Travis’s mouth thinned into a line. “Just call him, tell him to meet us on the trail. Trust me, Ash.”
After all this, I knew better than to question Travis. He’d helped me with Ray, so I owed it to him to trust him. Plus, you know, I loved the twisted fuck, even if he could be a little over the top sometimes.
Like right now, for example.
So I called Will, told him to come back and meet us on the trail. It sounded as if Sawyer didn’t want Will there anyway, so it all seemed fine and dandy, at least when I hung up the phone. Then we started walking, my mind running through all of the possibilities.
This didn’t feel right.
Travis led us back, cutting through the woods, a straighter shot back to the cabin. We had to walk through our neighbor’s yard, but that was fine. Didn’t look like they were home right now anyway. Or maybe it was another rental and it was empty tonight.
Well, needless to say when we arrived at the cabin, I found out the truth.
Declan, Travis and I stopped as we watched Sawyer come stumbling out, tripping and falling down the stairs, coughing and wheezing, generally looking like shit. He held a hand to his neck, and I ran to his side, helping him up. Tough, considering how much he weighed.
“What…” I stopped when I saw his eyes. His pupils were a bit too dilated.
“I didn’t,” Sawyer coughed out. “It was Will. I didn’t do this.”
Next to Travis, Declan paled. “What are you talking about? Will did what? Sawyer, what happened?”
My gaze moved to the dark, bottomless blue pits that sat on Travis’s face. Eyes that hid so much, eyes that could be both warm and kind and cold and cruel. A calm stare. A stare that told me he’d known something was going on.
And it was as I stared at Travis, as I helped Sawyer stand, that I said, “Declan, take Sawyer to the hospital.”
“What?” Declan repeated. “No, I—”
“Please,” I begged.
I was not a beggar, and Declan knew this. His confusion turned into acceptance, and he nodded once. He hurried up the steps to grab the keys, emerging from the cabin shortly after. As Declan got into the car and started her up, Travis and I helped Sawyer.
Sawyer’s jaw was tight, bags under his eyes. “Don’t confront him. He’ll try to kill you. He almost fucking killed me.”
It was a good thing Declan was in the car, and Sawyer wasn’t quite yet, otherwise Declan would’ve heard that, and then he would’ve wanted to stay.
It was also a good thing I had experience confronting psychotic exes.
“Don’t worry about me,” I told Sawyer, opening the car door for him. “Go where it’s safe.” As Travis helped Sawyer in, I went around to the driver’s side, to Declan. He rolled his window down, allowing me to lean in. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum, and acting like everything was fine when it was falling apart was one of the most difficult things I’d ever had to do. “I’ll call you in a bit,” I told him, giving him a smile I hoped he believed.
Declan nodded, and I stepped away from the car, watching them drive off.
Just me and Travis now.
“What am I going to find in that cabin?” I asked Travis, since it seemed like he knew everything there was to know about this, about what was going on.
Travis said nothing, only heading up the steps, and I followed him.
The cabin was…almost exactly as we left it, only there was a disturbance in the kitchen. A chair was pulled back from the table, a note and a pen sitting on top of the table. A rope sat coiled on the floor, and I cautiously brought myself to it, kneeling beside it, studying the noose at the end of it.
Suddenly everything Sawyer had said clicked into place.
Suddenly it was all clear, and I felt sick.
Suddenly I knew that the saga of Sabrina Salvatore wasn’t over quite yet.
I stood, leaving the noose on the floor. “He’ll come back here when he doesn’t find us on the trail,” I said, glancing at Travis. “I need to talk to him.” I knew Travis would argue with me, knew he’d want to be here with me as I confronted him, so I walked with a purpose to the kitchen, opened the drawer I knew the silverware and other utensils were, and pulled out the sharpest, shiniest knife I could find.
The stainless steel glimmered in the darkness, and for a moment, I was thrown back in time. Back to the day when Ray had me in that basement. Back to the day when his hand curled around mine and had forced me to stab that helpless girl. To when I, in turn, stabbed him. And then that day in that house, when I’d threatened to kill myself.
I set the knife down on the table, near the note, and then I sat down, meeting Travis’s eyes. He knew I was serious, knew I wouldn’t argue with him about this. I needed to talk to Will, and he needed to believe that he and I were alone here. Travis went to hide in the nearest bedroom, and I waited.
Time had never crawled by so slowly.
And so here I was, waiting for Will. Waiting for him to come back and explain himself. Confronting a killer was never smart, but I owed it to him, to us. To hear him out. If there was any trace of something salvageable in him, or if…if it had to end today.
He’d tried to kill Sawyer. That was something he couldn’t come back from.
The worst part was, Sawyer wasn’t the only one. Will’s kill count was high, but I had to hear it. Had to hear him say it. He’d killed his father, framed him. He’d so easily reviled another man for his own crimes, and it made me wonder if his mother had killed herself, or if, maybe, he’d done that, too.
Will, as it turned out, was the worst monster of them all. Ironic, considering how normal I’d thought he was. How instant our connection was. How he instantaneously cared for me, both lusting after me and pushing me away because he knew Declan wanted me.
This was a reckoning. After today, nothing would ever be the same.
I didn’t know how long it was until Will came back. Until I saw him open the front door and step in, surveying the area. Eventually he landed his gaze on me, and the knife near my hand on the table. His hazel stare looked almost black in the darkness, and it took everything in me to stay seated and act calm. To say, “Hello, Will” like nothing at all was wrong.
So much was wrong here. So fucking much, it was hard to see through the bullshit.
Will swallowed, immediately looking caught, guilty, a fish hooked on a line he knew he should’ve avoided. He took a step toward me, giving me a nervous smile as he sought to act normal, “Ash. What’s going on?” His feet kicked at the rope on the floor between us, and he spoke, “What’s this?”
“Why don’t you tell me what it is?” I suggested, tilting my head slowly as I watched his expression change, as I watched the realization dawn on his face.
He knew I knew, and yet he still acted oblivious. He still lied.
“No, instead of telling me what that is, why don’t you tell me something else,” I said, getting to my feet. As I stood, my fingers curled around the knife, and I held it at my side, well aware Will’s eyes were on me and not the stainless steel. He didn’t think I’d hurt him. He was a fool. “Now that I’m thinking about it, it was a little weird for Dean Briggs to have Sabrina’s journal in his office. For a whole year. Why would he keep it there?”
Will’s brows came together, and he tried to talk, “I don’t—”
I didn’t let him continue. “Why would he hang Sabrina after forcing her to write a note that blamed himself? Why, Will? Why would he do something like that?” My teeth grinded as I stared at him, revulsion rising in my gut. “Because it wasn’t him, that’s why.”
All Will could do was let out a sigh.
“It was easier for all of us to blame the dead guy,” I went on. “But then Corey, now Sawyer. Who’s next, Will? You going to go after Travis next? Or are you going to get tired of me and decide to hang me, too?”
Will’s hazel stare closed, and he whispered, “It’s not like that. I would never hurt you.”
“I don’t believe you,” I stated. I knew Trav
is wouldn’t hurt me, but that’s because now his psychosis, his obsession was out in the open. He had nothing to hide from me, besides this suspicion he had that Will had been keeping his own secrets. Will had kept so much from me, this entire fucking time, and now that his day of reckoning had come, he still lied to me.
It was like that. Someone who could get jealous and kill a graduate student who was only trying to help me get passing grades on my quizzes would hurt me if I kept smiling at the wrong men. Someone like that you couldn’t trust with your life, or in your bed.
“Ash—” Will tried to come to me, to close the distance between us, but I stopped him as I lifted my hand, extending my arm straight, pointing the knife right at him.
My arm might’ve shaken before. My grip might’ve been sweaty if it was the first time I’d held a knife against someone I loved, but it wasn’t. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t the me of last year, the Ashley Bonds who was frightened at the blood and the death. Today when I stared death in the face, today when I met the monster’s beautiful hazel stare, I felt not an ounce of fear.
I was resolute, dauntless and firm. My arm did not shake, my grip did not sweat. I pointed the knife at him as I would toward someone I was ready to kill.
I didn’t want to hurt him, but knowing everything he did, how could I ever trust him again?
“I only did it to protect you,” he said, gaze falling to the knife less than an inch away from his chest. He could make a move at me, try to overpower me, but I knew he wouldn’t. Just like Ray, he was at my mercy.
I somehow held power over these psychos, and by God, I was going to use it.
“And your father? Sabrina? Were they for Declan? Tell me, Will, is there anyone you wouldn’t kill for the ones you love?”
Will waited a mere second before answering honestly: “No.”
No. There was no one he would not hurt, no one he wouldn’t kill. Some girls might swoon at a man like that, and maybe I would’ve when I was younger, more foolish. If I was a different person, the kind of girl who got swept up in serial killers and their violence, swooning over the blood and gore, maybe I would’ve weakened at his answer. After all, it took some kind of man to say he’d take on the entire world for you, that no one was off-limits.
But I wasn’t one of those girls. I didn’t watch crime documentaries and dream of my own serial killer. I had one, and it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I wasn’t that kind of girl, and I would never want someone who I knew was untrustworthy.
Will would keep killing. An obsession like his with Declan, with me, with protecting us, wouldn’t go away anytime soon. This had to end now.
“You won’t stop,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Something softened in Will’s expression, like he knew this was it. The end of the road. He’d traveled down the one-way street to my heart, and now there was no way out of this. No way to turn around and redo the last six months. “I won’t,” he promised.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I told him, lowering the knife a few inches, taking a step closer to him. I didn’t want to hurt him, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t. Want and need were two very different things.
“Then don’t.”
“You tried to kill Sawyer the same way you killed Sabrina. I love him, Will.” Just like I love you, only, for whatever reason, I couldn’t say that part aloud. “Just like you, I protect the ones I love.”
“Ash, you don’t have to—” Will took a step towards me, but no other words escaped him, for I did not withdraw my arm. I held it firm. Fuck, maybe I even pushed a little. In the end, it didn’t matter, because the knife punctured his shirt and went into his upper stomach.
My mind did not flash back to that day in the cellar, to that day when I stabbed Ray and that girl. This time, my mind was solely focused on the blood pooling in the fabric facing me, and the pain written on Will’s face.
“I love you,” I said, tears welling in my eyes as we locked gazes. “But it stops here.” And then, before I could think any better of it, I pushed the knife in harder.
Maybe that made me just as bad as him. Maybe, by taking matters into my own hands, I was just as psychotic as the rest of them. Maybe I belonged with this psycho harem of broken, obsessed men. In the end, it didn’t matter, because what was done was done. I meant what I said when I said I protected the ones I loved, and right now, Will was nothing but a threat to everything I cared about.
Sabrina. Dean Briggs. Mrs. Briggs. Corey. Sawyer. Four people who died at the hands of Will, and another that almost died tonight. If this didn’t end here and now, there was no telling how high the count would go. There would be no sixteen guys to match Ray’s count of girls. I would not let any more bloodshed weigh on my shoulders.
Tonight was it. Will’s blood would be the last.
Will said nothing, staring at me with utter betrayal in his eyes. I pulled the knife back, yanking it out of his stomach, its stainless-steel edge coated in dark red. Blood dripped to the floor, more than half his shirt stained with it now. He stumbled back, tripping on the noose on the floor behind him, falling over as he reached for the wound on his stomach.
It was right then that Travis made his entrance, stepping out of the nearest bedroom and coming out of the hall. He took in the knife in my hand, along with Will’s pale, slowing form. He moved between us, his strong hand closing around mine. Travis spun me a bit, turning me away from Will, and he peeled the knife from my grip.
Travis set it on the table, and I turned my head over my shoulder, finding that Will’s form had stilled, his eyes closed. My heart caught in my throat, and the first full-fledged tear ran down my face.
Will was dead. I killed him.
Hands on my face forced me to turn to look at Travis, and I met those deep blue orbs through watery eyes. “I…” I couldn’t even speak, too choked up.
“Shh,” Travis shushed me, pulling my head into his chest. I felt his cheek lean against my head, his arms wrapping around my back, his warmth comforting in this cold, awful night. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
I tilted my head up to look at him, hardly able to see him through the tears. “How do you know that?”
Travis gave me one of his rare smiles. A quick, fleeting thing, but one that caused my gut to clench regardless. “Because I know,” he whispered, and then he brought his lips down to mine, kissing away my tears, my worries. Kissing away every terrible thing I’d done.
This was not the trip to Beacon Hills I wanted. This wasn’t what I wanted at all, and yet I felt so helpless. What other outcome was there? How else could this have changed? I couldn’t let Will go, couldn’t turn a blind eye to what he tried doing to Sawyer—and there was no way Sawyer could ever forgive him. And Declan…once he knew the truth, he wouldn’t forgive his brother, either.
There truly was no coming back from this for Will. This was always how this would end.
I let Travis kiss me long and slow, tried to tune out the world—at least, I did until I heard a door slam shut. The moment the sound entered my ears, I tore my mouth from Travis, and we both looked toward the door, but it wasn’t the door that caught my attention.
It was the lack of Will’s body near the noose on the floor that made my stomach harden and my tears dry up instantly. Nothing but a bloodstain.
Shit. He wasn’t dead.
“Stay here,” Travis muttered, heading towards the door.
Damn it. I knew it wasn’t the time to kiss anyone, not after stabbing Will. I should’ve made sure he was dead, should’ve double-checked. Double-tapped. Double-stabbed. Whatever. Now…unless Travis caught him—which he might, because how fast could a stabbed person run—he’d always be out there. Always watching. Always waiting.
Waiting to get another shot at me. To make me realize that he was the only one I needed. Him and Declan. That was what Will wanted, I knew without a doubt.
Travis left, though he wasn’t gone for long. He came back in, a grim look
on his face as he said, “He’s gone. He could’ve gone in any direction. I’ll find him, Ash. I won’t let him hurt you.” Those were words I could count on, I knew. If there was a person to take care of Will for good, it was Travis.
Hypocritical of me, considering what I told Will, what I did to Will for what he did to Sawyer, but at least I knew Travis wouldn’t kill Sawyer or Declan. At least Travis wanted me happy, and he knew that the others made me just that. Will wanted what I wanted, only in that he wanted me, him, and Declan together.
Travis glanced at the bloodstain on the floor. “I’ll also have this cleaned up. You should call Declan, tell him what happened. I’m sure Sawyer already told him enough. He’ll need to hear your voice right now, Ash.”
I nodded. He was right. So level-headed, especially considering what was going on. If Travis wasn’t here, I had no idea what I’d do.
My gaze fell to my hands. Blood stained my fingertips. First thing’s first: needed to wash that shit off. I’d seen enough blood for an entire lifetime. Once it was done, I got my phone and dialed Declan.
This conversation was probably the most difficult one I’d ever had in my life.
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Declan
Ash called while I was with Sawyer. I didn’t know what hospital to take him to, so I ended up driving to the one near Hillcrest, the same hospital Ash and my brother had ended up in. The same one that had treated me.
It didn’t matter, though. Ash’s call didn’t matter, because by the time her name showed up on my caller-ID, Sawyer had told me everything.
I didn’t want to believe him. He sounded out of it, sweat on his body and his pupils too large. I didn’t want to trust a single word that came from his mouth, and yet…what reason would he have to lie? These past few months, Sawyer had been trying. No more partying, no more girls. Only us and Ash.
He even told me about the pills that had been left outside his door before his first date with Ash.
So, yeah. When Ash called, when she told me what happened, I thought I was prepared to hear the story again from her voice, but then she told me what happened in the cabin after Sawyer and I left. Then my heart broke.
Liar: A Dark College Romance (Hillcrest University Book 6) Page 23
