I cannot for the life of me make sense of what is happening right now. I’ve always known that the Waters family has “connections” and are not to be crossed. But Mary Waters? She’s always been a bitch, but I never pictured her involved in something like this.
She turns to me, taking off her camel cashmere shawl, and sits on the sofa across from me as if we are at a family gathering. Family gatherings like the many we have spent here, in this house, with my family, and hers.
She crosses her legs, and leans back casually. “The only reason you are alive right now is because I need you to do something for me first.” She gives me a disgusted smirk. “No one is going to save you this time, Camryn. Not Holden, not your dad, not even the sheriff you have following you. Did you know they were called away to an emergency moments ago?” She looks down at her watch. “Huh? Looks like we don’t have much time.” She motions to Pock Face to go across the room from where we are sitting, and gets up and follows him over to the sliding glass doors, where they begin talking in quiet whispers.
The strain on my shoulders and hands tightly bound behind the chair is making it hard to think straight. I am completely physically helpless right now, and the fear is almost suffocating. Sophie, Ellie, Holden…I have to focus on their faces, reminding me to do whatever it takes to get out of this situation. No matter how hopeless things can seem, I have to remember not to give up…if not for me, for them.
I can’t make sense of anything she’s said to me so far. At this moment, I am glad to have the gag in my mouth so I don’t have to respond to any of her crazy comments and can just listen and try to make sense of what is happening and figure out how the hell I’m going to get out of this. I knew writing the article could cause some negative reaction, but I thought from Jake, not Mary? This seems so out of character for someone with such prestige as Mary Waters. Mary was never one I would describe as kind or friendly. In public, she plastered a forced smile that never matched her eyes. No, her eyes held a coldness to them that always made me feel uncomfortable. But this is so extreme…so unimaginable!
Pieces of things Jake has said to me over our encounters start to come together. He said he didn’t want to do what he did to me. He said he was forced to do it. I remember his office was covered in pictures of him and his dad. Not one of his mom. She is fucking crazy. He ran away because she is crazy. As pieces to the puzzle begin to click into place, I start thinking of a way to stall her so I can get myself out of here. Sooner or later, Holden will worry when he doesn’t hear back from me. Even if he didn’t hear anything when I threw the phone on the couch earlier, he’ll worry that I haven’t called back. He’ll have someone here in minutes if he thinks something is wrong. I never wished for Holden to overreact more than I do right now. The room where I sit seems so closed off from the rest of the world right now. I have always thought about what I would do if there was ever an intruder in my house. I never thought I’d actually be experiencing it…I always figured I had my “horrible life moment” and the rest of my life would be free and clear of this type of nightmare. But right now, I am powerless to do anything. My freedom is mere feet away, and I am trapped, with no one having any idea of the terror happening behind closed doors. I can’t move. I can’t scream. I can do nothing but think and wait.
The two go into the back room for what seems like hours, but I am sure is only minutes. Then, Pock Face walks back around the corner, looking even more malevolent than before. His eyes narrow at the sight of me helplessly sitting here, and he begins licking his lips suggestively.
“I have you to myself while Mrs. W is taking care of your old man.” He walks behind me and yanks my ponytail harshly down. “I’m going to make you scream,” he seethes.
“What’s she doing with my dad?” I ignore his threats.
Something sharp swiftly slashes at my wrists, sending stinging shots of pain up my arms. A warm blanket of liquid drips down quickly and covers my hands, and I know I am bleeding, but my hands are also now free. I have a chance. I struggle to gain my composure, deciding on the best time to try to make a run for it. Being tied up, there was no chance for me to have a fighting chance; if she wanted me dead, there was nothing I could do about it. But now…now I can at least try to fight. The endless hours of self-defense classes I took in college actually make me feel like I have a fighting chance now. I just have to get him in a vulnerable position before Mary gets out here. And if I can only get outside, I have a chance. A chance to save Dad and me.
The man takes both my hands in his enormous rough hands. “Don’t even fucking think about it.” He then bends down takes my legs and ties them up tightly. He roughly carries me down the hallway to the back bedroom. He’s going to try to rape me. He’ll need to untie my legs to do it. I can do this.
I repeat over and over to myself as he carries me away that I have to be strong; I can’t let the fear take over. Part of my body is already going numb with fear, fighting against my mind. My breathing comes fast and quick, but I try to take a slow deep breath, knowing I can’t have a panic attack now. My only chance to get away is in about twenty seconds. Sophie, Ellie, Holden.
He hurls me harshly face down on my dad’s comforter. The comforter I used to snuggle under with my mom and the girls to watch a movie. I take a deep breath, alerting my senses to the memory of my mom. I silently pray for her to give me strength as I hear the disturbing sound of a belt buckle, and then a zipper. He’s not going to untie my legs.
“I’ve been waiting for this. She promised I could have you before she finished you off.” He rips down my running pants in one motion. “I’m gonna take you until your heart stops beating, you little…”
All of the anger, humiliation, resentment, and rage I’ve had locked away inside me these past fifteen years bubbles up from deep inside. I throw myself backwards as hard as I can, slamming my head into Pock Face’s, catching him totally off guard, sending him crashing on the floor.
“You bitch,” he growls and tries to lunge for my legs.
I grab the large brass lamp on the nightstand next to me and slam it across his face, knocking him hard against the floor. Without hesitation, I begin hopping out the door, ripping down my gag, not looking back to see if he is still conscious. Adrenaline is pulsing through me, giving me the strength to catapult myself out the bedroom door, back into the empty family room. Another thirty yards and I am free. I reach down and pulled up my pants as I continue to struggle towards the door. I can think of nothing but that fucking door right now. Once I am close enough, I am going to scream as loud as I can and pray someone other than Mary hears me. The fear is pushing me closer and closer, even though in the back of my mind I know that I’m not really ever getting out of here alive. If my legs were free, I’d be outside and halfway down the street by now. I am grabbing on to every table and sofa back while I try to thrust myself forward, dripping blood and sweat everywhere. I’m not sure if I am lightheaded from the adrenaline, the loss of blood, or both, but I am seriously struggling to keep my vision clear, feeling my heart beating in my ears like a drum. A loud bang comes from behind me, but I don’t look back. I don’t need to: whoever it is will do everything they can to stop me. Keep going. You can’t stop, I tell myself.
Then there is a magical sound…the doorbell. Then a voice, a man’s voice.
“Mr. Dade? Um, Camryn?” JakeWaters’s voice calls from the other side of the door. I freeze, unsure if I should call out to him. How can you even think he’d help you? You’re here because of him. He’s just here to finish you off.
“Fuck.” I sigh, wanting to cry in defeat.
I turn around and see the irate large man holding his face, barely able to walk straight. Mary Wade is right next to him with a victorious smirk. Evil bitch.
I look back towards the door and instantly begin hopping towards it. Before I can even finish my next move, Pock Face is crashing down on top of me, bone to bone smashing together, sending sharp pains through my ankles. I can feel the bone of my left ankl
e as it snaps against the right one, causing me to cry out in agonizing pain.
Suddenly, another loud banging sound comes from the front door. “Camryn! What’s going on?” Slam! Slam! Slam! The door is forming dents all over its surface as Jake tries to bust through the door.
Mary Waters steps over our bodies, looking down at me and Pock Face as if annoyed. “Get her up on her feet.”
He growls and presses down on me hard, knocking the wind completely out of my body, causing the little breath I still had in me out of my chest in one large puff. With one easy motion, he has me on my feet. I buckle instantly, the pain from my broken, bleeding ankle unbearable. I try to steady myself, not wanting to give anyone in this room the satisfaction of seeing me suffer any more.
Mary Waters opens the door, and Jake comes bursting through with the same dark eyes he had that night so long ago. I nearly faint at the memory. Be strong. Don’t go out this way.
When his eyes meet mine, I swear I see them soften for a moment. He pauses; I watch his Adam’s apple swallow in slow motion as he looks back and forth between me, Pock Face, and his mom, dumbstruck. For an instant again, I think he may not have anything to do with all of this. Then I remember what he’s done to me, and can only imagine his plans for me now.
“What.The.Hell.Is.Going.On?” he asks in short, cutting words, anger making the veins in his forehead look as if they are about to burst.
Mrs. Waters calmly bolts shut the door and turns to her son. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me, Jacob.” Venom surrounds her words. She takes a few steps towards Pock Face, who has my arms securely behind my back again and pauses, turning back to Jake. “We are cleaning up your mess. That is what is going on.” She pulls a gun out from the cushion on the couch and holds it up to Jake, as if she is showing him a trophy. “If you would have had the balls to get this over with all those years ago, we wouldn’t even be in this position, Jacob.”
Jake’s words repeat in my thoughts. Every time he tried to apologize to me, he always mentioned he was forced to do it. But why?
Jake’s eyes narrow and he easily grabs the gun from his mom. Just as quickly, Pock Face pulls out his gun and aims it at Jake.
“Tell your goon to put down his gun and set Camryn on the couch. She is bleeding everywhere.” He eyes Pock Face cautiously, and then me. I see something in him change as he looks my bloodstained body up and down. A look crosses his face for a split second, but it can’t be mistaken; it was a look of acceptance. He’s been here before…forced by his mother to do the unthinkable. He puts the gun down to his side and wraps his mother up in his arms and lovingly kisses her head. They are all crazy.
“So it was you then. You were at the train station that night?” he says with a slight laugh.
I swallow hard at the blasé way he talks about my accident.
“Jacob, I have spent too long trying to protect you from the shame this girl has always brought to this family.”
Jake looks at me with sad eyes. “But she’s my sister, Mom. I told you before, I can’t do it.”
Disgust shoots over her face. My heart stops. Sister? What the hell is he talking about?
“Oh please, Jake. Just shut the hell up and let’s get this over with,” she says dismissively.
Jake looks down at the floor, unmoving as his mother takes the gun out of his hands. “Mikey, sweetheart, can you please go get Mr. Dade out here? It’s best if they are found together. It will look more like a home invasion this way.” She eyes me condescendingly. “Father and daughter murdered during home invasion. I can see the headlines now. It’s almost as good as the headlines you write, don’t you think, Camryn?”
Jake stands unmoving, having no reaction to his mother’s plan. As hard as I am trying to remain calm, my body begins uncontrollably shaking. It feels as if I am in a blender, my body having its own reaction to the realization of what is happening. I close my eyes tightly, sucking in a deep, soothing breath, trying to focus my mind and body. I can’t just sit here and let this all happen, but the pain in my ankle is so excruciating that I can hardly think straight. Pock Face grunts and rises from the couch, stopping to look down at me. “I’m going to fucking tear you from one end to the other before this is over, you little bitch.”
Mrs. Waters laughs at his threat, eyes wild with insanity. She comes towards me, her gun comfortably aimed at my head. “If your mother wasn’t such a slut, you wouldn’t be in this position, you know. You can blame her when you see her in Hell.”
I hadn’t noticed Jake moved. He gently places his hand on his mother’s arm, forcing her to put her gun back down. “It’s not her fault at all, Mother. It doesn’t have to end this way.”
She turns and looks at him, appalled. “Don’t you dare defend her! The Dades have done nothing but threaten to destroy our family for decades, Jacob. It took years to get people to stop the gossip about Camryn being your father’s bastard child….Years!” she almost screams.
What. The. Hell?
I could swear I could see steam coming out her ears, her hatred for me palpable. She eyes me with detestation. “Then she wrote that fucking article. Questions were being asked again. Questions that could ruin us. She’s going to tell everyone it was you, Jake.” She smacks his face, not surprising him, but making me jump out of my seat. This is complete crazy in live action.
“You don’t think this”—Jake points around the ransacked house, and then at the gun his mother is holding—“all of this that you have planned will ruin us? You are talking about murder, Mom! I won’t be a part of it.”
She seems to grow ten feet tall, her intimidating insanity simmering. “You will, and you are.”
Just then Pock Face walks around the corner, gun to my father’s head, leading him to my side. My dad’s wide eyes dart back and forth between me and Mary Waters as if this is all a shock to him.
“What the hell is going on, Mary? Jake?” My dad’s anger and shock is a palpable cocktail.
Mary Waters merely smiles and nods at Pock Face. Without warning, Pock Face hits my father in his head with his gun again, sending him tumbling to the ground.
“Dad!” I yell, but nothing comes out, the fear constricting my vocal cords.
“Oh shut up. He’s not even your real father.” Mary takes out her phone as if all of this is boring for her while Pock Face places my dad on the couch next to me, slumping his body so his head is resting on my shoulder. I instantly reach over and take his hand in mine. Daddy.
No matter if what Mary is saying is true…that my mother had an affair with John Waters, and I am his daughter…nothing will change the fact that the man sitting next to me, ready to die with me, is my father. Nothing. One thing I know for sure is that there is no way I am going to sit here and die. No. Way. Broken ankle or bionic ankle, I am not going to sit here, and let someone take my or my dad’s life away.
Without warning, a loud bang echoes through the room, causing a piercing ringing noise in my ears. To my complete shock and confusion, I watch as Pock Face seems to fall in slow motion to the ground in front of me, his head bursting with blood, tiny pieces of his brain scattering all over me…everywhere. So. Much. Blood. What the hell is happening?
I sit with my hands out to my sides, unable to speak or move. My dad’s still unconscious next to me, covered in blood, unmoving. Jake looks over to his mom, expressionless as he watches her lower her gun. He doesn’t seem shocked at his mother’s actions at all.
Mrs. Waters gets directly in Jake’s face and speaks as if in a trance. “I was here having dinner with Bobby and Camryn. You came here to pick me up. You came into her house. There was an intruder.” She takes the gun she is holding and hits herself with the gun right in the eye and then hands it to Jake as if nothing had just happened. Her eye already puffy, she comes over to the couch, sitting on the opposite side of my dad. She leans down to Pock Face and dips her hands in the pool of blood surrounding his head, and then begins splattering it all over her body, as if she was sitting he
re when he was shot. Oh my God, she is completely crazy.
“You saw Bobby, Camryn, and me on the couch, bleeding. Mikey had the gun up to my head, so you shot him. You are the hero. This mess is finally over and we live our lives happily ever after.” She has a proud look on her insane face.
Jake blankly looks down at his gun, and then over at us. “What do you expect me to do, Mother?”
She sneers disgustedly. “I expect you to do what you should have done years ago. Shoot Camryn and Bobby. And if you don’t, I will make you.”
The years of abuse are evident on Jake’s face with his mother’s threat. He lifts his gun towards us. This is it. I turn to my father and throw my body on his, pulling him to the floor. Another loud bang erupts through the room. My life flashes before my eyes. My last thought is Holden’s face.
I lay on the floor, unsure of what to do next. I’m not hit yet, and have to move if it’s going to stay that way. Adrenaline surges through me, giving me the strength to pop unsteadily to my feet, ready to run. My eyes meet Jake’s, causing me to freeze.
His gun is to his side, and with a sorrowful expression, he speaks quietly. “I’m sorry this happened. I should have stopped her years ago. She’s an evil person.”
I look back to the couch to see Mary Waters, slouched over, shot in the head. Her eyes are still wide with insanity, hands crossed on her lap as if she had no idea her son was about to turn on her. Jake saved me.
I feel lightheaded. My body begins to swerve unsteadily with relief. Jake runs to my side and has me in his arms before I can hit the floor. I look up into his sad eyes, eyes that I used to fear, that haunted my nightmares, and right now, they were eyes that made me feel safe. The feeling is both confusing and peaceful. This is a man I feared for so long. I feared the memory, his presence, the possibility of his revenge. Now, I know I don’t have anything to fear from him again. We both start to cry in each other’s arms.
“You saved us,” I whisper through my tears.
Dust to Dust: A Broken Fairy Tale Page 22
