A chuckle escapes the contempt on her lips. "You don't get it, do you?"
I feel my heart skip a beat as her father joins in on her laughter. I'm the only one in the room who doesn't comprehend the joke. A fatal mistake.
"But don't worry, you'll face the true me before the night is over, Marie. And who knows, maybe we'll even meet the real you."
I try to respond to her threat, but nothing comes out but choked words. What does she mean? In my attempt to stay sane, I think about our fake names. It sounds odd not hearing Toni call me Karen. But it's just as crazy she isn't a Beth.
Our pseudonyms no longer matter. Everything has changed. The only truth I recognize is that the person I thought was a friend who may have seen through my faults, hates me beyond what seems possible. I've never felt such loathing burn within a person's eyes. I can't blame her though. How can I? If our roles were reversed, I'd feel the same way.
The father and daughter move away from me and discuss what to do next in private. Steven's still holding his knife. It's been bloodied by my body. I wonder how far he would have gone if Toni hadn't have stepped in when she did?
They're after my confession to replace the recorded one that may no longer exist on the damaged cell phone sitting in rice in the kitchen. I can only hope the footage is destroyed, because that damn phone captured it all.
The cheap cell got every screwed-up word of pain I caused that boy along with his family. The recording made it clear the reason I escaped justice for what I did, and they want the world to experience and share their anger first hand.
"Why did you come out here?" Steven asks Toni like I'm not in the room. "I had things under control. She didn't know who you were or about us being related to Tommy. We've lost that edge if we ever want her to confess again."
She doesn't answer straight away and gives me a sideways glance instead. "I know I blew our cover, but I could see you were losing control."
"I wasn't."
"Dad, come on," she says, hand on hip. "Don't lie to me. We both appreciate the temptation is there, but we have to work through it together and get her to confess. If we kill her, the truth will die by her side, and she'll avoid being punished for what she did to us."
Toni's words jab into my soul like a hot poker straight out of a fireplace. She talks about my life as if I'm disposable. But her carefree words make me think. Have I avoided anything for all these years the way she thinks I have? I've spent half a decade in mental agony, running away from who I thought was the biggest threat to my existence. The realization of the Price family, and not Zach, trying to find me this entire time hits hard.
All I can wonder is what took them so long.
Chapter 40
How did the Prices find me? Dustin comes to mind. Did he notice that these people were after me at any point? He barely ever mentioned them over the past five years. After the authorities released me from custody, he told me I'd never see the boy's family, that I was better off knowing as little about them as possible. I can say one thing without a doubt: either he didn't know what they were capable of all these years, or he was lying.
My brain takes me to Toni. She lived in my home for three months as Beth before this moment. Who in their right mind could do so with a person who had shot their little brother? And why did she wait so long to make a move? Either she didn't have the guts to ask me the right questions, or she never knew if I was the right person. After all, I wore a mask into the gas station.
She couldn't have known I shot him at first. Her behavior was consistent right until she left to go see her parents for a week. It wouldn't surprise me if she had found out who I was in that time. It justifies her odd actions and thoughts during our fake ordeal. Several times she tried to steer the conversation into territory I wasn't comfortable with no matter my reaction. She asked me questions that were far too personal in her attempt to extract the past from me.
The discussion in front continues and I can see where it's heading. My time is fast running out if I wish to survive tonight and escape. Not that I deserve to. I should push them further and further until they go over the line. But I won't do that. Despite all the anguish and self-hatred that's clouded my brain over the last few years, I still prefer to be alive. I want a second chance. I only told Steven otherwise because I thought he would kill Beth. Now I don't know what he or his daughter have planned.
Champagne Beach flutters through my mind, calling me. Will I ever see that place? I doubt it. I'll never feel its pure sand between my toes or smell the spray of unspoiled ocean water as it wraps itself around my body. Karma won't let me escape this. Paradise is just a dream now.
I think back to that moment when I realized I had shot the young boy. The gun fell free from my hand and clattered over the hard floor of the gas station. The wild attendant saw what I had done and stopped firing upon me. He too dropped his weapon. We both froze, unsure what to do. The next thing I knew, Zach was whisking me away.
All I remember from that point was him shouting at me as he sped off from the scene. I tried to convince myself I hadn't just shot a little kid in the chest. I couldn't have. What kind a person would do that and leave? Plus, I'd barely used Zach's pistol before, only having fired at bottles that were lined up along a fence out in the desert while being half drunk with him. I couldn't hit such a small target.
But I did.
When the attendant came charging out, I fired back to defend myself. I should have surrendered right there and then and thrown my gun to the ground, but I wanted to prove something to Zach so he would see me as the crazy, fun girl to keep around, and not a forgettable mess. I demanded to be his number one, but my pathetic desire got a boy hurt.
The dad, or Steven Price as I now recognize him, moves closer and stares down at my frail body. He's such a tall guy who I now know is capable of anything. His eyes are wild, and his nostrils are constantly flared. With good reason.
He wants to harm me and make me suffer. I shot his kid. Put the little man in a coma. If I were in Steven’s shoes, I'd have the same thoughts plowing through my head. Maybe worse.
I don't know what happened to his boy despite checking the death notices like a maniac before and after my arrest. I did so for years. Now, I only look every so often, running the name Tommy Price through all the databases I can access at once. Nothing ever came up. Had he awoken from the coma and identified me? No, I had that stupid mask on. Which means I can only ask myself something I've been trying to avoid since Steven and Toni both told me who they are: would they even be here if Tommy was okay?
"Dad?" Toni says, her voice urgent. He swivels to her and nods, communicating on a level I have no way to interpret.
Steven turns and takes another step forward. If he is about to do what I think he would love doing, I have to ask the single question that's flooding my mind.
"Is he alive?"
Steven's eyes narrow in as he stops. He stares at me without blinking. "No."
My shoulder's drop. Tommy is dead. At some point, his parents had to pull the plug, so to speak. The innocent kid I shot died. I murdered him. Tears roll down my cheeks again. This time I'm not concerned for myself. How can I be?
"Do it," I say.
Steven doesn't move an inch. He stares.
"Do it. I killed him. I shot your boy right in the chest. He's dead because of me. You know I deserve this."
The knife comes out again. It's not long before the cool metal is pressed against my throat as Steven grabs my hair and shoves my neck back. With my wrists restrained behind me, I can't stop him. "Go on," I say through the pain.
I close my eyes and wait for death to release me from this life. I'll never see Champagne Beach or escape the lonely existence I once lived, but no longer will I have to live in a constant state of fear.
Once this is done, I can be free.
Chapter 41
Toni – Then
It'd been six months. Six long months of visits back and forth to the hospital to see my brother
still in his induced coma. I moved home and put my nursing studies on hold. The last thing I wanted to think about was college when my little bro remained trapped inside a hellhole. Mom and Dad begged me not to, but I asked them why my life got to continue on while someone froze his in time? They didn't give me an answer, so I suspended my course load.
I had to be there for Tommy despite not wanting to spend another second in the hospital halls. I couldn't stand the smell of cleaning agents working overtime to fight off the disgusting odors and germs only a ward could produce. How many gallons of chemicals did they have to splash over the floors of the building each day to keep it clean? It was thoughts like that my brain focused on toward the end.
For the first three months, insurance covered everything. Then the company called and told us they could no longer fund Tommy's coma, that we'd exhausted all options and would need to finance his medical care from our own pocket. So that's what we did.
We all pitched in. Dad continued to bust his ass as an EMT while Mom took up a part-time job to help pay for Tommy's round-the-clock care. I got a position at a local coffee shop and offered every dollar toward the hospital. When we weren't working or sorting things out at home, we were in Tommy's room, each of us tired in our own way.
Dad and Mom communicated less and less as the days dragged on. It was as if they could no longer stand to be in the same space as each other. I even once tried to start a conversation they'd both have to be a part of to no avail. All they offered me were one-word answers or grunts like a pair of teenagers.
Despite all efforts to earn money, my parents had to dip into their savings to keep Tommy going, but after three months of funding, it was all in vain. The doctors gave the news as best they could. Tommy's diminishing brain activity meant he would never come out of the coma they'd put him in. In the first few months, he was still in there, fighting against the gunshot wound to his chest that had ricocheted into his head, but the battle took a change for the worse.
Slowly, over the last few months especially, his EEG showed a gradual descent. We held on ourselves, ever hopeful that things would turn around. We each believed he would somehow push back and fight his way out of oblivion. He had to; otherwise, what was this all for?
I visited him as much as I could. We all did at different times. I'd read to him and tell him what had been happening in the world while I played his favorite music as loudly as the hospital staff would let me. But it was all a painful waste of time.
After six months of being placed into the coma, Tommy's brain activity reached zero. He was gone. All we had left was his half-machine body. I could almost see the difference when I looked at him. Something was missing. No longer was my baby brother lying before me but a withered husk.
My parents gave the doctors permission to turn off his life support. It was the right thing to do no matter how much it hurt us all. Tommy's frame didn't last long either. In less than two days, they pronounced him dead, but we all knew that he had died six months ago when that piece of crap robber shot him in the chest.
I stowed my anger away in time for Tommy's funeral. I had to be there for my struggling parents and doing so full of rage would not help one bit. There's nothing worse than watching a child get buried.
I'll never forget his tombstone:
Thomas Price
Son of Steven and Laura Price
Brother of Antoinette Price.
2008 - 2014
It was the last line of his tombstone that hurt the most. Seeing such a short date range was devastating. It seemed like a blip in time you'd see on a resume and not a representation of a person's life. I couldn't help but think about the things he'd miss out on, the experiences he would never know. Who would he have met and bonded with if he'd been given the opportunity to grow up?
Almost two hundred people came to pay their respects. They were all from his life. Classmates and parents, aunties and uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers. The most surreal moment was seeing Tommy's great grandmother attending. There she was in her nineties, shuffling along, closer to death than anyone else in the room to see off her daughter's daughter's son. It was backward.
I cried so much at the funeral I ran out of tears. My eyes instead burned away in their sockets leaving behind red streaks of pain. When my time came to speak, I froze up on the stage and stared out at the sea of faces all locked onto mine and felt my jaw clench. I charged off without a word and hid in the church's rear.
Mom saved me by taking my place despite having stated that she couldn't handle the task. I listened in a back room while my dad comforted me as best he could. That was the worst part of it all. No one could make me feel better, no matter what they said or did. I was a useless waste of space that needed her little brother. But nothing could bring Tommy back.
When the funeral was over, I went home with Mom and Dad, sitting on my side of the car the way I always did. Tommy's spot was empty. No booster seat, no collection of toys strewn about the floor, no sign he was ever there. I burst into tears again, worse than I had the entire day. I couldn't handle seeing that vacant sight. Is that what happened when we died? Did we vanish into thin air as if we'd never existed in the first place?
When we got home, no one knew what to do next. Driving to the hospital had given the three of us hope and purpose. Having a reason to get out of bed every morning when all you wanted to do was hide under the covers kept the remainder of our family going.
Now Tommy was dead and buried in the ground at the local cemetery. There was nothing left to do but to find a new reason to get up in the morning and move on with our lives.
Easier said than done.
Chapter 42
Marie – Now
I do what little I can to grit through the stinging in my eyes each tear leaves behind in their wake. With both hands bound behind my back, I have no other option but to let the salty liquid run down my cheeks.
I'm still alive. Toni sent her father off again to cool down, pulling him and his knife away from my neck. I doubt she can keep protecting me from death like this. He wants blood, and I can't help antagonizing him now that I know what happened to Tommy.
The pain returns in my shoulder as my adrenaline fades, clawing and throbbing at my skin. So much so I am forced to think about anything else while I focus on my breathing. Over the last year, I'd spent thirty minutes a day meditating. It sounds stupid, but I needed the calmness in my life whenever my anxiety went into overdrive. But no amount of focusing or letting go of the world around me could block out these last few hours.
"Come on, Marie. Just confess. Don't you want to do this the easy way?" Toni asks. She's sitting by my side on the sofa, speaking to me as if we're still friends while recording the conversation, creeping me the hell out.
"'The easy way'? You mean whatever way gets me to confess the fastest."
Toni scoffs and leans toward me. "No, I mean whatever way gets you talking without my father needing to step in."
My chest and shoulder radiate with pain for a moment as I picture Steven standing over me with his knife. I wonder how much he was enjoying making me suffer. Toni is already getting inside my head with little effort.
"If I were you, I'd want this all to be over with. Just let the truth come out and set you free from this prison you've created for yourself."
I know what she's doing, and it won't work. At least not yet. "I've been hiding in this place for five years. What makes you think I couldn't continue doing so for another five or ten or twenty years?"
Toni leans away and exhales through flared nostrils as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You know we found her, don't you?" she says changing the subject.
"Found who?" I say with a shrug.
"Sanchez's other girl. The other woman you so desperately craved to beat."
"Oh, her," I reply, my head lowering. A lump in my throat forms. I never knew her name. I avoided thinking about the possibility of Zach calling out anyone else's but my own. He was mine.
&nbs
p; I knew there were others he'd see for a night or two, but this other person had hung around for longer than anyone else. Of course, Zach didn't hold back on letting me notice this information, the bastard. I think he made sure I realized he had options. He wanted me to play his games and compete for his love to inflate his ego. It worked like a charm.
"Yeah, you understand who I'm talking about. We had some interesting questions to ask Rose Melton."
The corner of my mouth twists up. "I don't care what she had to say," I blurt. But I realize the importance of this other woman far too late to be of use.
"Come on, you recognize who she is and why we went to the trouble of finding her, right?" Toni says. "Think about it."
I do what I can to hide my feelings, but Toni sees right through me. "Maybe, but I didn't know her. I can only confirm she was close to Zach."
"She was the one who motivated you to do the gas station robbery, wasn't she."
"Yes," I reply, squirming in my spot.
"Not only did she inspire you to make the worst decision of your life, she also testified against Zach. She too would help him rob the banks, yet the feds cut her a deal so she could also sell Zach out and go into hiding. I gotta say, the loyalty you both exhibited makes me question why either of you bothered to date him in the first place."
I shake my head, trying to forget. How does Toni know so much about this?
"Guess what we learned when we found her?"
"What?" I say, ready to snap. I already know the answer.
"She didn't kill our Tommy. See we had our search narrowed down to you and Rose. We could not work out who of Zach's girls was the one dumb enough to rob a gas station on a whim simply to impress him. The police did everything they could to suppress the identity of the shooter. That's why I moved in here. We had to keep an eye on you while my dad monitored Rose from a distance."
I turn toward her with a narrowed brow. "When was this? When did you find out the truth about me?"
He's At Your Door: a gripping psychological thriller Page 13
