by Dori Lavelle
Twin brother? The two words knock the wind from my lungs. I look at each of them in turn. Even though Damien’s face is white as a sheet, compared to the man with the gun, they are completely identical, carbon copies. The same eyes, same facial structure, same lips, same everything.
Saliva floods my mouth, bitter bile hitting the back of my throat. “Judson?”
“That’s right, ma chérie. This is the real me. We look so much alike that it’s hard to tell we’re fraternal not identical twins. So, did you miss me?” He doesn’t wait for my response but gazes at Damien, who has managed to get to his feet, a hand holding his bleeding arm, blood slipping through his fingers.
“How about you, brother? Did you miss me?” Judson asks oblivious to Damien’s pain. “No, you were too busy fucking my girl, weren’t you?” A sick grin forms on his face. He turns the gun on Damien. “I have to admit I underestimated you. I fucked your wife so you fuck my girl. A pussy for a pussy. Was that your plan? Well, guess what? I didn’t go after Kristi, she came to me. You didn’t give her what she needed and I could. She opened up her pussy and I did the right thing. I filled it. She was unhappy with you. That’s why she snuffed out her own life. Guess what, none of that was my fault.”
“You bastard.” Damien lunges for Judson, who slams him over the head with the handgun. Damien falls back to the floor.
“You don’t have it in you to fight me. You know I won’t think twice about shooting you if I have to. I’ve killed before. I can do it again. And you know what, I’ll get away with it.”
Judson pins me with his gaze, gun still aimed at Damien, who’s writhing on the floor. “Now that everyone is calm, let me tell you what I have in mind. First, we’re going to have some fun. You two will show me what I’ve been missing. Then I plan on killing you both for betraying me. Who knows, maybe I’ll even be kind in the end. I might let you share the same grave so you can rot together forever.”
58
If someone had told me I’m dead, I’d believe them. My head is blank, my senses frozen, my body numb.
The argument between Judson and Damien slips through the roar in my ears, but I’m unable to catch every word.
Twins. The word sinks into my brain, sending a shiver down my spine. How is it possible? How could I not have known?
A cold hard object revives my sense of feeling. Judson, who has now put on a pair of jeans, is holding the gun to my head.
“Don’t you fucking hurt her.” Damien reacts by ignoring his own pain and launching himself yet again at his brother. He connects with Judson’s elbow instead and goes right back down with a loud grunt. I have a go at saving myself by dashing for the door. I don’t get far. Judson pulls me by the hair and drops me to the floor. As the air shoots out of my lungs, I know one thing. We’re going to die. I know that there’s no way out, that I have come face-to-face with the real devil—one hell-bent on revenge.
“It’s time for us to have a little fun.” Judson nudges Damien in the ribs and waves the gun from him to me. “Basement. Now,” he barks.
Damien grunts as he gathers himself up and gets to his feet. For a moment his eyes meet mine but he looks away.
Judson yanks me to my feet by the hair, which he twists around his hand. I bite on my lip trying hard to contain the pain but I only bring on more as I taste blood. Hot tears of fear scorch my cheeks as he drags me through the corridors, Damien walking ahead of us.
By the time we reach the door to the basement, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and images, all jumbled in no particular order. I want to scream and fight for my life, but if Judson can overpower even his brother, what chance do I have against him? The only thing I can do is do my best not to piss Judson off even more.
“Open the door.” The words are for Damien but since Judson’s lips are so close to my ears, his voice assaults my eardrums.
Damien places a hand on the door handle but glances behind him first before pushing the door open. Is he checking to see if I’m all right? I avert my watery gaze and swallow hard. In spite of the fragile connection we made earlier, I can’t trust him. I’d come close to believing he regrets what he did to me, and yet he didn’t tell me about Judson. He may be the lesser of two evils, but ultimately he still has an evil core as he’s connected by blood to the devil himself.
As Damien pulls the door wide, Judson plants the flat of his hand between Damien’s shoulder blades and shoves him into the darkness. My heart jolts at the sound of Damien’s groans as he goes tumbling down the stairs.
“Your turn, darling.” Before I can prepare myself, I find myself flying and landing with a thud on the wooden steps, unable to catch my fall or breath. My screams catch inside my throat as I roll down the steps. I’m surprised when I don’t hit the solid floor at the bottom of the stairs. Damien, who still hasn’t moved, has cushioned my fall.
Pain pulses inside my body as I groan and roll off him. My hands cover my head as though I can contain the pain better that way. In truth, my head feels on the verge of splitting down the middle.
The light goes on but the dust particles floating around us make it less blinding.
“Let me help.” Damien pulls himself to a sitting position and tries to help me. I yank my arm away.
Before we can pull ourselves together, Judson is standing over us, a grin on his face and a bag hanging from his shoulder. I hadn’t noticed him carrying anything earlier.
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her.” Damien says the words between coughs.
“No one tells me what the fuck to do,” Judson shoots back. He drops the bag at his feet and surveys the basement, nodding as though satisfied to have found the perfect prison for us.
Damien shifts next to me but I don’t turn to look at him. Rubbing my sore elbow, I can’t take my eyes off Judson, who’s rooting inside his bag with one hand while the other is pointing the gun at Damien’s head. He pulls out a roll of thick rope. I begin to shake, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Do whatever the fuck you came here to do to me. Just don’t harm her.”
“Harm her?” Judson pulls a bottle of gin from his bag and unscrews the cap. “I won’t—at least not yet. I’m bored. I want to have a little fun first.” He takes a long swig then smashes the bottle against a nearby wall. Shards of glass and drops of gin collide in the air before dropping to the floor. The sharp smell of alcohol makes my eyes water.
“You keep your mouth shut, I make the rules. Got that?” Before Damien can respond, Judson gives him a kick between the shoulder blades.
The sound of a large animal in pain pours out of Damien’s mouth as Judson drags him toward two chairs stacked on top of each other while keeping the gun on me.
The thought of attacking him while he’s occupied with tying Damien to a chair crosses my mind, but before I can act on it, something steals my attention. My stomach tightens when I spot a wooden coffin. No one needs to tell me it’s the one Damien had buried me in. There’s no smear of dirt on the burnished wood. Could it be Damien had not buried me at all, that I’d been in the basement while he sat on one of the chairs listening to my agony?
Fury gnaws at my stomach lining when my gaze slides to Damien, my body recalling the torture he put me through. But at seeing his head helplessly rested on his chest and his face pale, my anger turns to ashes, leaving only pity.
Finished tying Damien up, Judson places a hand on the coffin, eyes hooded. He lets out a low whistle and glances at Damien. “One of your sex toys?” he snorts. “Glad to see you’ve finally found your kinky side. I never thought you had it in you.” He rubs the side of his face. “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or jealous.”
When Damien doesn’t react, Judson ignores him and brings his attention back to me. My eyes fixed on his, I discreetly bring my hands behind me, my fingers searching the dusty floor for a weapon. I find none.
In a heartbeat, he crosses the space between us and hauls me to my feet. A sharp scream rips through me.
�
��Shut the fuck up.” He shoves me hard toward the coffin. My stomach collides with it and I gag. His hands clamp my shoulders and he pushes me to the floor, grabbing one of my hands and tying it tightly to one of the metal coffin handles, assaulting the newly-healed incisions on my right wrist. My head is spinning and bitter bile has collected at the back of my throat.
I raise my wet eyes to his face. “Let me go . . . please.”
“It’s me you want.” Damien cuts in, his voice broken but firm. “Let her go, dammit. Let her go and torture me. Kill me if you must. I don’t . . . I don’t give a damn.”
Without warning, Judson charges toward Damien and his fist connects with Damien’s face, which snaps back like a punching ball. I let out another scream. Judson laughs out loud and stomps back to his bag and pulls out a roll of tape, which he brings back to me. Holding my head tight against his body, he shuts me up.
“That’s better.” He drops the tape onto the floor. “The only time I tolerate women screaming is when I make them come.” He rubs his jaw. “Now that it’s clear who the boss is, let’s play.”
Instead of shutting up as he wants me to, I make inaudible sounds from behind the tape while rolling my head from side to side. In a flash, his iron grip is around my neck. Sheer terror sweeps through me when on reflex I try to open my mouth to gasp for air but can’t thanks to the tape which covers my mouth. As the oxygen supply to my brain shuts off and my head threatens to explode, I thrash around, trying to shake him off. He doesn’t release his grip. He increases the pressure of his hand for a few seconds.
From somewhere in the house, the doorbell rings, or I could be hallucinating. But he must have heard it as well because as suddenly as he had attacked me, he lets go.
My spinning, aching head drops to my chest and darkness steals over me.
59
I awaken to the rotten smell of his breath on my face. It reeks of alcohol, revenge and evil. My stomach curdles. I turn my pounding head away from him and find Damien watching me, his eyes blank. A lot must have happened since I fainted because his mouth is now taped shut and the wound on his upper arm is bandaged. It must not be in Judson’s immediate plans to let his brother bleed to death, not before he exacts whatever revenge plans he has in store for us. Before his wound was treated, Damien must have bled quite a bit as there are drops of blood under his chair, next to his pale bare feet.
I’m also no longer sitting on the floor but on the chair next to Damien, my hands and ankles bound and tied to the chair. For the first time, I inspect the basement. Apart from dust, cobwebs and broken furniture, there are several stacked boxes underneath the staircase. And then there’s the coffin.
Judson’s hand clamps around my chin. He forces me to face him. “Hello, sunshine. Welcome back to hell.”
I try to jerk my chin out of his hands. His fingers tighten around me to the point I fear he might snap my jaw. The pain from my jaw merges with the agony already in my head, neck, and throat.
Relying on my physical strength is useless. Fury burns my eyes as our eyes lock. I notice another physical difference between Judson and Damien. While there are faint golden specks in Damien’s emerald eyes, Judson’s are clear but a shade darker. My eyes lower to the wrist of the hand holding my chin. No tattoo. I can’t help wondering if the tattoo on Damien’s wrist was a way for him to separate himself from his brother.
“You delayed my plans.” Judson releases my chin and leans against the coffin, folding his arms across his chest. “That was a naughty thing to do. But I’m willing to give you another chance. From now on you must behave or else you’ll not like the deadly consequences I have in mind. I promise it will include a whole lot of pain and blood.”
The feet of Damien’s chair knock against the floor as he tries to rebel against Judson. But unlike me, not only are his hands tied behind him, but his feet are also bound to the legs of the chair.
“No need to worry, dear brother. Do as I say and I might delay the inevitable.”
My anger ripples along the length of my spine, tempting me to fight him in whatever way I can. But my eyes meet Damien’s. He’s shaking his head ever so slightly, sending me a silent message, warning me against doing anything I might regret, that could bring Judson to hurt me more than he already has.
Even though Damien is unable to fight Judson, his presence prevents me from being all alone with the devil. I can’t even imagine the things Judson would do if he had me all to himself, the torture he would inflict to both my body and soul. Without words, I hear what Damien is telling me, that he’ll get us out of this situation. Unable to speak, I blink and avert my gaze. He’s responsible for me being here.
“Before we get started, I’ll get myself something to eat.” Judson pushes away from the coffin and stretches his arms above his head with a long yawn. “We have a long couple of hours ahead of us.” He walks over to Damien and yanks the strip of tape from his mouth. “I’m sure you have some explaining to do, I’ll give you a little time to do that.” Without waiting for an answer from Damien or removing my tape, he strides away from us and climbs up the stairs. The door at the top of the stairs slams shut and the key turns.
I’m relieved about Judson’s departure. I hope in his absence Damien will figure out a way to get us out of this basement and house. If only I could ask him who had rang the bell moments before I’d passed out. But why does it matter? Since Judson is confident in his plans, he might have refused to open the door, which means we’re doomed.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Damien’s voice is hoarse and low. “I wanted to tell you about him. I just couldn’t get myself to.” His face flushes deep crimson and sweat breaks through his forehead. “I didn’t want to give you more reasons to hate me than you already did.”
Tears fill my eyes as I shake my head from side to side, frustrated with being unable to speak, that I cannot voice my anger, that I cannot plead with him to make things right by getting us out of here, to get me out of here.
“I told you he’s dead, which is the truth. After he slept . . . with my wife, he was dead to me.” His face twists in anger. “I’m disgusted with myself for pretending to be him and doing things he would do. I wasn’t thinking straight. The only way I felt I could keep you, was by turning into him. He was the one you fell in love with, not me.”
I shake my head from side to side. His apologies and regrets don’t mean a thing to me right now. I just want to get as far away from his brother as possible, away from both of them. A tear slides down my cheek.
“Hey, you don’t have to be afraid.” He glances at the stairs and back at me. “I’ll get us out of here. I’d die before letting him kill you.” He draws in a ragged breath. “Until I come up with a plan, please do what he asks. Don’t try to fight him. He’s ruthless. I’ll make things right again. I promise.”
I want to believe him more than anything, but how can I? Right now, Damien is not the man I used to know. He’s weakened by his injuries and afraid of Judson himself, even though he doesn’t put it into words. I can hear it in the shattered tone of his voice that fails to rise above a whisper. As he talks, he struggles to free himself but fails.
The sound of the key inside the lock halts our one-sided conversation. The door crashes open and Judson’s looming figure appears in the doorway at the top of the stairs. “Time to begin. I hope you’re ready.”
60
Judson descends the stairs, carrying another wooden chair in one hand, and a bag of potato chips in the other. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He leans the chair against the opposite wall and sits, placing the bag of chips on his lap. As though he remembers something, he stands up again and picks up the roll of tape from the floor.
“Time's up. I hope you’ve said everything you need to say.” He approaches Damien.
“Fuck you. You won’t get away with this. I promise you that.” Damien turns his head from side to side, making it hard for Judson to tape his mouth shut again. But he’s overpowered.
Judson m
anages to tape Damien’s mouth shut before he can say another word. “I hate to break this to you, but you're not in any position to make promises.” He returns to his chair and picks up his potato chips. “From now on, the only person allowed to do any talking inside this place is me.”
I force my body to stop trembling. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction he craves so much, to see me in pain, to see how much power he has over me.
“Let’s play catch up, shall we?” His eyes still on us, he rips open the bag of chips. The aroma of cheese and onion released into the air, makes me want to puke. “Ivy, my love, in case you’re still wondering, I did it.” He chews for a few seconds. “I killed that Oliver Banes because he fucked with my plans. And you were so naïve to think I was innocent, weren’t you? If you’d stayed long enough, you’d have read of my guilty verdict in the papers. But to hell with the law. A life behind bars is not for me. I had to get out of there, and I did.” He turns to Damien. “You actually thought my housekeeper wouldn’t tell me what you were up to? I guess you didn’t pay her enough to keep her mouth shut. She told me everything. I knew you were reading my letters before she brought them to me, and responding to several behind my back. I even knew Ivy wasn’t dead as you made everyone believe. You were too blind to see my guy following you around. I could have called the cops on you, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make you suffer. This is the kind of dirty work I prefer to do myself.” He clears his throat. “Once I discovered your dirty little secret, it wasn’t hard to figure out where you are. San Maureo, the town you ran off to with Kristi for that new start that never happened. This house you built for her holds a special place in your heart, doesn’t it?” His lips curl into a smile. “I don’t blame you for returning here. It’s a cozy little town, the perfect place to raise a family. I bet you were trying to replace Kristi with Ivy. You’ve always had a thing for redheads.”
