“Get this fucking thing off,” he demanded just as her hands went to the clasp. As she opened it, he added, “Or I’ll rip it off you.”
Livvy squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see any more, not wanting to see her breasts naked and exposed.
“Your pants,” he said. Abruptly he released her, and she staggered back a step. Her eyes opened, and she saw his hand go to his own zipper, tugging his shirt over his head, getting frustrated when the collar got stuck against his chin. He ripped it off and worked at his jeans, jamming them down over his narrow hips. He wore plaid that looked too small for him, that hugged against his white, hairless stomach. He looked younger than some of the boys in her class did, at the pool, but Livvy knew it was all an illusion, that he had done things and seen things and knew things that none of those boys did.
Because Ryan was not a boy; no matter what he looked like, he was a man. He was a dangerous man and he was going to do dangerous things to her and it would be nothing like it had been with Sean.
Ryan yanked at his boxer shorts and Livvy looked away; she didn’t want to see. She was backing toward the door, her hands scrabbling behind her for the desk, trying to remember what was on it, anything she could throw or hurt him with but all her seeking hands found was the chair. You couldn’t hurt anybody with a flat little chair cushion, that was for sure, and Ryan was making some weird sound in his throat and his hand reached inside his pants.
“You want a taste?” he asked, grinning. “You’ll like it. Got some sugar for you right here. Come get on your knees, girl, I’ll show you what to do.”
Livvy’s hands were behind her now, the back of her thighs pressed against the chair, her fingers skittering over pens, her chem book, the case that held the glasses she was supposed to wear for reading but never did. The case was hard plastic, and she thought about throwing it, but it was next to nothing; you couldn’t kill a bug with it.
Her fingertip nudged something cold and hard. The mug her friend Paige got her when Seether played Mill City, shiny black with the letters like they were made out of bones. Livvy kept her pens and pencils in it. She slipped her fingers into the handle and threw it as hard as she could, and it cracked against Ryan’s face.
The doorbell rang.
Ryan yelled fuck and stumbled sideways, his hands going to his forehead where the mug hit him. Livvy grabbed the doorknob and twisted the lock. Sometimes the door stuck, but not this time. It flew open and bounced against her dresser. She crashed into the edge of the door, hitting her ribs and knocking the breath from herself. If she’d opened the door with a little less force, she would have been out and down the hall and at the front door before anyone else could get there. But instead she had to grab the door frame to keep from falling down. She was halfway through the door and into the hall when Ryan grabbed her arm. He yanked it so hard she went down, skull bouncing off the door, hip hitting the edge.
“You bitch, you filthy fucking cunt,” he screamed while he yanked up his pants.
The doorbell rang again, and there was the sound of running, heavy steps on bare wood. Livvy could see Dan standing halfway up the stairs, his mouth open and panting.
Ryan had her by the hair; he was pulling her up with it. Livvy stumbled to her feet, covering her bare breasts. Ryan pushed her into the hall, not letting go.
“Dave!” Dan said, in the very same tone her dad used on her when he was really angry. But who was Dave?
“I’m getting this door,” Dan growled. “Get that girl dressed and stay upstairs. I’m coming up after. You put one hand on her and I swear I’ll break your fucking neck.”
And to Livvy’s amazement, Ryan let go of her hair. Whatever was between them, whoever Dan was to Ryan, he was still a little afraid of him. The way he’d been in her room earlier, the underwear, the sneer on his face when he was threatening Dan, that’s who he was now, she could see that. Pure mean and pure bad and smarter than he looked.
Dan yelled at Ryan and hesitated just long enough to give Livvy one second. One second to run.
She took the stairs full speed, bracing herself with her hand on the banister, bare feet slapping on the wood. She came at Dan with her arms grabbing, pulling at him. She was naked on top but she didn’t care.
The ringing had turned to knocking, the brass ring against the door hollow and thunking. “Jen?” It was a thin voice—Aunt Tanya. Jake sent his mom. She hadn’t called the cops; she’d come by herself instead.
Dan lifted his hand, and for a second she thought he was going to smack her across the face but he just pushed it flat over her mouth. “Do not say one fucking word,” he muttered, quiet and furious. He started dragging her, one hand on her mouth and one on the back of her neck, down the hall toward the basement door. Livvy struggled against him, her feet slipping on the slick wood surface and her fingers clawing at his hand over her mouth, but he was much stronger than she would have thought, hands like iron for an old guy. He kept talking as they went, voice low and angry. “You stay down here and keep quiet. So fucking quiet, I don’t want to hear a word, not a sound. You hear me? Or I’ll give you right back to Ryan and tell him to do whatever he wants with you, you understand?”
Livvy was crying, snot dripping down onto Dan’s rough knuckled hand. She tried to nod but she couldn’t, not with the grip he had on her. “If you mess this up,” he continued, “I will come down the stairs and I will hurt your mother and then I will give you to Ryan. I have had just about enough of this, and I won’t have it. I won’t have it. I will wash my hands of you, every damn one of you.”
They had arrived at the door, and Dan took his hand off her face to turn the key. Even with only one hand Dan managed to keep her still and quiet, his fingers and thumb pinching into the back of her neck like it was nothing more than a rag, squeezing the tendons so she gasped. As he opened the door he gave an extra squeeze, and Livvy’s vision went gray and flickering, the air cut off to her brain, little choking sounds coming out of her.
He pushed her through the door. Hands grabbed her, and her mother’s frantic voice shouted “Livvy, Livvy” and then the door shut and the key twisted. Her mother wrapped her arms around her and Livvy hugged back hard, crying and gulping for air.
“Are you all right?” her mother asked when she caught her breath, and Livvy was trying to say yes, that he hadn’t hurt her, he hadn’t done anything to her. She had gotten away before anything really bad could happen. Even though she would never forget the memory of his hands on her skin.
“I hit him with my mug,” she finally managed to choke out, but her mother just kept asking if she was okay. Finally she grabbed her mother’s hands and squeezed them hard.
“I’m okay,” she said, catching her breath. “How’s Dad?”
But her mother just held her tighter, sobbing into her hair.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jen finally managed to catch her breath. “Were the police at the door?”
“No, Mom. It’s Aunt Tanya—”
“Tanya’s here?” Jen should have known the plan would never work, that whatever Jake told Tanya, she would come here to check it out for herself. And now Tanya was stuck with them, sucked into this nightmare, and it was her fault for letting Livvy try something so desperate and doomed to failure.
She had to keep her daughter from going down the stairs, because Ted was down there, and Ted was dead. He had died in her arms. There was no way Jen was going to let her baby girl see that, her girl who had already been through so much. Ryan sickened her, and if Jen was given the smallest opportunity, she would kill him for what he’d done.
It was all too much: her husband was dead, her baby was missing, her sister was about to walk into a nightmare and she had failed to protect her daughter. From the start, Dan had promised an orderly resolution, a simple transaction from which they’d all walk away. Instead, Jen’s world was shattered, and all that w
as left was for her to die, too.
Through her agony, she heard her sister’s voice, muffled by the door.
“Jennie! Oh, my God, Jennie, what is going on?”
Dan said something Jen couldn’t make out, and then Tanya cried out, her screams high and unintelligible.
All Jen could do was to pull her daughter close and try to cover her ears. In the next second, someone opened the door and pushed Tanya through. She fell into the wall, as the door slammed shut. Jen grabbed for Tanya to prevent her from falling down the stairs.
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Tanya said but Jen couldn’t speak, and somehow the roles all shifted. Tanya gathered her and Livvy into her arms, and there was a shadow of a memory, another time when Tanya had held her like this. Another time when Jen was sobbing so hard that she couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, and Tanya had saved her. No, that wasn’t exactly right. Tanya had...she had helped her, or found her, or—the past was getting all tangled up together with the present.
“We’re going down the stairs now,” Tanya said firmly. She supported Jen on one side and Livvy took the other. They went down the stairs in a tight scrum, the three of them clutching each other, Tanya making sure they didn’t fall, that everything would be all right.
“Don’t let Livvy see,” Jen whispered and Livvy twisted her body, trying so hard to look, but Tanya was stronger. She’d always been strong, a wiry alley cat. She’d only lasted one year on the cheerleading squad before she was kicked out for what happened after Homecoming, but during that year she’d done all the most dangerous stunts, held up girls heavier than she was, supporting their weight on her hard, knotted shoulders.
At the bottom of the stairs, Tanya took off her coat and helped Livvy into it, zipping it up over her bare torso. She didn’t ask where Livvy’s shirt was. Between the two of them, she and Jen got her over to the couch, shielding her from a view of Ted. But Jen had seen his body lying on the floor, curled like a letter c, his hand still clutching his wound. And she knew that Tanya had seen him, too.
“Mom—” Livvy gasped for air. Jen rubbed her back and exchanged a look with Tanya. Her sister’s face was pale as paper, her eyes wide and questioning. “What happened to Dad? Tell me. Please, I have to know.”
“Oh, honey...”
“He’s dead, isn’t he? Dan killed him. Dan did it, didn’t he?”
Jen hesitated, wishing she could keep the truth from her, that she could send her daughter back forty-eight hours into the fairy tale of Before, into the dumb luck good fortune of the life they never appreciated enough. She would happily give up her own life, if she could make things right for Livvy.
But that wasn’t possible. And now, her job was to let go of everything they couldn’t ever have again, and seize hard on what was left. What was left was her children and now her sister, a ragged and desperate cohort. Jen wanted to sink to the floor and fade away, but instead she had to be like Tanya: strong and fearless.
She swallowed, her throat raw. “Livvy...yes. Dan shot Daddy when he was trying to get help.”
Livvy made a sound that broke Jen’s heart: a wretched exhalation of grief and loss that sounded much too old to come from her baby girl.
“Daddy was brave and he was strong and he was going to get help, just like you went to get help. I am so proud of you both. I won’t ever be able to tell you that enough, honey. You and Daddy did everything you could because you’re fighters and you are strong and you are better than—so much better than these monsters. And that’s why we’re going to...”
She faltered, because what were they going to do, exactly? What reserves did they have left, what weapons to fight against the evil upstairs? She’d thought Dan could be reasoned with, but he’d proved to be just as reckless and dangerous as Ryan. They’d used all their wild cards, and all they had managed to do was ensnare Tanya, too, and now she was trapped in the same bloody, deadly web.
If only Jen could just lie down next to Ted and die with him. It was too hard—it had all been too hard, not just the invasion but the days leading up to it, the family that seemed to splinter a little more every day despite all her efforts to keep them together, the love that had escaped her marriage like smoke carried away on the wind, the sweetness of the babies she’d held in her arms. The past that never seemed to leave her but never came into focus, a shroud that prevented the joy from getting close enough to take hold of. The losses—her mother, her father, even her sister, all slipping away from her when she had tried to hold them tight. Wouldn’t it be best to just let it end, to go where the dead go?
But she couldn’t, and the reason was Livvy, holding on to her so tightly that she could feel the outline of every one of her daughter’s fingers against her back. And Teddy, out there somewhere. She would give everything for her children. She would find the strength; she would find the courage.
“We’re going to get out of this,” Tanya said, finishing the sentence that Jen had started.
“I’m sorry,” Livvy wailed. “It’s my fault. I thought Jakey would tell you to call the police, I never thought that you would—”
“He did, honey. He did exactly what you asked him to,” Tanya said. “You both did perfect. It was me...it was my fault. I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just making things up, trying to get out of homework. But I’ve been calling you guys, I called your mom’s cell yesterday, and I kept getting voice mail on the house phone, and, well, I just thought... So I left Jake next door with Mrs. Bassett and then I came over here.”
Jen put her hand over her sister’s and squeezed. Their eyes met and Tanya nodded faintly, letting her know it was okay. She was taking care of Jen even now, even after all these years.
Somewhere along the line, Jen had lost faith in Tanya. But Tanya had never wavered in her faith in Jen.
“I’m here now,” Tanya said, squeezing Jen’s hand back. “I’m here, and that makes three of us, three brave strong women. Now tell me what the hell’s going on, and we’ll figure out what to do.”
* * *
Jen told the story quickly, leaving out the details she didn’t want Livvy to hear. Tanya winced when Jen told her about Teddy, her eyes darting to the window wells, inky dark now.
“And you think he’s at your friend’s house?” she asked softly. “If he got away when you were at the bank—I mean, honey, that’s more than twelve hours. Wouldn’t she have come over here by now to see what was going on?”
“She’s probably called a bunch of times.”
Jen told Tanya about the bank account, the money she kept sitting there in a vain attempt to feel safe, a notion that now struck her as so ridiculous that it was no wonder Ted had teased her about it all those years.
“But I don’t understand what happened to the money,” Tanya said when she got to the part about the bank visit. “It was just gone?”
Jen nodded. “It had to do with the construction,” she lied, aware of Livvy watching her. “He had to cover the cabinetry and...all those expenses.”
Jen could tell that Tanya knew she was lying, but she played along for Livvy’s sake. “Yeah, that makes sense. And then you got the transfer lined up, so tomorrow...”
“I don’t know. I mean, I guess...in theory we could still do it like we said we would. Me and Dan could go back to the bank. We could get the money.”
Which would mean leaving Livvy here with Ryan. And Tanya, yes, but all Ryan had to do was take her daughter upstairs again and do whatever he wanted. He would be angry now, frustrated, vengeful, brimming with whatever poisoned brand of bile he carried.
He and Dan were unpredictable. Really, what were the odds that they could pull off a trip to the bank tomorrow? Even if Dan let Jen fix herself up, even if she could disguise her emotions with makeup and clean clothes and pull off a convincing performance...it would never work. There was a wildness in Dan’s eyes, a grim r
ealization that everything was fucked up. Fucked up on a cataclysmic scale, and what did guys like that do in situations like this? You only had to turn the TV on, any of those action movies Ted liked, to understand that when the chips were down the bad guys cut their losses, they left their dead, they got the hell out of Dodge.
“If I were them, I would be figuring out what I could take with me,” Tanya said. “I’d be looking around the house and taking everything that was worth anything that could fit in the cars. And I’d be doing it fast.”
“Because the longer you’re gone...”
“Yeah, for all they know I have a husband at home, people wondering where I went. Maybe I told my husband I wouldn’t be gone long, and now he’s worried about me. Or maybe I really did call the cops.”
“So maybe they’ll just go,” Livvy said hopefully.
“Honey.” Jen gently stroked her daughter’s hair. “Maybe you’re right—maybe they’ll decide that this has gone far enough and they have to look out for their own best interests, and they’ll leave. But we have to be ready for the possibility that they won’t. That they...”
“That they come down here and kill us,” Livvy said flatly.
“Oh, sweetie, no,” Jen protested, both her and Tanya pressing closer, protecting her the only way they could. “Not that.”
“But it’s true, Mom. Dan’s DNA is all over the house, but Ryan knows where it all is, and if they clean it up, they can still get out without leaving any proof it was them. But if they let us live we can ID them.”
“Baby, no...” But Jen knew it was true.
“Like Aunt Tanya said, they have to be worried about someone knowing she’s here. They’ve already killed Dad—” Livvy’s voice caught as she said it, but she swallowed hard and continued, her words running together fast. “And Ryan’s, like, crazy so you have to figure they aren’t going to think twice about killing anyone else.”
“So we have to be smarter than them now,” Tanya said grimly. “And stronger. It’s all or nothing time.”
House of Glass Page 20
