Valentine (Cupid #2)

by Jade Eby

  Outside, a black limo was stationed at the curb. She rolled her eyes. It was one of Asher’s no doubt. She walked up to the passenger side window and knocked. When Asher’s familiar driver rolled it down, she smiled.

  “Did Asher tell you to watch me?” she asked.

  “I’m here to drive you around,” the old man said.

  “I have a car.”

  “I’ll drive behind you.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  The man said nothing and stared ahead.

  She broke the silence. “Doesn’t Asher know how to mind his own business?”

  “No, ma’am. He doesn’t.”

  “Well he should learn.”

  The driver fought against the small smile playing at his lips. “I’ll be sure to tell him that ma’am.”

  “Good. Now, I’m going to leave and I don’t want you to follow me. If your boss gets mad, tell him to take it up with me. Tell him I ordered you away.”

  “I don’t take orders from anyone but Mr. Bishop, ma’am.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.” She pulled out her phone. “See, here’s the thing. I have my bosses’ number on speed dial, as well as my own trusted cop. Did you happen to see him come by?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’ve also left enough evidence up in my apartment for the police to connect the dots on who this Cupid character is. I don’t think Asher would be very happy to find the police at his door, do you?”

  The driver stared at her, his almost-smile wiped away by a scowl. “No, ma’am.”

  “That’s what I thought. So who are you going to follow?”

  “No one, ma’am.”

  “Exactly.” She raced to her garage where Neil’s car sat dormant, backed out of the parking space, and watched in her rearview mirror for Asher’s driver to follow. When she saw no one pull behind her, she pressed down on the gas pedal.

  She might’ve liked Cupid for protection, but this was one job she was going to do herself. And after finally seeing photo-by-photo of what the man was capable of, she would have to keep some distance from him, until she absolutely needed saving.

  She was going to figure out Theresa’s secret, and then she would expose her and Maxwell and the rest of the creepy foster home freaks.

  When she arrived at the foster home, it had the aura of being abandoned. Silence permeated the perimeter. Police crime tape waved in the wind. No cars sat in the parking lot, except one, who Diana hoped belonged to Theresa.

  This would be her first stop to finding the crazy woman. If Theresa wasn’t there, then she’d search until she found her.

  Her phone buzzed. Diana checked the screen and read the text.

  Asher: Where did you go?

  Diana: What happened to you giving me my freedom?

  Asher: You haven’t called or said anything to me since you’ve left.

  Diana: I’ve had a lot to think about.

  Asher: Like what?

  Diana: My life.

  Asher: Not these Cupid killings? I know you’re worried about living on the island, but trust me, you’ll be safe. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from that mad man.

  She noticed how he mentioned the murders as if he was a regular citizen looking out for her, and not the actual killer himself.

  Diana: I’m not afraid of Cupid.

  Asher: Trust me. You should be.

  Diana: Maybe, he should be afraid of me.

  Asher: Maybe, he is.

  Diana: I have to go. I’m doing something. I’ll talk to you later.

  Dropping her phone back into her pocket book, Diana pushed up the side gate and tip-toed down the path to the foster home’s back entrance. CNN had already reported that since Maxwell’s death, the kids had been shipped to a temporary living facility in Fort Lauderdale with the hopes that any danger would be gone soon, and they could return to the island.

  If someone is here, it’s probably her.

  She wiggled the knob but it was locked.

  Damn. It’s too risky to go through the front. But there has to be a spare key. Men like Maxwell were too stupid to think other people would rob what was theirs.

  Jumping on tippy toes, Diana rubbed her hand over the door frame but nothing was there. She checked under the flower pot, beneath the grungy welcome mat caked with mud and footprints.

  “Dammit!” She aimed a blow to the door. As soon as her skin hit the metal door, she cried out.

  Why does that always look easier in the movies?

  And then a dark feminine voice sounded behind Diana. “You.”

  Diana froze and looked back to see Theresa pointing at her, her other hand massaging the bow in her hair. Her cheek was bandaged and taped up, but the reds around the whites of her eyeballs caught Diana off guard.

  How crazy was it that Diana hadn’t noticed the marks on her face during the news report? The make-up artist must’ve caked pounds of powder on her face to hide it.

  “Theresa... ”

  “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Theresa yelled and charged at her. She knocked Diana to the ground and pinned her arms down.

  “Wait.” Diana struggled with her on the ground and shoved her away. “Hey, I came to help.”

  “Help?” Theresa took one long swallow and then spit in Diana’s face. “You bitch! You ruined everything. You killed him. You killed him.”

  “I didn’t. But he deserved it.”

  “He did not,” Theresa yelled. “How could he? He was a good man!”

  Diana looked around her. It was nothing but woods, but she needed to get them both out of there. If Mary/Theresa was in fact guilty, then Diana didn’t want to be the last person seen with her.

  “Let’s go inside,” Diana offered. “I can help you find Cupid.”

  “Maxwell didn’t deserve to die.”

  “He hurt you. That’s why you’re this way, right? That’s why you were so attached to him. Or was it his father or brother? Who did it? Tell me what he did to you, Theresa, and I’ll help you. We’ll make everything better.”

  Theresa slapped Diana across the cheek. The tiny woman was stronger than she looked. It came out of nowhere. Diana stumbled back and held in the shock of the pain.

  Biting through the hurt, Diana grinned. “Are we not friends now?”

  “He never hurt me,” Theresa said quietly. “He loved me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Theresa slung keys at Diana. She caught them, right before Theresa pulled out a gun next, and pointed it at Diana. “Yes, let’s go talk somewhere private.”

  “No one ever told you that guns were dangerous?”

  “Guns don’t shoot people, people shoot people. And I will shoot you if you don’t unlock the door and go inside.”

  “Well,” Diana cleared her throat. “I won’t be sending you a basket of bows for Christmas this year. You can kiss those goodbye.”

  Diana did as she was told and opened the door.

  “Keep your hands up and walk towards Maxwell’s office.”

  I should’ve told Asher where I was.

  Diana kept her hands in the air, while the crazy woman followed behind her. “So you’ve taken over Maxwell’s duties?”

  “I’ve always been in charge of the foster home, since his father died.”

  “Was his father a nice man?”

  “The best. He never touched me.”

  “Did Maxwell?”

  “Yes, but only because I wanted to appear normal. I let him do things to me. But they were by my permission. Anybody that says otherwise should die.”

  “Well-noted.”

  They arrived at Maxwell’s office. It had yellow crime scene tape crossed in the doorway. Theresa ripped right through it and shoved Diana inside. “Welcome back, Diana.”

  She groaned. “Not this again.”

  Although the body had been taken away, death remained. It was faint at first—the coppery, metallic scent, like a penny one sniffed up close. Blood had been spil
led, lungs and other things had been punctured, sliced, diced, and skewered.

  She’d seen the pictures enough. Lost nights of sleep due to the horrors that Asher’s hands could bring.

  How could she let him touch her again, she’d wondered? How could she love a monster?

  Too bad, she had to face the office where Maxwell had died. It made it hard to ignore the thing that had been ringing in her head all day long.

  Vigilante or serial killer, in the end, Asher was a monster.

  That morbid truth sank deep into the room’s carpet, stained the walls, and lingered throughout the air. Even a stranger could walk in and tell with no problem that someone had died in that room. Terror occurred, and torture too.

  And the further into the room Theresa pulled Diana, the heavier the scent of blood became. Like a rotting, rancid stink had burrowed into the walls, the floors. The blood was still there. Over everything. Blood that Cupid—Asher—had spilled, for her.

  She bit back the urge to hurl all over the place.

  “Do you see this?” Theresa asked.

  Diana nodded.

  “This is all your fault. You came poking around looking for someone to take the fall for Cupid and you got Maxwell killed! Cupid came for him, instead...”

  “Instead of who, Theresa?”

  She looked into Diana’s eyes and a tear fell from her cheek.

  “Me,” she whispered. “He was supposed to come for me.”

  Seventeen

  Diana

  “I- I don’t understand,” Diana said, though she had a bad feeling she did. She wanted Theresa to say it, to make sure she wasn’t crazy.

  “Maxwell was a good man. He loved me. Like the way a real man should. But… it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough.” Theresa fingered the bow on her head. “I like other things. I like to do things that he would never understand. Have you ever seen how blank and innocent a child’s eyes look? It’s like—”

  “I don’t want to hear that. Tell me about Maxwell. Did he ever hurt you? Did his family do something to you, when you were little?”

  Theresa’s eyes went wide and she slapped Diana across the cheek again. “Of course not. He would never hurt a child.”

  “Then who did?” Diana touched her face and backed away. “You didn’t get this crazy on your own.”

  Theresa bit her lip and rocked back and forth. “I… I… I can’t tell. I can never tell. He told me to never tell or he’d kill me.”

  “Theresa, he can’t hurt you right now. It’s just me here. I won’t hurt you. Maxwell is dead.”

  “Not Maxwell. He would never hurt me.”

  “Then who?”

  She laughed, throwing her head back and varying the speed and intensity of her laughter. “Someone is coming for me. Aren’t they?”

  “Who?” Diana asked.

  “I know you won’t tell. But Cupid will be coming.” She lifted the gun up in the air, clapped her hands together, and then sang, “He’ll be coming round the mountain when he comes… he’ll be coming around the mountain when he comes. Oh, he’ll be coming round the mountain—”

  “Stop!” Diana lunged forward and knocked the gun out of Theresa’s hand.

  It fell to the floor. A shot rang out. The bullet burst through the wall and left a small hole. Both women turned to the gun and then dove for it. Neither got to it on time. Instead, they wrestled out of each other’s grip, each trying to hold the other back as if they could get the gun.

  In the end, Diana knew the woman’s main weakness.

  Diana went for the bow, snatched it away from her head, and jumped to the other side of the room.

  “No!” Theresa screamed. “Give it back! Give it back! I can’t breathe long without it.”

  Forgetting all about the gun on the floor, Theresa raised her hands and shook, staring the whole time at that flimsy bow between Diana’s fingers.

  “Now tell me the truth, dammit. Tell me who hurt you.” Diana wiggled the bow in the air as she hurried over to the gun and picked it up.

  “Give it back. Please, I can’t breathe.” The woman held her hands to her neck and gasped over and over as if she was drowning or choking on water. “I-I can’t breathe.”

  “He’ll find me too… he always finds me, when I don’t have it on.” Theresa checked the window and then grasped more at her neck. “He’ll find me and we’ll have to play. It doesn’t matter how old I am.”

  “Who Theresa? Who?”

  “Reverend Jackson!” She screamed, fell, held her hands to her ears, and writhed on the floor. “Reverend Jackson is coming to get me, and I can’t breathe.”

  There it was. The culprit. It was not Maxwell. He might have been innocent.

  A vicious shock went through Diana’s spine as she thought about it.

  If Maxwell didn’t touch those children… then, it must have been…?

  “Theresa?”

  She didn’t answer, just kept shaking.

  “Theresa?” Diana asked again and pointed the gun at her.

  “I can’t breathe. I’m losing my sight. I’m blind. I’m slowly losing my hearing.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Diana threw the bow at her and kept the gun’s target on the woman’s forehead. “Tell me about Maxwell.”

  “No, no, no. He’ll find me. He’ll get me.”

  “Reverend Jackson?” Diana asked.

  Fumbling to put the bow back on her head, Theresa turned and looked at Diana with cold, black eyes. “Cupid.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Diana closed her eyes, prayed Theresa’s answer was different from what she was expecting.

  “Because I’m a bad girl,” Theresa whispered. “I just wanted them to love me like Reverend Jackson did. I just wanted them to love me. But they didn’t! They tried to take my bow. They knew about the power it gave me, so I hurt them. They’re all tiny, but I showed those little ones…

  “Stop.” Diana’s hands shook as she held the gun.

  Never in her life had she been so close to killing someone. If the woman described how she’d hurt the kids, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself. And would it be wrong? Finally, she’d understood what Asher had been trying to say. Sometimes people had to die. Sometimes one had to take an evil person’s life into their own hands, and twist them into nothing.

  And poor Maxwell died just because I’d gotten it all wrong. Asher tortured him, turned the man into mincemeat, all based off of the wrong information and my plea to kill him. Now who’s playing God?

  Guilt rose inside of her chest and corroded any of the goodness that she’d felt that whole year. She’d done the worst thing possible. Once again, like her father, she’d had a hand in killing an innocent man.

  Tears slid down Diana’s cheeks as she thought of the massacre of Maxwell. She thought of the demand she made to Asher and how he’d followed through.

  She thought of all those children defiled by Bat-Shit Crazy Theresa who was only bat-shit because someone had stolen her innocence,

  erased her youth,

  turned her into a psycho pedophile.

  Diana couldn’t even wipe away the tears. “Maxwell didn’t rape those kids, you did.”

  Theresa nodded and went back to rocking. “And now Cupid is coming.”

  “You’re right. Cupid is coming.”

  Theresa froze and stared her. She didn’t even move when Diana took her phone out and dialed.

  Asher answered on the second ring.

  “Are you okay?” He sounded upset,

  or sick,

  or maybe even drunk.

  “What’s wrong, Diana?”

  “I’m fine.” Just hearing his voice made her shiver in lust, as well as disgust.

  What am I going to do about him?

  “You need to get to the foster home right now. We have to talk about something.”

  “The foster home? Diana, what did you do?”

  “Just hurry.” She hung up on him, and wondered what would happen
next.

  Should I turn myself in for the part I played with Maxwell? I killed an innocent man. What is going to happen to me? What am I supposed to do? How can I live with it all?

  She’d helped kill an innocent man and soon, somehow, she would have to pay for her part in his death.

  Eighteen

  Asher

  Diana’s voice had chilled Asher’s blood, cooled the molten lava running through his veins. She was asking for him. With desperation. He thought she wasn’t capable of distress, and there it was. She needed him, and he loved the way her voice spun syllables, especially when the words were to summon him.

  Asher called his driver. “Do you have an eye on her?”

  There was a foreboding silence on the line and then a sigh.

  “No, sir.”

  “What? I told you to—”

  “She threatened me, sir. She’s a liability.”

  “She… threatened… you?” Asher asked, though he already knew the answer. Diana was smart and coy and would do what she wanted to get her way. How did he think he could ever protect her, when she was so strong-willed?

  But threatening his driver?

  “How did she threaten you?” Asher asked.

  Flame breathed heavily into the line. “She actually threatened us both.”

  An uncomfortable sensation stirred inside of him. “How?”

  “She said that if I followed her that she would expose us to the cops. That she had a lot of evidence on both of us, and you know that I can’t go back to prison.”

  Asher couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped from him. “She wouldn’t. She was bluffing, Flame.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Go to the foster home. I’ll be there on my bike. Trust me. She won’t hurt you or me. She’s on our side.”

  “And if she’s not?”

  Asher’s stomach turned over into itself. “Let me worry about that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Asher changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. His hands grazed the top of his bow.

  Should I bring it for protection? What’s Diana up to? Is she just strolling around the foster home for clues or is this some sort of trap? No. Diana is on my side, not against me.