I shook my head. “SHUT UP AND MOVE!”
“No,” he replied again, still just as calm as the first time.
The arrogance of the man was infuriating and I was about to pull the trigger just to prove him wrong when he sprang into action. I’d thought there was enough space between us, but he hurled himself at me; so fast he was just a blur. I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Even if it had fired, it would’ve missed because he’d already knocked my arm to the side.
The man barreled into me, hitting me hard. I stumbled in my heels, falling to the ground, and I felt him rip the gun out of my hands.
“You didn’t turn the safety off,” he sneered. “You need more practice.”
I was as angry at myself as I was at him in that moment. How had I let this happen? I’d hunted him. Lured him. Gotten the upper hand when things went south the first time, and I’d still ended up on the ground before him.
“Now tell me why you’re here,” he said, clearly relishing being the one to give the orders.
“I came to stop you,” I said. I struggled to keep my voice every bit as calm as he had earlier. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me beg. I had been in worse situations than this and I’d always survived.
“I see,” he replied, his voice laced with condescension. “You’re good, I’ll give you that, but not good enough.”
He pulled me up by my hair and jammed the gun into the small of my back, pushing me toward the building I’d pointed him to when I was in control. I stumbled. My shoes had fallen off at some point, probably when I’d fallen, and there was gravel sharp against my bare feet. We reached the misaligned door and he broke it in with one powerful kick.
He threw me through the door, hard, and I landed painfully on the ground, arms and legs splayed. I heard the tight fabric of my dress rip. The building was empty and dark, but I could make out the triumphant expression on his face as he stepped over me.
He straddled me and I could barely breathe under his weight. He grabbed my hair again and yanked my head to the side. He was still holding the gun. He clicked the safety off and trailed the nozzle down my cheek, then softly over my lips.
I trembled, but it wasn’t fear that shook my body, it was hatred.
“Now,” he whispered, “you’re gonna give me what I want… you know what it is, don’t you?”
I shook my head and he brought the gun down hard into my cheek. I couldn’t help crying out, and squeezed my eyes shut in case he was going to hit me again. When I opened them, he was staring at me, sick elation on his face. I recognized it.
“Yes,” he said, looking back into my eyes. “You see it now, you see it on my face… I bet it’s the same look you’ve had when you killed.”
He got off me. He pointed the gun.
I had one chance, and it was slim at best. I’d landed on top of my bag. In his confidence and excitement he seemed to have forgotten that I had my own weapons. While he was talking and I’d been slowly pulling my knife out. He was too far to cut, but if I threw the knife, there was at least a chance that I’d get him, or at least distract him.
I held my breath the moment the knife came free and flung it forward with all my strength as I hurled my whole body to the side, knowing that he was about to pull the trigger. The sound was deafening, but there was no pain. Not knowing if it was adrenaline covering it, or if he’d actually missed, I moved as quickly as I could. I had no time to think and no strategy. I ran at him and slammed my body into his. He was a big man but I managed to knock him backwards.
In his best attempt to keep his balance, he’d flung his gun arm to the side, and I made a move. I grabbed at his wrist and spun my shoulder underneath his arm. Using every ounce of strength I had, I pulled down on his arm, his elbow landing on the top of my shoulder, and I heard the joint separate and bones grinding. He howled in pain, but I had to be sure he was incapacitated. I released his arm and drove my elbow into his ribs as hard as I could; I screamed as I struck him again and again, channeling all my rage into my strikes. I knocked the wind out of him, and he sucked his cry back in a wheezing gasp, as he tried to say something I couldn’t understand.
I stepped away from him, feeling pretty good about turning things around, when a searing pain sliced through me. At first, I thought it was delayed pain from the gunshot, but I was wrong; he’d cut me. Apparently, the knife had found a target and had been lodged in his leg when I ran into him. How he had the sense of mind to pull it out with his non-dominant hand after I’d broken his arm was beyond me, but he’d ripped a jagged wound across my lower back. I had just enough strength to move away and kick the gun out of reach in the process. It would have been better to pick it up, but my main focus was getting away from the knife as quickly as possible.
Turning back to face him, I was now looking at a very different man. Even when he’d been on top of me, he’d kept some amount of composure, but now his façade was gone and the evil that lived beneath the surface bore its ugly face.
“I was going to let you off easy, since we have so much in common, but now I’m going to enjoy this,” he snarled at me.
“You would have enjoyed it either way – that’s the difference between us.”
He came at me with my own knife swinging pathetically with his left hand. I’d underestimated him once, and now it was him thinking too little of me. His awkward movement was easy to avoid and I planted a kick to his body. I heard a snap and hoped I had broken a rib.
He roared in pain and came at me with the knife again. I grabbed his wrist this time, in an effort to disarm him, but he pulled back too hard and cut into my palm. This night was not going the way either of us had planned it. He had the only weapon, and even with his weak hand, he was strong enough to fend me off when I tried to take it. I thought of charging him. If I caught him off guard I knew I had a good chance, but where knives are concerned, there are no guarantees, and I was done getting cut.
Instead, I waited for him to come at me again, planning to land another blow to distract him while I went for the gun. He was taller and had longer strides. If we both took off at the same time, there was little chance of me getting there first. He bounced from side to side a minute and I moved with him, always keeping my body between him and the gun. When he finally stepped forward again, I drove the same heel into him with everything I had. He doubled over and I immediately pivoted, taking off at a full sprint in the direction I’d kicked the gun. I spotted it against a wall just as his footsteps started catching up behind me. I had to dive.
Time seemed to slow as it always does in adrenaline filled situations, it came to a near standstill as I reached for the gun and looked back behind me to see the man nearly on top of me already. My hand found the handle as perfectly as it could, and I rolled, landing on my back. The rough concrete scraped my skin as I landed in my skimpy dress, but when I pulled the trigger this time, the same loud shot rang out and I felt my arms jolt upward from the recoil.
I had no idea if I had shot the man or not, but he was moving so quickly that he careened right over top of me when I dove, tripping over my body and rolling across the ground. I rose as fast as I could, aware of a sharp pain in my back. It felt like the cut from the knife had torn as I’d slid across the ground, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was now embedded with dirt and gravel.
Looking at the pile of a man who was now laying on the ground, I could see that he was certainly still alive, but the gun had found its mark. He was clutching his abdomen as blood pooled in his hands. My knife was on the ground several feet to his side where he’d likely tossed it during the fall. He no longer looked threatening, but he still showed absolutely no fear.
“I guess you win this one,” he said, wrenching his face when he tried to breath at the end. “Just finish me off.”
“Finish you?” I asked, doing my very best to return the smug condescension he’d shown me. “I thought you said we were alike? You know I can’t just finish you. You deserve to be punished first.�
�
He let his head hang down. He wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of any reaction more than that, but I at least knew he understood and was afraid. Who wouldn’t be?
I picked my knife up and tossed the gun outside the door. I wasn’t about to get close to him with that. He’d surprised me already and that would be game over. It was a risk to even go at him with the knife, but far less so if I was at least somewhat prepared for it.
I took the taser from the bag I had discarded when I was first knocked to the ground, along with the knife, and went back over to see him.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Mark,” he replied. “Mark Hillcrest.”
“Well, Mark. You are a new one for me. I know you won’t beg, so I’ll just get right to it. You raped innocent women, Mark. You violated them,” I said as I pressed the knife down into his thigh.
His face contorted in pain and he bit his lip to keep from screaming. I twisted the knife back the other way, forcing a scream from his unwilling lips.
“AAAAHHHHHHHHH!”
“It’s not fun, is it?” I asked. “You were right, you know, that I enjoy this… but where you enjoy the pain you inflict, I enjoy the knowledge that you are getting what you deserve. You deserve this!” I said, twisting the knife again, “You are by far one of the vilest creatures I’ve ever met.”
In his last effort of defiance, Mark spit at me.
I was about to take the knife to his shoulder, one of my favorite places to torture men, but the sound of sirens in the background, not all that far away, pulled me out of the moment.
It made sense that they were coming after two gunshots. The fact that they’d given me even the few minutes it had taken to get this far was actually something of a surprise.
“Looks like your fun is over.” Mark groaned, letting his head fall back against the brick. “So are you going to ki…”
I swung the knife across the front of his throat as hard and fast as I could, cutting deep into his flesh. A spray of blood hit me in the face and then another flew off to the side as he slid down the wall.
He was dead.
The police were almost here and there was no way for me to escape in time. I dropped the knife and retrieved the gun, carrying it back inside and leaving it on the ground in front of Mark. As the police cars pulled up, I worked myself into frantic tears.
The first officers on the scene ordered me down on my face and handcuffed me. I obeyed, but cried hysterically the entire time. One of the officers assured me that I’d be okay, so I hoped that the scene was enough to make him think that it was at least self-defense. I hadn’t planned on being found here, so I was going to have to make up a story as I went. All I focused on while playing off the appearance of shock was how I would answer all the questions that would come. How had I met him? Why did he bring me here? What happened once we arrived? Why was I dressed like this?
“EMILY!?”
I heard a shout from the crowd examining the scene. Shit! Brandon was here!
“Emily, what the hell is going on?” he asked as he ran over and took my hands, looking over my injuries just as the paramedics asked me to sit down so they could take a look at me.
“I… I… He tried to kill me,” I stammered, looking at the man I cared so much for, but doing my best to look through him and continue to give the appearance of being in complete shock.
“Who is he?” Brandon asked.
“I think he’s the man you were after… he… he grabbed me on the street outside Kate’s house and brought me here. He knew your name and said he’d show the police that he couldn’t be touched.”
Brandon’s hand curled into an angry fist as I made up the story on the spot. His gritted his teeth as he listened, eyes smoldering with anger. I felt terrible that this was going to make him feel responsible, but it offered a solution to many of the problems I otherwise couldn’t explain away.
“I… I didn’t… He made me change in front of him in his car and threw my old clothes away. It was horrible. But… when he tried… when he tried to touch me, I fought back.
“It’s okay,” Brandon assured me.
“Pearson,” a deep voice called out from behind him.
“That’s my captain. I have to go for a second, but I’ll be right back, okay?”
I nodded and pretended to choke back a few more sobs. I clung to his hand and made him pry my fingers off to go explain how he knew me. It wasn’t too hard to act overwhelmed at that point as the whole situation was VERY overwhelming. I was questioned by another detective while Brandon was kept away, poked and prodded by the paramedics who worked to clean and bandage my wounds, and told that I needed to go to the hospital to have the cut on my back cleaned out. By the time they let Brandon come back over to see me, I was completely spent.
“Based on everything that you told us, you aren’t in any trouble here,” Brandon said. “I’m going to come to the hospital with you. Do you want me to call Kate and let her know what happened?”
“Not right now,” I replied. “It’s too late.”
He nodded and helped me step up into the back of the ambulance. Once we were inside, I laid down on a stretcher and closed my eyes. Brandon sat in silence, letting me rest as we bumped along on the very uncomfortable ride. I was far from tired, but I didn’t want to have to explain anything else for now. I needed more time to think.
As we bounced along, I thought about what I had been doing and how eerily similar the hunger that the serial rapist and murderer I’d just killed was to my own. I knew in my heart that there was a dividing line between us, and that I wasn’t the kind of evil he was, but in my head, that line was a little blurrier than it had once been. I’d become too relaxed in picking my targets and somewhere along the way it was not the need to end a man’s life to better the world that drove my hunger, but it was my hunger that drove me to find a need. I was justifying situations that may not warrant that kind of response, and I needed to look no further back than Joe.
He’d been an asshole to Kate, but he hadn’t hurt her. I killed him because he was the first viable candidate and I was desperate for it. The witch had been right, and it had taken seeing just a fraction of my reflection in the eyes of a monster for me to fully appreciate it. My sight had once been my guidepost. The unique feeling I had that confirmed my course of action. I’d twisted that to fit my needs, but no more. There was no way I was stopping, but from now on, I would make sure I was fully in control.
I settled the matter with myself just as we arrived at the hospital. Opening my eyes, I found a very worn out looking Brandon there to greet me.
“We just got here,” he informed me, assuming I’d been asleep.
“Okay,” I said. “Brandon… I want you to know...”
“Don’t worry about anything right now,” he said. “You’re still in shock. Let’s just get you checked out.”
“No,” I insisted. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you at all. I can see it in your eyes. It was there the moment I told you that he took me. This was HIS doing, and there is no way you could have known. No matter what had happened, I knew that the whole time. Please don’t be mad at yourself.”
The strong man flashed a very vulnerable smile. I’d pegged it right and I could see the weight lift off his shoulders. I’m sure he would still be upset, but knowing that I didn’t blame him was huge.
“I love you,” he said.
I stared a moment without responding, genuinely surprised to hear the words.
“I’d apologize, but I mean it. You don’t have to say anything, but I knew it before tonight, it was just way too soon to say it. You are amazing and I love you.”
There was a fresh tear in my eye, and it had nothing to do with the pain I was in or the fake fear I’d been wearing since they found me.
“I love you too!” I exclaimed back.
He reached around me and offered the gentlest hug imaginable, but it still hurt a little. I really was in pretty rough shape. N
o one had ever fought back like Mark had – but I suppose he would have felt the same way about me.
I was escorted inside and directly to a bed where a doctor was in to see me in a matter of minutes. He was concerned with the cut on my back and had some sort of scan done, which revealed something that required me to be kept for observation for at least a day. I had no idea what they were saying, but getting to rest sounded perfect no matter where I was. Brandon never left my side and called in a personal day at work the moment we found out I’d be in the hospital the next day. He held my hand and we talked about random things that had nothing to do with my injuries or the night that we both wanted to leave behind us.
Brandon seemed a little distracted a few times and I hoped that he believed the story. He’d told me he loved me and was being the best boyfriend I could ever ask for, but there was something going on in his head and I couldn’t tell if it was just worry or if there was something more going on. Trying to figure that out would only make things worse, so I just played it cool the whole time.
Kate and Norah came by the next day looking sadder than I’ve ever seen either of them.
“I can’t believe this happened!” Kate exclaimed. “Right by the house too?”
“She said she was out for a walk,” Brandon said.
“Yes,” Kate replied. “She’s been having trouble sleeping takes a late-night walk from time to time.” She turned back to me and said, “I figured you’d just slept in when we didn’t see you this morning. You should have called last night!”
“I wasn’t going to wake you. It wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait until this morning.”
“I offered,” Brandon added with a smile.
Kate just flashed me a dirty look. I guess I made the wrong choice letting her sleep.
Kate had let Norah come and see me before taking her to school late for the day, but they were only able to stay a few minutes before she had to get going.
“Thank you both for coming. I should be home later tonight or tomorrow if all goes well.”
Evil Unbound- Death's Mistress Returns Page 21
