to get away, but fingers snapped tight around my ankle.