by Liz Talley
So she’d cried in between bouts of glancing over her shoulder, triple-checking locks and praying Robbie would get on with his life, leaving her behind.
But she knew he wouldn’t.
On the outside Robbie had always been unassuming, cute and normal in a Kevin Bacon sort of way…but inside he was full-on sociopath.
And he would come.
Someday.
It was for the best she’d ended things with Lucas.
“Here we go,” Addy said, entering her room behind Charlotte. She turned on the lamp before lifting Charlotte onto her bed and grabbing her fluffiest throw. After finding the DVD in the bag, she turned on the TV and started setting up the movie.
“Do you like Creampie? She’s my favorite.” Charlotte flopped onto the pillows on Addy’s bed.
“Sure. I like the pink bow she wears in her hair.”
“It’s not pink, it’s wed,” Charlotte said, pointing to the picture of the cat on her backpack.
“Not all the time. See?” Addy lifted the DVD case and pointed to the pink bow.
“Oh, yeah,” Charlotte said.
The doorbell rang as Addy slid the disk into the player.
“I’ll get it,” Aunt Flora called up the stairs.
No need to put the video in. Addy turned to tell Charlotte her grandparents were here when a strange feeling hit her. She could hear Flora disarming the alarm as if it were in slow motion.
“No,” Addy yelled, but she knew it was too late. She could hear the door open.
She heard Flora say in a friendly voice, “Hey—”
And then she heard her aunt scream.
Oh, dear God, no.
He was here.
Like a monster, fear unleashed inside Addy, choking her, lurching around destroying any sanity she possessed. She was crippled and couldn’t move. Her mind flipped through every possible scenario before pausing on the truth—Robbie was downstairs and he’d already hurt Aunt Flora.
Addy pulled out her phone and dialed 911.
“I wanna watch Creampie,” Charlotte complained.
“Shh!” Addy turned and shook her head at Charlotte, praying the little girl understood. Charlotte made a face and looked as if she might cry.
“911…what’s your emergency?”
“Get to 309 Orchard Street. Hurry!” Addy threw the phone onto the dresser, leaving the line on, praying the woman traced it or sent a car or something. She could hear her aunt moaning and then heard another crash. Addy felt her heart speed and adrenaline flow out to her limbs, making her arms and legs suddenly heavy. Her vision sharpened as she walked to the door and peered down the hall toward the top of the stairs.
She could lock both her and Charlotte inside her room. Momentary guilt flashed over her aunt, but she had to protect Charlotte. Maybe she could hide her in the closet…
“Addy.” Robbie’s voice rose like a balloon in singsong madness. “Come out and play.”
Swallowing, Addy looked back at Charlotte.
“If you aren’t down here in five seconds, I’ll use the old lady as a sharpening stone. Get my drift?”
Addy didn’t have time to think, grabbing Charlotte while simultaneously slapping a hand over the wriggling child’s mouth and lifting her off the bed.
“Charlotte, there’s a bad man downstairs,” she whispered. “I want you to hide in my closet and be very, very quiet, okay? Don’t come out for anything.”
Charlotte struggled.
“Do what Addy says, Charlotte,” she said, opening the door and literally dumping the girl within. Placing a finger over her mouth, Addy shushed her.
Charlotte’s eyes filled with fear as she fell against Addy’s shoe boxes but she didn’t make a noise. Addy grabbed the backpack and tossed it inside, praying the little girl understood enough to stay put. Addy knew fear sheeted off her and hoped the kid could read it.
She didn’t have much more time to think about anything other than her aunt and Robbie with a knife. Switching the TV off, she looked around for a weapon. Her pepper spray was in the kitchen. She’d lent Chris her wooden bat last Sunday when he’d wanted to see the Louisville Slugger her baseball coach brother had brought her from his trip to the factory. Why hadn’t she placed it back under her bed?
Addy steeled herself for dealing with the man who wanted to hurt her with only her wits as a defense.
“Addy!” This time no singsong. Anger. “Get your ass down here or I stick the old lady.”
Addy walked down the stairs, fear her companion but somehow oddly calm about what she needed to do. Stay between him and Charlotte. Protect Flora as best she could.
She’d made it halfway down, when she saw him.
“Ah, there’s my brown-eyed girl. Daddy’s home, punkin’.”
Bile rose in Addy’s throat and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them. “Robbie.”
“Yeah, Robbie. Who’d ya think?”
Swallowing, she forced nonchalance. “What are you doing here? I heard you got out and figured you’d be ready to get on with your life.”
“Did ya? Well, I am. And guess what? It starts with you, so get your ass down here,” he said, fury glowing in his lurid eyes. He held a large hunting knife and he gestured with it. “Come to me. Now.”
Addy didn’t want to go, but she could see Aunt Flora’s legs out of the corner of her eye. She stepped down slowly, noting her aunt lay motionless and the small marble table just inside the living room had been knocked to the floor. He’d shoved her aunt and Flora wasn’t moving. A vise squeezed Addy’s heart and she prayed her aunt was merely unconscious.
Robbie wore camouflage pants, a black T-shirt and work boots. A scruffy goatee and bald head made him look nothing like the man she’d once had a crush on. No boyishness or charm. Prison had made his edges razor sharp and eaten away at his mental stability.
“You thought I’d forget about you?” He tsked, moving forward, shaking his head like a father facing a recalcitrant teen. Behind him the red light of the alarm system blinked, silently mocking her.
She’d never been safe. What a fool she’d been.
Motionless, she stood at the base of the stairs as Robbie walked, almost leisurely, her way. “Of course. You have a life to live after all.”
He smiled, lifting the knife so he could study his reflection in the shiny blade. “My little brown-eyed Susan thought I’d forgotten her. Isn’t that sad?”
Robbie’s cheese had really slid off his cracker. He was going to hurt her. Badly. Panic welled, but she fought it, listening to her internals, remembering that remaining calm and focused was her best chance of saving herself.
Of saving Charlotte.
He moved closer, his nostrils widening as he inhaled her scent. Addy’s heart slammed against her ribs and her legs felt rubbery, but she remained a statue, refusing to scurry from him.
She needed to move him from where he might hear Charlotte, perhaps into the living room. Or the kitchen where her pepper spray hung near the phone.
“You look well.” She managed to control her breathing, which threatened to gallop out of control. “Would you like a drink? I have some beer.”
His laughter made her knees buckle. Madness had carved a home inside him.
Addy slid toward the kitchen, holding out a hand in invitation. “You like Miller Lite if I recall.”
“Yeah, you like it in the kitchen, don’t cha?” His smile wasn’t pretty…wasn’t even close.
Shaking, she turned her back to him, closing her eyes as if she could wish this all away. She needed to buy time, protect Charlotte and keep Robbie from escalating the violence.
She entered the kitchen, glancing around for a weapon, but Robbie grabbed her elbow. “Don’t get any ideas like last time.”
He shoved her sleeve up, revealing the scars, tracing them with the handle of the knife. “Yeah, last time didn’t go so well for you, did it?”
“It landed you in prison.” She jerked away.
An expl
osion of a million stars and then the floor rushed up to meet her. Addy fell hard, her head thumping against the tile. She scrabbled on all fours to get away from him. He’d grown stronger in prison and the smack he’d given her made her face throb.
He reached for her and pulled her up.
Addy cradled her cheek and glared at him, trying not to cry out, refusing to give him that pleasure.
Robbie backed her against the counter, his entire body pressing into hers. She could smell his cologne mixed with sweat…and his rage. Reaching behind her she clutched the edge of the granite.
He moved his face closer. “See what you did? Reminding me of all the years I wasted in prison? You really should shut up and get me that beer.”
He lifted a hand to caress her cheek and she felt his breath on her neck as she turned her head away from him. Hot lips slid against the cheek he’d hit. “Kissin’ it better,” he whispered.
Bile churned in her stomach.
“Oh, sweet Addy, I missed you. Feel.” He ground against her and she felt his erection. The panic she’d held at bay broke loose, rampaging inside her.
“Robbie, please,” she moaned, pleading with him despite her resolve to remain calm.
“Oh, you want it now, darlin’? ’Cause I love when you say my name.”
He was going to rape her, that was assured, and he’d probably kill her. She’d seen homicidal rage in his dark eyes. She wedged a hand between them and pushed. “Stop.”
Robbie looked down and laughed before running the flat of the knife’s blade over her exposed collarbone. “Ah, yeah, I like this kind of foreplay, Addy. I’ve been waiting so long for you. I want to savor every second.” He snapped his teeth at her like a dog and then laughed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Addy saw Charlotte.
Oh, shit. No. No, no, no.
“Addy?” the little girl called uncertainly.
Robbie spun, tucking the knife behind his back. “Oh, who’s this?” he said in the same singsong voice he’d used earlier.
Charlotte’s blue eyes grew the size of half dollars as she watched the man move toward her.
“No,” Addy shouted. Why had the little girl left the closet? “Go upstairs, Charlotte. Miss Addy is visiting with an old friend.”
Charlotte never took her eyes off Robbie and in a quiet voice she said, “But I wanna watch Creampie.”
Addy moved quicker than a cat and put herself between the girl and Robbie. “She’s my neighbor. No need to involve her in this, Robbie.”
He tore his gaze from Charlotte and looked at Addy, a crazy gleam in his eye. “That wouldn’t be fun, now would it?”
Chapter Twenty-One
WHEN LUCAS ARRIVED at the arena hosting the motocross races, he got an earful from Chris’s coach whose supercilious attitude pissed him off. He’d already felt bad about Michael being late, but nothing compared to the way Addy had treated him. Like a damn stranger.
He stomped toward the concession stand to buy a beer, hoping it would make the sting of failure and the stress of driving like a stuntman fade.
After a few sips he set down the beer. Wasn’t working. His gut still churned with acid. And his ticker had gotten sucker punched all over again…
Lucas sank onto a metal bench and plopped earplugs in his ears to protect from all the loud engine revving and feedback from the sound system. Thank God he’d prepared for it after going to Chris’s practice a few nights ago.
He’d just pulled his phone out to check with his parents and be sure they’d gotten Charlotte when he saw his father walk into the arena entrance.
What the hell?
Rising, he made his way down to where his parents stood. “Dad!”
His father turned, tugging on his mother’s arm and waved.
Lucas jogged down. “What are y’all doing here? Where’s Charlotte?”
His mother looked up from her phone. “You have Charlotte.”
“You didn’t get my message?”
His mother shook her head, her light brown hair brushing her thin shoulders. “No. You didn’t call us back. We assumed you had her with you.”
“I left a message.” Lucas pointed at her phone.
“Well, it’s a new phone.” His mother looked at it with a frown.
“Check it again, Fran,” John said, tapping one of the icons.
His mother shook her head and made an apologetic face and handed it to her husband. “I’m no good with these smartphones. They confuse me.”
“Ah, hell, I screwed up,” Lucas breathed, dropping a perfunctory kiss on his mother’s cheek. “I’ll call Addy and tell her it will be a bit longer. You might as well stay.”
His father didn’t look up, just kept pressing buttons and frowning at Fran’s phone.
“Surely she’ll understand,” Fran said with an encouraging smile. “And at the least we’ll get to watch Chris attempt to break his neck.”
Lucas pulled out his own phone and dialed Addy’s number. He knew she wouldn’t be pissed, but hated the added complication of dealing with her yet again. He’d told himself if he stayed away from her, his pride could start the healing process. Throwing himself into her path with watching Charlotte had been a mistake. He should have brought the girl with him and done what his parents had suggested.
He waited for the phone to connect, but it went directly to Addy’s voice mail.
Hmm…strange. Addy always had her phone with her, and it was always charged. She’d told him it was one of her protocols for safety.
He tried again.
Same result.
His father handed the phone to his mother. “I miss the days when phones had a cord.”
His mother smiled. “Yes, but what would you do without your satellite radio and GPS?”
John’s eyes held tenderness for her. “You know me too well.”
“I can’t get in touch with Addy. I’ll try Aunt Flora while you two go sit. I’ll step out in the corridor,” he yelled as a dissonance of engines revved.
His parents nodded and moved toward the stands. Lucas headed toward the entrance, scrolling to Flora’s cell phone number.
He called her phone three times, alternating with Addy’s, which still went directly to voice mail.
On the forth call, a man answered. “Addy’s busy right now.” Then the line went dead.
Lucas lowered the phone, first confused by a man answering Flora’s phone and then wondering why he’d answered as if it were Addy’s phone.
Something was wrong.
And then it hit him like a train.
The dude who had tried to hurt her fifteen years ago—he was out on parole. The image of the white truck he nearly hit—a vehicle out of place. A man waiting until the neighbor left to make his move.
Lucas didn’t bother returning to the bleachers. He ran toward the front of the building, pushing out the glass doors, nearly knocking down a man entering.
“Watch it, asshole,” the man yelled.
But Lucas didn’t stop. He ran toward his truck, dialing 911 as he ran.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Send someone to 307 Orchard Street. No, wait. 309. 309 Orchard,” he said, jogging toward his truck, clicking the truck locks and wrenching the door open.
“Calm down, sir, and give me your name.”
“My name is not important. I need you to send a car to 309 Orchard Street, home of Flora… Oh, God, what’s her last name? I can’t remember, but Addy Toussant lives there and her stalker just got out of prison. Something’s wrong there.”
He backed out of the lot as the woman asked his name again. “I’m Lucas Finlay. My brother lives at 307. Send a car now. Hurry.” He clicked the phone and tossed it in the seat, jetting into the intersection, searching the streets before him. Luckily, the traffic was lighter. He headed toward the Crescent City Connection glowing on the horizon, trying not to kill anyone on his way to get to Addy and Charlotte. His heart raced and he felt as if panic choked him.
“Get out of my way, get out of my way” was the mantra he repeated as he sped toward Uptown.
In his head he prayed. Dear Lord, please don’t let me be too late. Please. I love her. I love them both.
Never had he felt so helpless. To be six foot four and able to lift sixty-pound bags of feed two at a time, able to wrestle a steer to the ground, able to crush a can in one hand…but not able to stop what was going down in Addy’s world.
All he could do was drive like the hounds of hell were on him and pray to a God he’d ignored too often.
*
AUNT FLORA’S PHONE kept ringing on the granite, jittering like a dancing chicken, the ringtone something she’d heard by Bruno Mars. It seemed to really piss Robbie off.
“Why does that goddamn phone keep ringing?” he shouted before grabbing Addy by her hair and dragging her toward one of the kitchen chairs. He shoved her toward the chair. “Sit down.”
Addy stumbled and fell against the chair, the sound screeching against the tile before the chair clattered to the floor. She popped up fast and reached toward Charlotte, who’d darted toward her.
Robbie made a grab for Charlotte but came up with air. He grinned at the little girl who’d wrapped herself around Addy’s legs. “Oh, little girl. Been so long since I’ve seen such innocence. Bet you’ll be the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”
The phone kept ringing and he cast an annoyed look at where it jangled near the coffeepot. Then he turned to Addy and leered. “Two for one deal, huh?”
“You sick bastard,” Addy said, lifting her chin. Terror ate away at her insides, but somehow she found her calm. She had no clue how she was able to even speak she was so afraid, but she found her voice again. “Your issue is with me. Not Charlotte.”
He cocked his head. “True, but I can’t turn down a gift like that, my brown-eyed girl.”
Addy did her best to look sad for the man. “What a pitiful man you are. Didn’t you realize all these years as you’ve sent those things, I wasn’t interested? What part of no don’t you understand?”
He literally growled at her, but the phone rang yet again. He snatched it up. “Addy’s busy right now.”
Addy’s mind flipped through the possibilities of the caller. No one Aunt Flora knew would continue to call over and over again. Maybe her father? And why weren’t the Finlays here already? Maybe Lucas’s parents would see the door open, catch a glimpse of Flora lying on the floor, and call the police.
