“My God, you’re stubborn!” Chas exclaims. “I know what you’re feeling right now. Give in. She’s already dead—you can’t save her.”
He’s right. The urge is like a fist squeezing my heart. But I can fight against it. I’m still human, after all.
“I’m not going to do this,” I say through my teeth.
“Tom…” he growls.
“I won’t, Chas. You can’t make me.”
Chas hovers over me, watching the blood flowing out of Mary’s body. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I know he isn’t going to get me to drink. I won’t do it. I killed George, but I refuse to become like him. He can’t change who I am.
I expect another argument, but Chas doesn’t say a word. Instead, I feel a flash of white hot pain go through my back. The pain is blinding, worse than anything I have ever experienced. Even worse than when George burned me.
Chas has stabbed me.
As I collapse against Mary, I feel his hot breath on my neck and hear his voice in my ear:
“I’ll make this real simple for you, Tom. You drink right now or you bleed to death.”
Chapter 30: Brooke
Just as I’m about to keel over from fear, Jamie opens the door. Jamie, with his kind blue eyes and concerned smile, leaning on his cane like always. When I see him, I just know everything is going to be okay. He looks surprised to see me and the crease between his eyebrows deepens when he sees my face.
“Brooke?” He frowns. “What’s wrong?”
I push past him into the apartment. “Lock the door.”
He does as I tell him. “What’s going on?”
“Hunter,” I manage, my eyes filling with tears. “He… he attacked me.” I swipe at my eyes. “He’s the one who killed Sydney and he… he was going to…”
Jamie’s eyes widen. “Oh Christ. Are you serious?”
I nod. I can’t get my heart to stop pounding. I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack. “Call the police, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” He shakes his head, still staring at me. “But… you got away from him…”
“I sprayed him with the mace,” I say, holding up the bottle. “You… you were right about that. It saved my life.”
He reaches out and takes it from me. “I knew he was trouble, but I never imagined…”
I shudder. “I can’t think about this right now…”
He nods. “Listen, go to the bathroom and take a minute, okay? I’ll call the police.”
“Thank you, Jamie.” Without thinking, I throw my arms around him. I’ve hugged him before for brief periods, but nothing like this. His body is warm and comforting against mine—it makes me feel like everything will be all right. This is a hug I want to live in forever. I don’t know why I was so hesitant to tell Jamie my feelings for him. I’m completely in love with him—I apparently needed to almost die to realize it. When all this is done with, I’m going to tell him how I really feel.
When he releases me, we stare into each other’s eyes for a minute. I nearly lean in to kiss him, but I don’t. The time isn’t right.
“Don’t worry, Brooke,” Jamie says. “He’s not going to be able to hurt you.”
I nod and give his hand one last squeeze before I go to the bathroom while Jamie calls the cops. I don’t have to pee, but he’s right—I need a minute. I stare at myself in the mirror—my face is deathly pale, my eyes are red and swollen, and my red hair is disheveled. I look like someone who almost got her throat slashed.
I splash water on my face, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. I’m safe now. I’m okay. I’m with Jamie.
I take some soap from the dispenser on his sink, noting with some surprise the bottle of hair dye on the counter. Hair dye? Why would Jamie dye his hair? He can’t be much older than his early thirties. And even if he did have gray hair, he doesn’t seem like the type who’d be vain about it.
My thoughts are interrupted by pounding on the front door.
I nearly jump out of my skin. It’s too soon to be the police—it must be Hunter. But how did he find me here? It’s been several minutes since I ran out of the apartment. It’s unlikely he followed me.
I hurry out of the bathroom and find Jamie standing by the door, his cane in one hand, the bottle of mace in the other. He’s staring at the door, his brow furrowed.
“I know you’re in there!” Hunter’s voice yells from behind the door. “Let me in!”
I take a step back instinctively, even though I know he can’t get inside. “Don’t let him in.”
Jamie doesn’t respond. He just stares at the door.
“Let me in, Tom!” he yells. “Come on! I know you’ve got her in there.”
I look at Jamie. “Who’s Tom?” I ask him.
He doesn’t answer me again. He doesn’t even look at me.
Hunter’s voice comes again, this time lower, almost conspiratorial, “Come on, Tom. We can work this out.”
Who’s Tom? What the hell is Hunter talking about? Work what out?
I look at Jamie, who is still staring at the door. There’s a look in his eyes that is eerily unfamiliar, considering I’ve known him for three years and counted him as one of my closest friends. I get a horrible sinking feeling.
“Jamie,” I say, “you called the police, right?”
Jamie looks at me, his blue eyes glassy. “No,” he says. “I didn’t.”
He grips his cane as he takes two steps to get to the door. I watch in horror as he releases his cane for a minute to turn the locks. I take another step back, a sick feeling in my stomach as Jamie opens the door to let Hunter inside.
A few minutes ago, Hunter’s face had appeared nearly melted, but now it seems just about back to normal. There’s some bruising high on his cheeks, but he otherwise looks just as handsome as ever. What the hell?
“Thank you, Tom.” Hunter flashes his white teeth at Jamie, who does not return the smile. He scans the living room until his dark eyes fall on me. “She’s here.”
“Of course she’s here, Chas,” Jamie says flatly. “She trusts me.”
Hunter throws back his head and laughs. Laughs. My knees tremble beneath me and all I can think about is how the hell I’m going to get out of here. I came to Jamie to help me. He’s right—I would have trusted him with my life.
And now he’s knowingly allowed the man who nearly killed me into his home.
“I was involved in some business with Brooke here,” Hunter says. “I hope you don’t mind if I… finish things up?”
I back up, bumping into the windowsill behind me. I glance behind me, out the window. It’s a five-story drop. I’d be dead if I tried it.
Jamie steps in front of Hunter, still gripping the mace in his hand. “I do mind, actually.”
Hunter blinks a few times in surprise. He smiles again but it seems crooked. “Come on, brother,” he says. “You can’t honestly argue she should be yours. I’ve been dating her for over a month.”
Brother?
What the hell is he talking about?
But now that I’m looking at the two of them together… Christ, they do look a lot alike. Same build, same facial features, although Hunter has a slightly stronger jaw and a more prominent nose. And Jamie’s got on his glasses, which makes him look different. Hunter is maybe half an inch taller, although it could be his shoes or the fact that Jamie is leaning on his cane. And of course, Hunter’s hair is jet black while Jamie’s is…
Oh my God, is that why Jamie dyes his hair?
“Listen to me, Chas,” Jamie says. Why does he keep calling him “Chas”? And why does Hunter keep calling Jamie “Tom”? “If you think you’re slitting her throat in my goddamn apartment or even in my building, you’ve got another thing coming. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Tom.” Hunter puts his hand on Jamie’s shoulder, but he shrugs him off. “It’s not like I’m an amateur. I’ll have her out of here without anyone seeing. I promise you.”
Jamie stares at him. “No.”
Hu
nter looks Jamie over, as if sizing him up, perhaps wondering if he can overpower him. Finally, he says, “I know you want her too. And I don’t blame you. Christ, that first night by Gramercy Park, I could smell her from a block away.” He licks his lips and I feel absolutely sick. “Even if I didn’t know where you lived, I could have found her here just by her scent.”
Jamie doesn’t respond. I want him to tell Hunter to fuck off, but it’s clear that’s not going to happen. It’s increasingly clear Jamie isn’t who I thought he was. I scream across the room, “You sick bastard!”
Hunter looks up at me in surprise, as if he’d forgotten I could hear them and knew how to talk. He laughs. “She has no idea, does she?”
“No,” Jamie murmurs.
“All that blood she’s around during the day. It clings to her.” Hunter takes a deep breath, sucking in a lungful of air. “God, Tom, I don’t know how you can be near her without wanting to suck her dry.”
Jamie glances back at me. I try to find something familiar in his blue eyes, but I can’t. I wonder if that’s even his real eye color. Maybe his eyes are really as dark as Hunter’s. I shiver and look away from him.
There’s a deep rumbling from just outside the window. I glance behind me and see a car come to a halt on the curb outside our building. I squint into the black night and see a man emerge slowly from the vehicle.
Detective Bateman.
He must have grown concerned when I never responded to his messages. And now he’s here to check on me. He knows Hunter killed Sydney. He can save me from these two... monsters. He’s my only hope at this point.
Except, of course, he’s going to go to my apartment to look for me. He has no clue I’m at Jamie’s place.
How can I alert him that I’m here and desperately need help?
“Come on, Tom.” Hunter claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Just look at you. It breaks my heart to see you like this, brother. You can barely walk—it’s obvious you’re malnourished. I know you love to play with your food, but this is getting silly. I’ll make you a deal—I’ll cut her throat right now and then we’ll share her.”
I can see Jamie considering it, looking between me and the man who is apparently his brother. I’ve known him for three years—there must be a way to get through to him. Or at least keep this from happening long enough for Detective Bateman to find me.
“Jamie,” I cry. “Please don’t do this…”
“One of us has to finish her tonight, Tom,” Hunter says, his jaw hardening. “She knows far too much. She can’t be allowed to leave this room. You know that, don’t you?”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to reply.
“Yes,” Jamie finally says. “I know that.”
Oh God…
I glance back behind me, down at the street. The detective’s car is still out there, but he’s not in sight. He must be in the building. He’s probably standing in front of my apartment right now, knocking on the door.
I could call him. He called me several times on what I believe to be a mobile number. I’ve got it saved in my phone from when he called me. Jamie and Hunter are clearly very distracted right now—maybe I could quietly dig my phone out and…
Shit, my phone is in my apartment. Hunter put it down on the counter after he took it away from me.
I’ve got no way to contact the detective.
“So…” Hunter raises his eyebrows. “Will you let me do it?”
“No,” Jamie says firmly. For a moment, I allow myself to have a shred of hope, but then he adds, “I want her, Chas. This is my building. I’ve known her for three years. I get to finish her.”
Hunter snorts. “As if you could stop me…”
Jamie doesn’t blink. “Watch me.”
Hunter looks like he’s considering taking him on, but then thinks better of it. “Be reasonable…”
Jamie holds up the bottle of mace. “Not negotiable, Chas. And I’ve got plenty of things in this apartment that will hurt you a hell of a lot more than this.”
Hunter is gritting his teeth. He considers this, then pulls the switchblade back out of his pocket. He holds it out to Jamie. “Okay, do it.”
Jamie takes the switchblade from Hunter. He looks back at me, and I shiver. His expression is so dark and unfamiliar. It’s clear that everything I’ve known about Jamie to this point has been a lie. He’s been taunting me, playing with me, waiting for this moment.
“I’ll do it alone,” he says.
Hunter blinks a few times. “I can’t even watch?”
“No.”
Hunter stands there, his eyes narrowed. Finally, he says, “Fine. Because you’re my brother and I want to make peace, I will let you have Brooke. But after you kill her, I want you to come with me.” His eyes soften for a moment into something almost like affection. “I miss you as a hunting partner, brother.”
Jamie nods. “Yes, I’ve been here far too long.”
Hunter looks at me one last time, his eyes traveling up and down my body in a way that makes me cringe. For a moment, I’m worried he’s going to pounce on me, despite his promise to Jamie. But he doesn’t. And anyway, Jamie has the knife now.
The one I’m about to be left alone with is holding the switchblade.
Hunter turns his attention back to Jamie. “You’re not going to get soft on me again, are you, brother?”
“Of course not.”
Hunter raises an eyebrow.
“Please, Chas,” Jamie snorts. “I don’t care if she dies. It’s not like she’s the love of my life.” He mumbles something I can’t quite make out, but sounds suspiciously like, “You already killed her.”
“Remember, Tom,” Hunter says in an ominous tone, “if you don’t take care of her, I will.”
Jamie shakes his head. “I’ve waited three years to have her. Believe me, I don’t want to wait another minute.”
With those words, Hunter turns and walks away. Jamie shuts the door behind him. Locks it. Then he turns to look at me.
I never saw Detective Bateman leave the building. He’s still here, presumably looking for me. Has he simply assumed I’m not home and will return later? Or does he have that detective gut instinct telling him something is wrong, that Brooke Nelson is not out on the town but is actually being held hostage by some sort of blood-sucking creature two floors down?
All I know is if there’s any chance of getting out of here alive, I’ve got to stall Jamie.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jamie’s cell phone on the coffee table. No, he doesn’t have the detective’s number programmed into it, but I could call 911. If I had seen the phone a minute earlier, it would have been easy to grab it, but now I’m not so sure. All of Jamie’s attention is on me. He’s not going to let me just pick up the phone and call the cops.
But maybe there’s a way to stall him. I could distract him until I can get ahold of the phone.
I look at Jamie, who is limping toward me as my stomach sinks. I have known James Kramer for three years. I thought he was one of the most decent men I’d ever met. I had thought I loved him. I would never have believed I’d hear him promise to slit my throat. But he’s still looking at me in that chilling, unfamiliar way. He’s got the switchblade in his right hand, raised at chest-level.
“Jamie…” I whisper.
He pauses, letting his right arm fall to his side. “For Christ’s sake,” he says. “I’m not going to kill you, Brooke. Stop looking at me that way.”
He walks past me and collapses onto the couch, rubbing his right thigh. He puts the knife down next to him on the sofa. I’m not sure what to do. The phone is left unguarded on the coffee table—at this point, I could easily grab it and make a run for it. But suddenly, it seems like escaping this apartment isn’t the smartest move. Jamie doesn’t seem like he’s going to kill me, at least not in the immediate future, and Hunter is probably right outside the door.
“Really,” Jamie says. “Just… sit down, okay? You’re making me nervous.”
He
’s nervous? Ha.
He picks the knife up off the couch and holds it out to me. “Would it make you feel better if I gave you this?”
I take it from him with hands that are shaking so badly, I almost drop it. I do feel better once my fingers close around the knife. “Aren’t you worried I’ll stab you?”
He snorts. “Sure, be my guest. Put me out of my misery.” He rubs his eyes with his fingers. “But I’m sure you realize that the second I’m dead, Hunter will slit your throat in a nanosecond.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
He frowns at me. “Yes, it bothers me. Why do you think I begged you to break up with him? And gave you the mace?”
I look over at the bottle he left on the coffee table. “What’s in that anyway? I assume it’s not regular mace.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Is it… garlic?”
Jamie smiles crookedly. “It’s sulfuric acid.”
I stare at the bottle. “Holy… are you saying I’ve been walking around with a bottle of sulfuric acid? I could have killed someone!”
“Hey, it saved your life, didn’t it?”
“Barely,” I sniff. “It was dumb luck I had my purse with me when he attacked me. I could just as easily be dead now.”
“But you’re not.”
“But I could have been!” I drop the knife on the coffee table, now that I know I’m not in any real danger here. “Do you even care?”
“Yes, I care,” Jamie says, sitting up straight on the couch. But I don’t believe him. I wonder if our entire friendship was an act on his part. Apparently, he just wanted to be near me for the smell. “I warned you. Repeatedly. You refused to listen. What else was I supposed to do?”
“You could have told me the truth.”
He snorts. “Yeah, that would have gone well.”
“So you’re fine with the fact that I almost died?”
“No, I am not fine with it,” he says through his teeth. “I did my best. I warned you. I gave you the mace. I assumed he’d try to kill you at a park like the others, so I started following you…”
“You started following me?” I shoot back. “How did you manage that?”
Love Bites Page 22
