Red Red Rose

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  We both waved as Cassie backed out of her parking spot blowing kisses at us.

  “Go on, I’ll wait until you’re in your car.”

  “Where are you parked?”

  He pointed at the lone car at the far end of the lot.

  “Okay, have a good night, Will.”

  He watched me climb behind the wheel and made sure I had the doors locked before he headed in the direction of his car. In a hurry to win that back massage I didn’t waste any time throwing on my belt and sticking the key in the ignition, but when I cranked it, my car made a weird sputtering noise and then died. I tried again to no avail. The awful, screeching sound, similar to that of a cat dying, drew Will back. He tapped on my window and then stepped back when I pushed the door open.

  “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know, stupid thing won’t start.”

  “Let me try.”

  I didn’t know what good it would do, but I got out and let him slide behind the wheel. It wouldn’t start for him either, so he popped the hood and stuck his head under it. I wasn’t sure how much he knew about cars, but when he slammed the hood back down, his grim expression indicated bad news.

  “Well, I’m not sure what the problem is. Sorry, I’m not much of a mechanic, and I doubt you’ll be able to get one to look at her tonight. You can call a tow truck, but they’ll charge you extra because it’s late. You’re better off waiting until tomorrow morning. I can give you a lift home or wait with you if you want to call Shaw.”

  “No, we’re a lot closer to my place than the police station, so if you drive fast I can still probably beat him home and at least get a back massage out of this night.”

  “Alright then,” he chuckled. “Let’s go.”

  We crossed the parking lot to the old Camaro. It had seen better days. The faded black paint was rusted in a few spots, and he had to jerk on the passenger door to get it open for me.

  “Here, let me move this out of your way.” He ducked his head and pulled out a duffel bag and then stepped aside to allow me to slide in. He opened the back door and tossed it in. I struggled with the buckle that was all twisted, but before I could get it clicked, an arm came around from the back and slammed a piece of fabric over my face. I let out a muffled squeal and released the belt. I tried to pry away the arm that held me pinned to the headrest, but he was too strong and the slightly sweet smell I was inhaling left me feeling lightheaded. My arms dropped and I heard him whisper, “Shh, it’s alright. Sleep, sweet Rose,” just before there was a sharp pinch in my neck and it was lights out.

  Twenty-Five

  I woke in the dark, feeling nauseous and disoriented. It only took a second to realize that I was in the trunk of a car. More than likely a faded black Camaro, and we were traveling fast.

  How did this happen? I was having trouble breathing through the fear and panic.

  Will.

  It was Will all along.

  But he was my friend. God, I was so stupid because he clearly was not my friend. He was . . . I didn’t even want to think about what he was. Or what was going to happen to me once this car stopped. I had no idea how long I’d been out or where he was taking me, but survival mode kicked in, pushing the terror back until I could manage it. My hands weren’t bound, so I felt around the trunk for anything that might be useful. It was empty except for me.

  I tried to think back over the what-if scenario of being trapped in a trunk. This was not a newer model car so I doubted there was a trunk release. I searched for one anyway, only to come up disappointed. The only other possible solution that came to me was to try and get to the tail lights. It was difficult to see and very cramped inside the trunk, but I wiggled myself to where I thought one should be and started prying at the panel covering it. It wasn’t as easy as I hoped and my fingers hurt with the effort, but I didn’t quit.

  It felt like forever before I finally got a small section peeled back. I felt around and was pretty sure I located the wires. I didn’t know whether to yank those, or just to try and kick out the light. Depending on what road we were on, a busted out light would probably get more attention that just a burned out one. Then I could go for the second one.

  I had to flip my whole body around to get my feet in position to start kicking. I only hoped the noise of the road would cover what I was about to do, or that if it didn’t, he wouldn’t risk stopping. Or maybe it would be better if he did. I could be ready, make my move as soon as he popped the trunk and then run for it.

  I never got the chance. I didn’t even get my first kick in before I felt the car slow and then turn onto a dirt road. By then I knew it was too late. If we were on a dirt road, it meant there likely wasn’t going to be anyone around to see a busted taillight. Still, I couldn’t do nothing, so I kicked and kicked, not worrying about the noise, until I felt the light give way.

  I hurried to try and look out of the hole I’d created, but it was difficult to get my face in there and too dark to see anything anyway. I definitely didn’t see the headlights of any other cars around, confirming my fear that this wouldn’t do me any good. All I could do was lie in wait and hope I’d still get my chance to run for it when he let me out of the trunk. It was a long wait, or maybe it was the fear dragging out every second, but it felt like hours passed on this damn road, riveted with potholes. And then the car slowed again, before coming to a stop completely.

  The engine shut off and my heart rate skyrocketed. I tried to ready myself. My shot was coming. I wished there was a tire iron or anything in here I could use, better yet, my purse with Stella, but I’d have to make do with my fists and feet. Hopefully he wouldn’t be expecting me to fight.

  Who was I kidding? Of course he was expecting it.

  I heard his door open and shut and I tensed, but then no other sound followed. I didn’t hear his footsteps coming around, and I definitely didn’t hear him release the trunk. I listened carefully, wondering if he was out there, waiting, trying to catch me off guard. I wouldn’t let that happen, so I stayed ready, prepared at any second to leap from this trunk like a flying ninja monkey and scratch his eyes out if that’s what it took.

  The only thing I heard for the next several minutes was silence, and I was beginning to fear his plan was to leave me in here all night. And then I heard it. Footsteps. It sounded like more than one set and defeat started to set in. I could maybe take on one attacker and do enough damage to get away, but two attackers was unlikely.

  I heard the key in the latch and I sucked in a deep breath. I didn’t care how many were outside that trunk, I’d kick and fight and scream until I couldn’t anymore. The latch released and the trunk lid popped and I raised my feet to kick it upward, hoping it might catch someone in the face, but it was lifted before I could. The breath in my lungs that I was prepared to release with an ear-piercing scream, deflated as I got my first look at who was waiting outside the trunk for me.

  I gasped, and cried, “Emily!” I scrambled from the trunk, almost falling face first into the dirt and rocks. Emily stood, feet bare and her too thin frame covered by nothing more than two thin scraps of underwear. Her hands were bound in front of her and in them she held the keys to the car. Her hair had been sheered short and uneven. She looked frail and broken, but I was overjoyed to see her alive. Tears streamed down her face and she looked anything but relieved to see me.

  I made a move toward her and she let out a strangled yelp and stumbled backwards. That’s when I noticed the cord wrapped around her neck. I followed it like a leash to Will, who stood back several feet. There were so many things I wanted to say, to ask, to scream at him. I wanted to return to my original plan of attack. I wanted to demand he tell me why he was doing this. I wanted to beg him to let us go. I did none of those things.

  I attempted to wipe every emotion off my face, hiding all the fear and anger and hatred I felt in that moment. “What do you want?”

  He smiled. He actually smiled.

  Then he held out the hand that wasn’t gripping Emil
y’s leash, to me. “Let’s go inside and talk about what I want.”

  That was the first moment I took to check out my surroundings. Since the trunk opened and I saw Emily, I’d been single-focused, but I needed to be more aware and alert if I was going to find a chance to escape. The moon cast just enough light that I could see exactly how screwed we were. Nothing but dense woods and the one road leading out, away from the small rundown cabin that stood in the small opening amongst trees.

  He waited patiently while I made my observations, knowing I could do nothing but comply while he had that damn cord around my best friend’s throat. I battled every fight or flight instinct I had and took the steps toward him and placed my trembling hand in his. A pleased smile stretched across his lips as he squeezed it in his and then turned on his heel, pulling both me and Emily after him. I looked over my shoulder at her being dragged along like a dog and balled my other hand into a fist at my side. I fought the urge to ram it into his face. I couldn’t do anything until there was a chance for both of us to get away from him.

  He jerked us both inside and secured several deadbolts once we were in and I took a few seconds to examine the interior. There wasn’t much to see. Dingy furniture, wood floors, animal heads on the wall and a fireplace with a small woodpile beside it. I doubted it did much for the chill that hung in the air.

  Will pulled Emily to him. She cowered and kept her eyes on the floor. I hated watching it. He brushed his hand over her cheek. Her entire body shook and she was unable to suppress her whimper. He was putting on a show for me, showing me what he’d done to her, how he’d beaten her down. Then he took the keys from her, tucking them in his pocket.

  “Come,” he said and led Emily through the sparse cabin. I didn’t know who he’d been talking to, but I followed them to a door in the tiny kitchen off of the main living area. He pulled it open and flicked a switch that illuminated a staircase leading down into a basement. From the outside, I wouldn’t have expected this place to have a basement.

  We descended, and as we did, an awful stench rose up to meet us. It was a combination of mildew, body odor and human waste. Once we reached the bottom of the stairs, Emily scampered over to a bare mattress in the corner. Will followed and removed the cord from her neck, only to fasten a shackle around her ankle that was anchored to the floor. Her eyes flitted to me, and then away in shame. What had he done to her? This fragile, docile girl was not my best friend. Her spirit and everything that made her her had been crushed and stamped out.

  I spotted a bucket near the mattress and I suspected that was the source of much of the stench. Bile rose up from my stomach and I had to swallow back my disgust. I scanned the rest of the room, but apart from a second mattress and a few shelves of canned goods and other food items, the basement was as bare as everything upstairs. My eyes locked onto another door. I suspected it was a second way out, but the door was padlocked, dashing any hopes I had of using it as an escape. There were no windows.

  When my gaze traveled back to Will and Emily, I realized they were both watching me. Emily with a look of utter devastation that threatened the semblance of calm I was holding onto. Will was analyzing me, probably reading me like an open book. A few slow, easy strides put him directly in front of me, and I had to root my feet to the floor to keep from shrinking back. He reached a hand forward to cup the side of my face. Once again, I was struggling to hide a reaction I knew would not help me at the moment. I just held still. I needed to find out what his plan was, what the end game was in all this, and work it to my advantage. If it meant pretending that I wasn’t absolutely repulsed by him, then I would try my damnedest.

  He swept his thumb across my bottom lip and then trailed it along my jaw and down my throat. I swallowed against all the unpleasant feelings rising up in me.

  “Follow me,” he said softly and let his hand fall away. He made for the stairs, and I hesitated a second, my eyes darting to Emily. I’d thought I would be making my home on the second mattress. I didn’t want to leave her. Will must have seen it in my reluctance to follow him as he’d commanded.

  “Don’t worry, Emily will be fine down here, as long as you continue to cooperate.” He hadn’t voiced the threat, but it was still there. If I stopped cooperating, Emily would suffer for it.

  I wouldn’t be the cause of anymore of her pain, so I left her there on her pitiful mattress chained to the floor and tried to shut out her soft cries as we climbed the stairs. At the top, Will flipped the switch, plunging the basement into darkness. He then shut and locked the door with another key from the ring in his pocket.

  He walked over to the counter and proceeded to uncork a bottle of wine. That he was so comfortable turning his back to me, revealed how confident he was that I wouldn’t try anything. He filled two wine glasses and took them to the small, rickety looking table. In the center sat a vase with red roses. He sat and indicated I should take the other seat at the table. I did so without hesitation this time and he seemed pleased by that. He slid one of the glasses across the table. I eyed it warily.

  “Don’t worry, it’s not drugged. You watched me uncork it, and I have no need to drug you again.” He tipped his glass to his lips. I could tell he didn’t care very much for the wine, though he tried to hide it. So this wasn’t for him. It was for me, some kind of gesture I didn’t know what to make of yet. I raised my glass and took the smallest sip.

  “It’s good,” I muttered, hoping it would please him, even though I hadn’t registered the taste before it slid down my throat. As I hoped it would, that earned me another smile. Keep him happy, Nora, I told myself.

  “I hoped you would like it,” he admitted softly. Good, he wanted to please me as well.

  “Thank you, Will.”

  His features turned dark. The sudden change startled me. “Don’t call me that,” he gritted out.

  “Then what should I call you?” I asked carefully.

  “You know my name,” he answered sharply, and I watched as he waited for me to acknowledge it, growing more irritated the longer it took me. I was afraid if I didn’t figure it out soon, he would not be happy with me. So far I was failing at the one thing I needed to do.

  “What’s my name, little Rose?” he growled.

  My eyes widened and I gasped, because he was right. I did know. Didn’t matter that he looked and sounded nothing like the boy I once knew, the way he said my name. I knew.

  “Aaron,” I whispered, and a slow, satisfied grin replaced the harsh lines.

  “That’s right. Why do you look so surprised? I promised you I would come back for you.”

  “You died.”

  “Did I?” He was still smiling.

  “In a fire.” But obviously he didn’t die in the fire. How was that possible?

  “Oh, yes the fire. The one that killed poor Robert, Maggie, Andrew and Sarah. So tragic.”

  I frowned. “But Andrew made it out.”

  “Did he? No, I don’t think he did. In fact, I know he didn’t. I made sure he was out cold in my bed before I started that fire. A little bit of the ketamine they used on their horses and everyone went right to sleep after dinner, except Robert. I was worried about the drug being detected, and I didn’t give him a high enough dose. He woke up and caught me messing with the electrical. I had to bash his head in and drag him back to bed before I started the fire. I just barely managed to escape. It was lucky I woke up in the middle of the night and had to go to the bathroom, or I might not have smelled the smoke until it was too late,” he grinned.

  “Why were you reported dead, if it was Andrew who died?”

  “Because I wanted everyone to think I was dead. I had a plan and I was tired of everyone getting in the way. It was really easy to convince them I was Andrew. We looked enough alike, and we’d been practically isolated on that piece of shit farm. Hardly any visitors and we were never allowed to go into town, not even for school. Maggie homeschooled us, but mostly I was put to work as a free farmhand. They had no living relatives except
for dear old Uncle Jack who had a falling out with his little brother when he inherited the farm from their father instead of Jack. He hadn’t even met Andrew or Sarah, but he took me in. After that, it was just a matter of finding you, which was a lot harder than I thought it would be, and took me quite a while.”

  “You killed them just so you could find me?”

  “No, I killed them because Robert was an abusive bastard who treated me like a dog and the rest of them followed in kind,” he spat. “And then I helped Uncle Jack along his way. He had a weak heart. It was going to give out sooner or later, I just ensured that it was sooner.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, Uncle Jack was a small boy during the Great Depression. His parents lost so much, almost lost that piece of shit farm that Robert inherited. Uncle Jack didn’t trust the banks. He liked to bury his money on his property and keep it stashed all over the place. Once I figured out where all of it was, I had no need of him, but I did have need of all that cash. I took it and I sold his house along with the farm. But then I made the mistake of going back to Sweet to try and find out what had happened to you. Your records were sealed up nice and tight and they started getting suspicious of me asking about you. Folks in Sweet have a long memory and I don’t think the lady at social services was fooled by the story I fed her.”

  “Then how did you find me?”

  He stood, abandoning the rest of his wine. “That’s a story for later. What matters is that I did find you.” He loomed over my chair and I couldn’t help but sink into it. He reached a hand out and grabbed my chin roughly and locked our eyes. “I found you and when I finally laid eyes on you after all that time, it felt like I was finally home. But you didn’t know me.” He dropped his hand.

  “You looked right at me and asked if you could help me like I was any other customer. At first I was pissed. How could you not know it was me? I left there so angry at you, all I’d done to find you and you didn’t even know me. I got into my car and considered driving back to Idaho and forgetting you ever existed, but I knew that wouldn’t work. I’d tried that already. For years I’d tried to forget you and never could.” He turned his back to me, and bent over the counter, staring out the tiny window above the kitchen sink. I could see his knuckles turning white as he gripped it.