by Alex Gates
That I remembered. It still disturbed me.
“We even stopped production after Todd died. Had to. Couldn’t let it seem like there was more than one man. So, you see why I have to do this,” David said. “I can’t get caught. Not now. Not after seven years.”
“And when they find the bodies?”
“Obviously, we found the real kidnappers. Tried to ransom for Sophia. The deal went bad, and no one was spared.” His voice softened. “Tragic. Just tragic.”
“And what happens to you?”
“Does it matter? No wife. No children. I’ve been cuckholded for seventeen years.”
“And that justifies murder?”
“Have you ever been in love, Detective?”
My heart lurched. Why deny it when a gun aimed for my head. “Yes.”
“Then you know how much it hurts.”
Too much. “But I also know when to step aside. I’d rather that he be happy instead of us both living in a misery of my own creation.”
David grinned. “Are you sure? Isn’t there a part of you that wants something more? A selfishness? You deserve your own reward, your own happiness. This is what happens when you’re selfless.” He snorted. “You only get hurt.”
“And I’d let it hurt…as long it didn’t hurt him.”
“Better to inflict pain than miss a second of what it feels like to be loved.”
The ice cracked again. David’s attention drifted. The gun lowered.
He never saw her coming.
A furious scream echoed into the forest. David turned, but Amy was already in the air. She launched herself at him, cracking him in the side.
They tumbled down and landed on Sophia. I shouted too late.
The pond splintered, and the sharp crash of fracturing ice blasted over the clearing like a gunshot. Water surged into the gap, sucking the ice and all three bodies into the depths. Sophia wailed before the water swallowed her completely.
I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate.
I ran to the edge of the hole and dove into the frigid water.
Mistake.
This wasn’t chill—it was death. The air seized in my lungs, immediately driven out in a crash of heartbeat and the rage of panic. The icy blast tore at my skin. I surged down, but my arms and legs tangled in sheer reluctance. Every muscle spasmed and screamed.
But Sophia was still falling.
My breath escaped in a flurry of bubbles. I didn’t kick for the surface. I dove deeper, into the darkness and cold. A little hand grasped for the water. I took it and pulled.
Her body was like deadweight. Had she already passed out?
How the hell was I going to get us both out of the water?
I bolted to the surface, hauling her close. My hand struck ice. That wasn’t good. I struck the frozen wall with a balled fist.
Not there.
Another kick.
Not here.
I’d lost the opening and spun in confusion. The concussion streaked my vision with brightness. Nothing helped. The cold stole every rational thought.
Another strike.
Looser ice chipped away. I kicked and crashed against the barrier. The brightness intensified. I dove forward.
And I was clear.
The air gasped in and out of my lungs before I could use any of it. I tugged Sophia up to the hole, but she flailed in panic. I didn’t have room to prepare before she scaled my body. Her feet drove into my gut, elbows into my shoulder. I sunk under the water again, inhaling the ice.
I swallowed daggers.
We’d both die if she didn’t calm down.
The cold stole her strength. I surged upwards and sealed her into a tight bear-hug. “Stop!” The words chattered. I didn’t know if they even made sense. “C—Climb!”
I pushed her into the shelf of ice. Sophia instinctively followed my instructions. She tossed her arms, crying and gasping as the ice refused to let her up. She didn’t have the strength.
Neither did I, but I had to try.
I dunked under and kicked upward, pushing her as far from the water as I could manage. Her hips landed on the ice. A few wiggles and she was out.
“O—off.” I shivered. Everything hurt. Pain weighed me down, heavy and frozen. “Off the ice. Crawl.”
Sophia scrambled. She couldn’t have stood if she wanted. She rushed to the shore on her belly, squirming onto the snow where she collapsed in a wet heap of torn dress and exhaustion.
Now who was going to help me?
I lunged over the ice. My hands slipped right off. I jumped again. The water splashed my face, and a chill of shock dulled my movements. My heart raged, but it couldn’t get me warm, couldn’t let me breathe, couldn’t help me out of the pond.
I wasn’t dying like this.
I dove again and hauled myself onto my elbows. The victory didn’t last long. Hands wrapped around my ankles. I jerked, nearly falling into the water.
David.
I kicked. His grip somehow strengthened. He surged to the surface and gasped a hearty gulp of air. A yank, and I was almost cast under.
I surged again, charging for a shore I’d never touch. A second kick landed on his nose. A third his forehead. But he didn’t release me. The cold drove into my legs, freezing and recracking with every plunge into the water. My bad leg screamed in pain. I couldn’t use it. My hands lost an inch on the ice. Then another.
I turned. David’s fingers sunk into my thigh. With a roar, he pulled.
But I didn’t crash under the ice with him.
A flurry of bubbles and thrashing yanked him away. He roared as Amy clawed up his body. Her fingers gouged into his eyes, tore at his ears, and cracked against his skull.
Then, with a final jerk, he disappeared into the darkness below.
Neither would resurface.
I dove again for the hole. Two attempts, and I rolled onto the ice. The cold would destroy me.
I crawled to the shore as I gasped for air. My lungs were too cold to function, but the movement helped. Sophia couldn’t move, but she reached for me. I collapsed at her side. Exhausted.
But we couldn’t stop. We had to get to the cars. Had to keep moving. Had to get help. I’d come too far to lose her now. Sophia stared at me, her eyes bigger and bluer than the camera ever captured.
“Are we safe?”
At least I could answer this question for her.
Relieve her.
Give her the comfort that was denied to Alyssa and Kaitlyn.
“Yeah.” I pulled her close. “Yeah, you’re safe.”
32
What is it about you that makes me crazy?
I’m addicted to your suffering.
-Him
All hospitals were terrible. This one was worse because they let my mother visit.
“I can’t believe you broke up with James.”
It was the fourth time she’d said it, and the fourth time I’d corrected her.
“We didn’t break-up.” I still shivered in the bed. Three blankets weren’t enough, and neither were the drugs they’d pumped into me for the concussion. Then again, my mother tended to negate the effects of most pain-killers. “He went to DC. And I nearly died on a frozen lake today. Where are your priorities?”
“With the two-hundred-dollar mother-of-the-bride dress I’ll have to return.” She fussed with her purse and checked her phone, texting the entirety of the McKenna clan an update on the size of the bump on my head. “I guess I can wear it to Easter, but Jesus forgive me for showcasing my booty during the resurrection.”
I sighed. “We didn’t cancel the wedding.”
“When’s the date?”
“We never made one. But it’s fine. We’ll get married. We…we’re stuck with this job situation now. That’s all.”
I studied the machinery tethering me to the bed. Electric blankets. An IV. Maybe if I used it to strangle myself, I could avoid talking about James.
I just couldn’t do it yet, and no one understood. I had to beg
Ben, the doctors, and my mother to not call him.
I’d worried him enough over the years.
No sense making it worse.
“He was the best thing that ever happened to you,” she warned.
“Mom, I met James after my kidnapping,” I said. “That’s anything but the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Oh hush. That kidnapping made you who you are today.”
A neurotic Popsicle thawing in a hospital bed? “And what the hell am I?”
The phone dropped. I’d faced a crazed killer with a gun, but nothing was worse than that matriarchal look of disapproval.
“You’re a strong, resilient, determined woman. A hero, London.”
I closed my eyes. “You know as well as me…I’m none of those things.”
“What do you think you are?”
Why lie to my own mother? “I’m fucked up.”
She crossed herself with the same hand she used to smack my arm. “Only if you let James get away. I don’t know what it is about you, but you seem to think that your life stopped when you were twenty years old. Well, I’m here to tell you—that was when you started living.”
“They never caught him.”
“So?” Mom shrugged. “Maybe you’ll be the one to catch him. Maybe no one will ever catch him. Don’t live your life in fear of what’s happened. Not when there’s so much good to look forward to.”
“Like what?”
“Grandkids.”
“Of course.”
“I expect three.”
“I’m sure you do.”
The door opened. I shifted, expecting another nurse with hands as cold as the pond. But the woman in the baby blue scrubs wasn’t my nurse. I quieted as Heather Gibson entered the room. The door closed behind her. She stood motionless.
My stomach lurched.
Did she know?
Did she know that I killed her husband?
“Oh, good.” Mom waved a hand at her. “Can you tell the officers in the hall London is tired, and I don’t care if they hoot and holler all night—she’s giving her statement tomorrow?”
That wasn’t how this worked. And I wasn’t staying in the hospital overnight. I’d planned to leave, but now…
I wasn’t sure I’d make it out of here alive.
Heather hadn’t spoken. Something glittered in her palm. A flash of steel.
“Mom…” I swallowed. “Can you please leave?”
“What?” She huffed. “Absolutely not. Eight months ago, I didn’t even hear about your broken leg until after the surgery. Then you miss Christmas and almost get shot in that field. No. I’m not leaving.”
“Mom, please.”
“No. London, I am here for you. I’m not letting you nearly drown and cope with a break-up all in the same night—”
I didn’t take my eyes from Heather. “Mom. Please. You aren’t going to want to see this. Go get a cup of coffee. Call Dad. Just…go.”
“Fine.” Mom fretted, but she dropped her purse on the chair next to me. “But I’m coming back.” She glanced at Heather. “Five minutes.”
It was all Heather would need.
The door closed behind Mom. I straightened, but I had no strength. My head pounded, my arms and legs still felt frozen. I wasn’t moving.
Or running.
“Is it true?” Heather stared at me, unblinking. “Tim is dead?”
This wasn’t good. “Heather, you shouldn’t be here. Someone should have talked to you at home—”
“No!” Her voice cracked when she yelled. “No. Not someone. You. I want to hear it from…from you. Where is my husband?”
“You need to talk to Detective Chase.”
“You killed him.”
I swallowed, but my head still rattled like her husband had knocked my skull into sixteen pieces.
“There’s a lot you’re not understanding now,” I said.
“You killed my husband.”
Well, she understood that. “You really need to go home. This has to do with Jeremy and Kaitlyn. It’s going to be hard to hear.”
“I don’t believe you.” The blade rose. A scalpel. She aimed it at me. “They said…Tim took Kaitlyn.”
“We were all misled. Tim, Jason, David, and Todd. They planned it all.”
“Tim wouldn’t do this.” Tears rolled over her cheeks. She didn’t realize she was crying. “No. He wouldn’t hurt our little girl. He wouldn’t kill Todd. He wouldn’t…he wouldn’t do those things to Jeremy. He’s a good man.”
Neither of us believed that, but I wasn’t the one holding the weapon.
I peeled the blankets off me. My feet were bandaged, wrapped in clean linen to treat the touch of frostbite nipping my toes. A cane rested against the bed, my old nemesis. It’d work.
I stood, gripping the cane, ignoring the shooting pins and needles in my feet.
“Tim tried to kill me,” I said. “He held me hostage and threatened to murder me for exposing the kidnappings. I didn’t have a choice—I had to save Sophia.”
I didn’t expect Heather to understand. She leaned against the wall, one hand braced behind her, the other brandishing the scalpel.
She stared at me with such hatred.
“He was right…” Her voice weakened. “You’ve ruined everything. You’ve destroyed everyone. And now…it’s your fault they’re dead. Kaitlyn. Tim. They’d still be alive without you.”
“Tim held your daughter captive. He helped to arrange her kidnapping. He allowed Todd to do those things to her and profited from the videos they produced of her ordeal.”
Her eyes went glassy. “He wouldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t hurt Jeremy.”
“Heather, please. Come with me. Let’s take you to one of the patrol officers. They’ll help you get home.”
I reached for her.
Mistake.
Her grip tightened over the knife.
“What home?” She sobbed. “I have no home. And you are the one who brought this misery on us. It’s your fault. Sophia is alive, but what about the others? What about my Kaitlyn? My family is gone. You murdered my husband. You’ve forced this darkness on us all.”
And maybe once, I might have believed it. Maybe once, I would have fallen on that knife to spare her any further pain.
But now?
I’d been used, manipulated, and threatened too many times, had too many weapons aimed for me.
I dove into an ice-covered pond to save a little girl from becoming a woman like me. No one deserved to live a life of darkness, remorse, and pain. Not Sophia. And not me.
Every step hurt, but I approached Heather confidently. My hand extended.
“Give me the knife,” I said. “And we’ll talk.”
Heather gritted her teeth. “You murdered my husband. You let my daughter die. You’ve torn my family apart. You think I want to talk? A monster like you doesn’t deserve to live. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”
“What?”
“I was there. Watching you in the driveway. Fighting with your boyfriend.” Heather wept. “I was in your house. Such a big house. Empty. Does the emptiness kill you like it does me?”
In my house? The drawing left on kitchen table!
Jesus Christ.
“Yes,” I said. “It kills me too.”
“I lost my children…and it meant nothing to you,” she said. “Just another mystery to solve. Another secret to unravel. My son. My daughter. And you just rifled through their memories and desecrated their souls. For what? They’re still dead!”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I am. If I could—”
“You don’t know how it feels to lose a child.”
Yes, I did. And it hurt a hell of a lot more than an icy pond or concussion.
Heather attacked. She rushed me, scalpel held at an angle too easy to disarm. I whipped the cane forward, slicing against her knee. She went down, and I tumbled onto her, pinning her to the ground with the cane against her neck. One quick elbow, and the kni
fe dropped.
Heather screamed, but her struggles didn’t land any blows against me. She fought herself. The truth. Her own living nightmare.
The doors crashed open, but I didn’t let the patrol step in. I held her until the struggling turned to sobs.
“I would never willingly hurt your family,” I whispered. “And I am so sorry I wasn’t able to save Kaitlyn in time.”
“Your words mean nothing to me.” Heather still clung to my arms. “You’re a poison, London McKenna. You will destroy everything and everyone you touch.”
“If that’s what it takes to save an innocent life?” I didn’t let her twist away. My own tears mixed with hers. “Then I’ll destroy myself every time to save them.”
Because one day soon…
I’d work that hard to save myself.
Epilogue
I’ll never stop loving you.
-James
The bed wasn’t warm without James.
I rolled from under the blankets as the knocking rattled the house. I’d stocked each room with a gun in his absence, but it did nothing if I was too damn bleary-eyed to shoot it.
I checked out the window. A van pulled out of my driveway. Flower delivery?
Why couldn’t people send pancakes this early?
I managed to wobble down the stairs, but I stubbed my toe on a laundry basket that hadn’t made it to the basement. Or was it clean? Too early to tell or smell. I rubbed the pain from my big toe. What a way to treat it after leaving the hospital. I was just lucky all ten piggies made it home with me.
The Keurig popped on, and I let the water warm. I’d left my jacket on the ground. Didn’t have to worry about James tripping over it.
I bundled up and opened the door. I hated the cold. The flowers rested on the snowy porch. I frowned. Normally James cleared our walkways. I picked up the box but groaned as the electric clanking of the garbage truck echoed down the street. James usually took the garbage out too. I’d forgotten.
What the hell was I supposed to do without him?
I carried the flowers inside and dropped them on the table. My cell phone chimed.
James’ name popped up on the text.
Hey. Busy?
No. I had the week off of work and a lot of healing to do. But I hadn’t told him about the hospital. I didn’t think I would.
