In the Air Tonight

by Stephanie Tyler

  “The coroner said Gray was cold, Cael. He’d been dead for hours. Maybe a full day. There was nothing you could’ve done. You were waiting to take your chance.”

  It was true. He’d been lucky to wake up at all. They’d never meant him to, had tried—and failed—to turn him into some kind of monster.

  “You saved me then. Just like you saved Paige tonight. And Vivi, before that. I hope to hell I never have to return the favor, but I would,” Mace said. Cael heard the swell of emotion behind his voice and leaned forward to clap his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “We go forward from here,” he said.

  “Forward,” Mace repeated, and he meant it.

  ——

  Paige slept a little—she’d made Doc only give her half a dose of pain meds because she didn’t want to be out of it. She was still too on edge and the thought of sleeping made her uneasy.

  It was still crazy downstairs. She heard the chaos, clear as day, but it was comforting. She wasn’t alone. But was she finally safe?

  According to Vivi, Carole Ann had been the mastermind, putting Adrienne up to following Paige here—Vivi had managed to break into a password-protected message board as well as the women’s email addresses. The police in various states had been notified of the other women Carole Ann had messaged as well, although they couldn’t do anything unless they actually committed a crime.

  She crawled out from under Mace’s comforter, still a bit groggy and disoriented. She hadn’t yet wrapped her mind around the fact that the woman who had been the closest thing she’d had to a friend in years had set her up like that.

  The poor thing was delusional too—waiting for Jeffrey to arrive in the woods like that.

  Carole Ann knew who you were all along.

  She shook that thought from her mind, unable to deal with it now. Instead, she padded to the bathroom. She’d changed out of her wet clothes into a fresh pair of sweats when she’d come upstairs, since her clothes had been covered in blood and mud.

  According to Ed, they were evidence. So they were in a pile on the bathroom floor, waiting for him to retrieve them.

  She stared into the mirror—the ligature mark was raw, red … so fresh. All she should’ve felt was relief.

  But she didn’t.

  You’re still hyped up. Probably an adrenaline thing, a refusal to crash yet. As she splashed her face and neck and wrists with cold water, she tried to convince herself of that.

  Carole Ann had been watching her for the past several months. Jeffrey had told her what to do and when to do it. Love could make people do strange things but coupled with her brother’s ability to manipulate, his girlfriend’s love had been twisted beyond the pale.

  And again, so much blood had been spilled because of her. More guilt that she would need to carry with her—another mess she couldn’t clean up before it overflowed onto innocent people.

  Dizzy, she sat on the closed toilet seat and dropped her head between her legs.

  It’s not over.

  Unsure from where—or why—that thought came to her, she glanced at the wet, bloody clothing and saw something sticking out of one of the back pockets of her jeans. She leaned forward and reached in to pull out a small medal, similar to the one Arthur had been holding when he’d been killed.

  It’s not over, Paige. It’ll never be over. Not as long as I have breath in my body.

  She was holding another one of Jeffrey’s St. Christopher medals and repeating his words—his thoughts—out loud. She dropped the medal and it landed on the tile floor with a swift clatter.

  That noise ended quickly. The noise inside her head didn’t follow suit. Couldn’t.

  She’d touched evil again and again. It had seeped in slowly, relentlessly, and it was refusing to leave. But even though she’d made peace with the fact that she’d never be normal, she didn’t want Jeffrey’s legacy to follow her forever.

  She stood and headed out, swung the bathroom door open and stared. There was no shock or surprise at what was on the other side of it. Only numbness about what was to come.

  How much more could she endure?

  It’s not over.

  “It’s not over till I say it’s over,” Jeffrey said, with just the trace of a smile.

  The chaos was finally waning. Reid packed Cael, Vivi and the doc into Mace’s truck to take them to the hospital, after Doc assured Mace that Paige was fine.

  “Medical professionals make the worst patients. Second only to soldiers,” he said with a smile as they drove off.

  Keagen had gotten the last of the people out of the bar and was currently parked at the bottom of the main road, stopping any more curious visitors. He told Ed he’d wait for the state troopers and would escort them up to the bar.

  And then Mace’s phone rang, and Ed was telling him, “There’s a problem.”

  “Another one?” Mace muttered.

  “You haven’t checked your phone,” Ed continued. “The warden’s been trying to reach you. Jeffrey’s escaped.”

  “Escaped how?”

  “He was complaining of abdominal pain—the nurse on staff at the hospital was convinced his appendix had burst. Once inside the hospital, he managed to get out,” Ed explained. “He had a gun and they think the nurse was in on the escape. They can’t find her either. The hospital went into lockdown while they searched for both of them. They didn’t find Jeffrey, but they found the nurse a mile away. She’d been killed.”

  “By Jeffrey,” Mace said.

  Ed nodded. “That’s the theory anyway. The warden called the station a few hours ago—he didn’t want this to get out and cause a panic.”

  “So Jeffrey could’ve been in the woods, just like Carole Ann said.”

  “Yes. You’re at risk.”

  “No,” Mace said evenly. “He’s at risk. Let him try something. It’ll be the last time you’ll have to deal with him. I promise.”

  “I have to stay at the hospital with Carole Ann until the state police come to collect her,” he said. “Will you and Paige be all right there?”

  “We’d probably be safer at a hotel or something, but I don’t want to risk being on the road with him on the loose,” Mace said.

  “Maybe Keagen can ask a few of his OA friends to keep watch around the property,” Ed suggested. “I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, you’d better break the news to Paige. And lock up.”

  When Ed left, it was finally dead quiet. Mace locked the doors and set the alarm—he’d sent Reid off with a set of keys so that he could get inside later. But for now, he didn’t need anyone dropping in unannounced.

  He grabbed his Sig and tucked it into the back of his jeans. And then he headed up the stairs to talk to Paige.

  That’s when the quiet began to unnerve him.

  He looked, noticed that the bathroom door was open and the light was on. Was about to close the door when he spotted a glint in the corner on the tile. Walked over and found himself staring at a St. Christopher medal.

  He picked it up and turned it over in his fingers. It was similar in size and shape to the one he’d found the other day … but it wasn’t the same. That medal was at Ed’s station, locked away as evidence.

  Paige’s words echoed in his ears.

  He was a saint—and then they took that away. That made him really angry.

  Jeffrey was still angry.

  He moved silently, checking all the rooms, knowing he wouldn’t find Paige there. He kept calm, as per his training, tamping down the panic in favor of action. There was no way for Jeffrey to sneak her down the stairs during the chaos. Which left one place.

  Mace’s favorite hiding spot when he first moved here.

  He was pretty sure Jeffrey would’ve brought Paige up the side steps.

  He was also pretty sure Jeffrey wouldn’t have known about the side hatch door that led through the crawl space.

  There was no time to call anyone and so Mace undid his boots and took off his socks, and—moving as silently as he did through
jungles—he crept toward his prey.

  Besides, this time, he wasn’t helpless. He would make Paige’s nightmare go away, once and for all.

  ——

  She was in the attic with Jeffrey—and no one knew he was here, or that she was in danger. Mace was giving statements and dealing with the crowds … and she was facing her ultimate nightmare alone.

  This was the way it had to be.

  “It’s so nice to see you twice in one week, Paige. Like Carole Ann said, family’s important.” Her brother wore a new flannel shirt and jeans—she wondered if he’d stolen them or if Carole Ann had provided them for him.

  “How did you get here?”

  “I was sick, Paige. And a nice nurse helped me out. Because that’s what nurses do, right?” He cocked his head and twisted his mouth into a frown. “It was a perfect plan … and she was all too willing to help. Most women are. Except for you. I tried and I tried, but you never wanted to.”

  She wanted to tell him he was always beyond help, but she knew that would agitate him even more. He appeared much more wound up and unstable than he had just days earlier at the prison, and she wondered if he’d stopped taking his meds after her visit.

  No, this escape had to have been well planned. “You were coming here no matter what … whether I visited you or not.”

  “I figured you were too much of a goody-goody not to come after hearing my message.”

  “Why now?”

  “People had started to forget me. I was a footnote. Losing respect. A book and an interview wouldn’t be enough.” He paused. “You knew I was in the woods just now, watching you. You felt me there. We were always really connected.”

  She fought an outward shudder as he moved forward and caressed her shoulder.

  “You could’ve helped me, Paige, at the trial.”

  “Mom and Dad bought you the best defense money could buy,” she told him. “You were found guilty because you are guilty.”

  Jeffrey shrugged like it didn’t mean anything, because to him it didn’t. It was a mere annoyance, a fly in the ointment.

  That’s all the murders were to him.

  “Why did you torture me all those years?” she asked. If she could keep him talking, it would buy her time. She could make him feel all important, because he was the one with the gun pointed at her. “If you hated me that much, why didn’t you just kill me?”

  “I’ll answer you, but first, on your knees, Paige.” He motioned for her to move and she had no choice, knelt in front of him.

  “I wanted to kill you, so badly, but I needed you more. You were my cue card,” he said. And she finally understood. In fact, during the court procedings, every time she cried, he would bring himself to tears as well. The jury just didn’t buy it.

  “Mom and Dad were scared shitless of what they’d created,” he said with an unmatched glee, as if it made him proud. “They weren’t that blind. I used to hear them talking about me at night. What are we going to do with him?”

  “What did they want to do?” she asked as calmly as she possibly could; Jeffrey had just put the barrel of his gun to her forehead.

  I should’ve known.

  “Dad thought it was boy stuff, that I’d grow out of it. Mom wanted me put away somewhere—she was starting to believe you, but not enough. I wanted them to know how much power I had. I wanted a blaze of glory, and now I’ll live forever in the annals of history. I wasn’t about to waste my time with petty shit. I wanted something big—and I wanted you to know I was serious.”

  She’d known—God, she’d known—and she’d been terrifed, had forgotten just how much until now, kneeling, in front of him with no barrier and no one to protect her.

  He had turned the lights off, surely, to make this more terrifying, like when he used to search for her and she’d have to hide in a dark closet, praying he wouldn’t find her.

  Fear lodged in her throat.

  Time had made him smarter. Meaner. He was ready to finish the job.

  You’ll get out of this alive. “I know a lot about family.”

  “We’ll see how much you’ve learned.” He smiled. “By the way, if you’re waiting for your friends to save you, keep waiting. The one who came with you to the jail … he went down so easily. Didn’t expect me at all, because you really didn’t warn him. You didn’t think I could escape. Thought you were safe.”

  The screaming was loud, so loud that she couldn’t hear Jeffrey’s laughter, just saw him throw his head back, saw the mirth in his eyes.

  It was only then that she realized the screaming wasn’t only coming from inside her head. When her throat went raw and nothing else came out, she knew he’d nearly broken her.

  She summoned what remaining strength she had left and prepared to save her own life. Because Mace would never go down without a fight—and neither would she, if for no other reason than to honor him. “I don’t believe you.”

  All she could manage was a whisper.

  “I thought you knew by now not to doubt me.”

  “You’d want to watch me suffer while you killed him.” Keep him talking. Mace will come to save you.

  “Carole Ann’s hurt,” she blurted out, hoping to distract him.

  “I don’t care if she’s dead. Carole Ann would do anything I asked her to do,” he said ruthlessly. “The bitch should’ve waited for me. That was the plan, to take you away from here. Your friend got in the way.”

  Caleb. He’d been through so much because of her. They all had. And the thought of them getting killed by her brother …

  No. She didn’t believe it.

  Jeffrey was still talking. “You used to hide in your room with the door bolted. You were always so scared. I could’ve gotten to you anytime … but I liked the thought of you in there, terrified. Alone. Waiting for me.”

  He was closer—too close—and she closed her eyes and balled her fists instinctively. He took the gun away from her forehead and his hands were on her then, forcing her fingers open to the point of pain.

  He laughed when she cried out and she wondered if this was the way it was meant to be, that she’d been meant to suffer and die by Jeffrey’s hands.

  She pushed at him, but she was still on her knees and had no leverage. He slammed her against the wall, her head knocking against the wooden slats hard enough to momentarily disorient her.

  The medication she’d taken earlier wasn’t helping either. When she opened her eyes again, everything seemed hazy, and Jeffrey was putting one of her hands palm down against his. “My hands are meant for killing. Yours are meant to relive it for me. A perfect pair, if you’d been willing to help.”

  “I’d never help you,” she said groggily.

  “See what I’ve done, Sis?”

  She did—waves of violence and pain radiated from him, the images too sick for her mind to take in. Flashes of him torturing people—she felt their utter fear and heard their screams—their screams were the worst. It was as if the man had a living hell inside of him and was dragging her down with him.

  “I can’t … please …” She was begging, trying to pull her hand away. Finally, she succeeded, because he released her.

  He was laughing and the screaming continued inside her head. She picked up the thing nearest to her and flung it at her brother—it was an old wooden box, and he ducked it easily.

  And then he came for her again.

  She was about to fight for her life, when a crashing sound made Jeffrey turn his head. Instinctively, she ducked down to the floor, and heard the shots—two of them, in rapid succession … and then there was only quiet.

  CHAPTER

  22

  Mace pulled Paige as far away from Jeffrey as he could, sat with her on the old attic floor, with the smell of dust and blood around them, and waited for her initial shock to wear off.

  He was sure the sounds of the shots still rang in her ears—they did in his, thanks to the close quarters. Across the floor, the remains of his childhood were scattered out in the open,
and he didn’t give a shit—because Paige was safe.

  With her wrapped tightly in his arms, on his lap, Mace willed himself to fucking relax. He was wound so tight—too tight—and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over.

  It’s just because it’s all gone on so long. This is a normal reaction.

  Yeah, if he repeated that to himself a million times, maybe he’d believe it.

  Jeffrey had gone down with two bullets—one to the head, one to the heart. One would’ve sufficed, but the man had been sent from hell and Mace wanted to make doubly sure he ended up back there.

  For a long time they stayed in the one place Mace had always counted on to protect him, Paige remained mutely in his arms, both of them quiet.

  “Mace,” she whispered finally, touched a palm to his face. “It’s over—really over.” He felt his throat tighten when she gave a small smile and the color returned to her cheeks.

  “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “You said you’d take care of me … and you did.” She paused. “Now it’s my turn.”

  With that, Mace carried her down the steps and into the bar, only taking his hands off her to call for Ed.

  Ed came with Doc to collect Jeffrey’s body, followed closely by Reid, Caleb and Vivi. Paige got up to look at her brother one last time before Doc took him away, zipped inside a body bag.

  “It’s over,” she’d whispered. “It’s really over.”

  Ed left a little while later, and the five of them remained in the bar. It was well after four in the morning, but none of them wanted to go to bed. Vivi put on coffee and Reid scrounged up some junk food from the kitchen. Their collective nervous energy soon turned into a sugar rush—which led to an adrenaline crash.

  A phone rang, cutting through the silence.

  “It’s mine,” Caleb said. “It’s Kell,” he said after looking at the caller ID, and clicked on the speakerphone button, so everyone could hear. “Kell, where are you?”

  Silence, and then, “Why the hell am I on speaker, Caleb. You know I hate speaker.”

  Mace smiled, Reid laughed out loud, and Caleb said, “Because your team is here, man, and we’ve had a hell of a night.”