Hidden (To Love A Killer #1)

by Lexie Ray

  “There’s a first aid kit under the sink,” said Ash to Hunter without so much as turning his head from Twitch.

  “In the bathroom?” she asked.

  “Kitchen, sorry,” he clarified. “Could you get it?”

  He didn’t even have to ask. Hunter had picked up on the implication and was in the kitchen looking for it immediately.

  Twitch squinted up at Ash through his one good eye, though it was also swollen badly and red from blows, ready to say something, but after a long moment of silence still no words came.

  As Ash looked down at him, he thought he caught Twitch looking surprised, maybe even shocked. Ash kneeled down in front of the little man.

  “Can you talk?” he asked delicately.

  Twitch nodded. It was clear he was saving his voice. His neck was black and blue. The bruises striped across his throat in thick horizontal bands. The men from New Hampshire had wanted Twitch dead. Ash knew beyond a shadow of a doubt judging by the rope marks around his friend’s neck.

  He also knew they had dumped him in the East River. They had probably thought he would die there, drowning.

  “That girl,” Twitch whispered, finally testing whether or not speaking would be too painful. “I know her. I know all of them.”

  Ash didn’t want to have to connect the dots for Twitch. It was more important that he recover. But that wasn’t going to be possible. Twitch knew Hunter, and the second she returned, Ash knew, she was going to realize that as well.

  Twitch shook his head, indicating that it hurt too much to talk. He needed a minute.

  Hunter approached with the first aid kit and handed it to Ash. The little man was staring up at her. His face looked smooth, very young, as though he was someone who probably wouldn’t be able to grow facial hair even if he tried. His mouth was round and his jaw narrow, almost feminine.

  “Remember me?” Twitch asked, having recovered his strength to once again speak. He directed the question at Hunter.

  Hunter continued to stare, but was confused at his familiarity with her. She didn’t think she remembered him from anywhere, but she worked at the coffee shop. It was possible she knew a lot of people.

  “I’m afraid I don’t,” she said, raising her eyebrows, trying to get a read on this kid.

  Ash rummaged through the kit, pulling out alcohol pads and other disinfectants.

  Twitch reached under the neckline of his shirt. His movements were slow and labored, as though it pained him to lift his arm. He winced when he reached deeper down and grunted lowly, as he pulled a long chain up and out from the fabric. Hunter watched as he extracted a necklace, until finally its pendant emerged. It was a bullet. It was exactly like hers.

  “Carolyn?” She asked in a whisper.

  Ash looked up, forgetting the importance of what he was doing.

  Twitch nodded. His eyes floated closed, then opened once again.

  “I thought you were dead,” said Hunter.

  “I was,” he said with a snort of laughter saturated in pain.

  “You cut off all your hair,” said Hunter as she kneeled down beside him, taking his hand, which was little, feminine.

  “It looks better this way,” he said. “You didn’t know I was a dyke?”

  Hunter smiled up at him, as it began to sink in that her childhood friend was alive. He had escaped, just like Hunter did. Hunter had so many questions.

  “When did you get out?” Hunter asked.

  “A year ago or so, I can’t remember. There was no sense of time in that place,” said Twitch, who immediately began coughing.

  After a few heaving coughs into his hand, he spat out blood. Hunter winced at the sight and headed for the bathroom to find a towel or at the very least some toilet paper to clean him up. She couldn’t believe anyone else had escaped. When she had a fresh roll in her hand from under the sink, Hunter turned back.

  “There are a lot of us that got out, Hunter,” he said, calling back towards the bathroom, as Ash wiped the antiseptic down his cheek. “We made it out. After you left, you know, it’s like we saw it was possible. You showed us it wasn’t impossible to escape, and we left.”

  Hunter paused, almost forgetting to hand Twitch the roll of toilet paper. She was blown away that anyone else had made it out.

  “That’s why they’re here,” Twitch went on. “They’re not just after you. They’re after all of us.”

  Ash rose to his feet once he had cleaned most of the blood off of his friends’ face and head. He locked eyes with Twitch, anticipating Hunter’s next question, and stared sharply at Twitch in hopes of conveying the importance of their loyalty to one another. This was not the time for Hunter to learn about how Ash knew Twitch, how they had met, and why they were friends. It would open a giant can of worms that no one was prepared to deal with. Twitch stared up at Ash, pursed his lips into a hard line, and gave a slight nod, imperceptible to Hunter.

  “Carolyn,” Hunter began, but Twitch interrupted her.

  “I go by Twitch now,” he said. “You can call me that. And you can think of me as a guy, because that’s what I am.”

  Hunter indicated she understood. She wasn’t about to judge how others chose to recover from the horrors of the farmhouse. It was possible Carolyn genuinely felt like a boy, and Hunter was sure that if hr said he was gay then he was, no question. But Hunter also knew that the human mind, a child’s mind, could come up with all sorts of beliefs in order to survive what was happening to them in that barn. It made sense, after those long nights of being violently raped, that a little girl would suddenly begin to think of herself as a boy, as a gender less vulnerable to that kind of assault. Hunter herself had believed she was a dog, a sad attempt to distance herself from the body that was being so viciously abused.

  “Twitch,” Hunter echoed. “I like that. It’s a good name for you.”

  Twitch smiled, “Thanks.”

  Hunter remembered her original question and got back on track. “How do you two know each other?”

  It was exactly what Ash didn’t need right now.

  “From the streets,” said Twitch matter-of-factly. “It’s a small world, girl. Case in point.” Twitch pointed between himself and Hunter, alluding to the fact that they were here in the same room and neither would’ve ever thought that was possible.

  Hunter seemed to be satisfied with that as far as Ash could tell. He watched her pluck his pack of cigarettes off the wooden table, which wobbled in response to the shift in weight.

  Hunter lit a smoke and offered the pack to both of them, but they declined.

  “Why were you in the alley outside?” She asked.

  “Looking for food. It’s hard out there,” said Twitch, lying. He was now growing nervous that Hunter was about to tally the coincidences and realize it all added up to a much bigger picture. Twitch felt Ash’s eyes on him, and he didn’t like the vibe he was getting.

  Ash needed to hear from Twitch everything he had learned from the men. He didn’t necessarily need Hunter to be involved in this, but the fact of the matter was that Hunter had become inextricably entangled in it all. He wasn’t sure it would be a good use of his mental energy to exclude her, feeding her half truths and hoping she wouldn’t connect the dots. But just before Ash was about to ask Twitch everything he needed to know, Hunter spoke up and did the asking for him.

  “What did the men from New Hampshire say? Did they tell you anything? Who came down here? How many of them are there?” The questions wouldn’t stop, but Hunter realized they needed to in order for Twitch to respond.

  It was a stroke of good luck for Ash that Hunter had taken the reigns like this. It helped him to stay hidden. It helped to conceal his true motivations. If she learned the truth, it would ruin anything they had. Ash would do anything to avoid destroying his relationship with Hunter. It had only just begun.

  Ash couldn’t help but smirk as it occurred to him that this girl was more perfect for him that he could’ve ever imagined. She was fitting in, like his other
half, and she didn’t even know it.

  Hunter pulled on her cigarette. The smoke filled her lungs. As she exhaled, she felt the nicotine hit her blood stream, making her jumpy, but clearheaded and on point. She wanted to ride this, learn everything she could. If the men from New Hampshire were in New York City, Hunter might have a shot at tracking them down and taking them out, one by one. She knew it was ambitious and far beyond anything she might be capable of. She knew it would be nothing but danger. Even Twitch almost lost his life when the men had caught up with him, but Hunter had to try. If there was one thing she had wanted to do since the day she left the farmhouse, if there was one thing she had been praying for ever since escaping the tortures of the barn, it was that the men would die. It was time now to hunt and kill. Meeting Ash had been the best coincidence in her life.

  “Take it easy,” said Twitch, whose voice sounded hoarse by now. He swallowed hard, eyeing Ash for silent instructions either to answer or stay quiet. Ash narrowed his gaze on Twitch, which told him to proceed, but to choose his words carefully. Twitch could also see in Ash’s eyes that he too wanted to know the real deal. So Twitch began to answer as best he could. “There were two guys. They drove a dark sedan, but I didn’t catch the make. It had New Hampshire plates, though. Not too many of those around.”

  “Who were the guys?” Hunter asked, nearly jumping down his throat.

  Twitch held her gaze for a long moment, then responded, “Dale and Travis.”

  Hunter’s breath clipped in her throat, remembering those men, remembering the dark and heinous things they had done to her in the barn. She realized she was grinding her teeth, grimacing with disgust.

  “They were looking for Thomas,” Twitch went on. “That’s why they beat me. They thought I knew where he was.”

  “He’s dead,” said Hunter with an edge of satisfaction. “He broke into my apartment. I was going to shoot him, but Ash got to him first. But he’s dead. They should all be dead,” Hunter directed that last part to Ash.

  “Did they say anything else?” she asked again eager to know everything as soon as possible. “Did they say where they were staying?”

  “No,” said Twitch.

  Hunter had begun to pace. She felt agitated, on edge. She sucked on her cigarette, drawing in puff after puff almost without exhaling.

  “Hunter, you need to calm down,” said Ash in a concerned tone.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” she snapped. “They need to die, Ash. All of them need to die.”

  “No one disagrees,” said Twitch. “but they could be halfway home by now. We don’t know where they are, Hunter.”

  “They’re not headed home,” she said, almost to herself. “They’re still here. I can feel it. They’re going to take me if we don’t do something.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” said Ash who grabbed her shoulders, preventing her from pacing further. She was making him nervous. “But we can’t go off half cocked.”

  “They know where I live. They’ll be back here,” said Hunter, thinking out loud. “Should we wait for them? Ambush them the next time they come?”

  Ash took a deep breath, considering it. He knew that even though Hunter’s apartment was covered with traces of the murder, there was no way the landlord would go inside. And since the men were from New Hampshire and not New York, no one would file a missing person’s report on Thomas, least of all Dale and Travis who were breaking the law left and right anyway. But Ash wasn’t sure that would be the best course of action. Her apartment and his were the least safe places in the city. And after what had happened to Twitch, the way he had been left for dead in the East River, Ash wasn’t willing to take any risks.

  “Well?” Hunter asked. “Does that sound like a plan?”

  Ash said nothing.

  “Is it too passive?” She asked. “How many other girls are here in the city?”

  Twitch lifted his gaze, squinting through his swollen eyes. “Five or so. They run with some street kids around the Gowanus, but I don’t exactly know where they are staying. They move around a lot. They’re pretty scared.”

  It made sense to Hunter that any of the girls who made it down this far would wind up in the Gowanus. That’s where she had gone. She had slept in the sugar factory for a good long while. She understood the feeling of never feeling safe. She understood why the girls would keep on the move. As rough as Brooklyn was, nothing compared to the wrath of the men from the farmhouse. When Hunter had been living on the streets, she would’ve preferred to get attacked by street thugs and stay hidden than she would to get caught and brought back up north.

  “Do you think the men will go looking for them?” asked Hunter.

  “Yeah,” said Ash. “They couldn’t find you here. Maybe they think you joined the other girls.”

  “Wouldn’t they still be looking for Thomas?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so,” said Twitch. “Thomas was a pawn. I’m not sure they cared about him. They only wanted to find him because they thought it would lead to you.” Twitch paused for a long moment, then asked,“Why are they gunning for you, Hunter? They want you more than anyone else. They don’t give a shit about me, or that I’m down here, escaped. They don’t want you dead, Hunter. They want you alive. They want you to go back. Why?”

  Hunter’s heart stopped beating. A memory flooded through her mind. Then with a hard pound, her heart started racing uncontrollably in her chest. Flashes of the farmhouse swirled through her head, images of the barn spinning in and out of her mind. She could still hear the cries, see the blood. Her stomach lurched, churning with raw disgust.

  “Because,” she said, “they caught me once.” Her voice trailed off, as her vision softened, losing focus.

  It was as if Hunter was slipping away before his very eyes.

  “Caught you doing what?” Twitch asked in a low whisper, already terrified to hear the answer.

  “A mercy killing.”

  Chapter Six

  It was sweltering. The sun was high in the sky overhead. There was no escaping the heat. No matter which side of the street Molly walked on, the sun’s burning rays beat down on her. She hadn’t showered in days, and the oily scent of her hair was overwhelmingly foul. The smell seemed to thrive in the heat, festering in the sunlight. As soon as she found food and reconnected with Devon and the girls, she would pool resources and find a way to get a shower. Living like this wasn’t working anymore. She hated the way she stank.

  Molly pulled her ratty blond hair up into a ponytail to alleviate her damp neck from the unnecessary hot mop of hair that had covered it all afternoon. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of that sooner. As soon as she secured the ponytail, she felt considerably better.

  She caught sight of her hands after lowering them from her head. Her skin was dirty. It was as though soot and grease had stained deeply into each pore. Her fingernails were black. She knew she looked dingy. It was impossible to stay clean out here, rummaging through trash barrels, hoping to find something to eat.

  She hooked a right, turning down a side street that arched over a canal just ahead. These canals were creepy. Whenever Molly walked over the streets that bridged above the water, she couldn’t help but look down. She didn’t know how deep the canal was, how many feet of water. She hoped very deep. Judging by the water’s surface, which was black and slick with oil, the canal should be well over twenty feet. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was only a few feet? That would mean the water was nothing but sludge. For a split second she envisioned a hand bursting through its surface, reaching up for dear life. But it was only her imagination. She had turned dark ever since moving here. Grotesque images often filled her mind. She couldn’t help it.

  She got moving again, and soon crossed over to the intersection and hooked another right, this time down a side alley. The alleys were where dumpsters were located. The dumpsters were their greatest hope for food.

  Her jeans clung mercilessly to her legs. She wished she had
a way of cutting them into shorts, but Devon had said it would be best if she didn’t. At least the jeans would protect her from life on the streets, sparing her the superficial cuts and lacerations that would surely come from dumpster diving barelegged.

  Molly had hated New Hampshire, but in a lot of ways roughing it in the Gowanus was no improvement, except that she had her freedom. But how free was she really? Some nights when she and Devon had nearly starved with hunger, she had gone off with a man for money. It always seemed easy enough. She had done it a million times. But still, she wasn’t sure she had really made it out of the farmhouse. She was still living like she had when she was there.

  Devon didn’t see it that way, which both annoyed and inspired Molly. Her friend kept reminding her that life on the street was temporary. Soon they would have a little money saved and get an apartment together. They would get some kind of job, something simple, like working as maids at a hotel, or as bussers in a restaurant, anything. If there was one thing Devon was good at, it was keeping their spirits high. Molly wouldn’t have made it this far without her.

  The dumpsters were straight ahead. Devon had promised to meet up after doing some trades at the sugar factory a few blocks down. Molly didn’t love being separated from Devon, but they had worked out a system of reconnecting without too much of a headache. It always boiled down to not moving, staying put, no matter how long she had to wait. Devon would eventually come.

  For some reason, Molly had a strange feeling today that something would go terribly wrong.

  She lifted the lid up from the first dumpster, pushing it back hard until it banged against the brick building behind it. Molly paused a second to make sure the lid wasn’t about to slap back down. The last thing she needed was to get hit in the head and knocked unconscious in a dumpster. But the lid seemed to stay, so she hoisted herself up and climbed in.