Chapter 12
Anna
“You lied, I know. Donald Karmasky is not free, he’s dead. Suicide, or so it says.”
“Do I need to ask how you know that? Or why?”
I couldn’t stop the constant need to walk. My mind was spinning, racing with a possibility I almost couldn’t believe was true. To say I was upset at not making Braden’s rapist pay for the pain he caused was an understatement. I had had big plans to make him suffer. But they were for nothing.
“Anna, how did you know about Donald?”
“I looked into him. There’s no crime in that.”
“No, there’s not. But why?”
My lips pressed together, wondering if this was some sort of trap. Maybe I wrong. Maybe Braden was trying to trick me into telling him about my own past. Or maybe he wanted me to admit I wasn’t okay. That the crazy person who locked herself away was still unstable. Trust was something I didn’t have anymore. Not toward anyone.
At my silence, Braden’s head lowered. When his eyes rose, I came to a stop.
“You can’t go around killing everyone who you’re upset with. That’s a good way to get caught.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t killed anyone. Well, not like you mean.”
His head gave a hard shake, jumbling my thoughts even more. “No?” Stepping forward, he cocked his lowered head to the side as he reached for my hand. I could have backed away, but for some reason, I didn’t. I let him pull me forward, until we were only inches apart. When he leaned in next to my ear, my breath held. “I’m going to tell you a secret I’ve never told anyone.”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t want to know?” Still, his voice was low as my head went back and forth. Lips pressed against my forehead, holding until I leaned back to look up to him.
“You’re going to try to convince me you killed him. You’re trying to make yourself relatable so I will give you a confession. But you’re not a killer, Braden. You didn’t kill Donald.”
“Not directly, no. I didn’t have to.”
“…What do you mean?”
“I’m not telling you this to get a confession from you. If you wanted to tell me about Jade, you would. But I know. Deep down, I know you killed that girl. With Donald…” he took a deep breath, leading me to sit on the edge of the bed while he sat next to me, “I was counting down the days until he would be released. Maybe it was still the little boy in me who had to face his attacker. I don’t know. All I can remember is the moment I knew he was out of prison. I didn’t sleep for three days. I laid awake at night, remembering—his face, the look he had as he was trying to kill me. All of it kept replaying in my head. It didn’t matter how much I drank. No amount of alcohol could erase what haunted me.”
Braden paused, taking a shaky breath. “Weeks went by, just as bad as those first few days. It was hell knowing he was free. I drove to the city every chance I got. I found his new address and tailed him. I had to see, you know? I had to make sure he wasn’t looking for more boys. After thirteen years, he learned nothing. Nothing at all. A boy came up missing. Then, another. By the third boy, they had no evidence. No leads. But I knew. I fucking felt it in my gut. So, one night I broke in.
“Didn’t fucking matter to me that I was a cop. Or that I had no jurisdiction or warrant. I heard him before I saw him. That deep laugh. Raspy, and…almost hallow sounding. He laughed the same demented way that night.
“I had my gun out. I remember feeling like I couldn’t breathe through the thick fumes inside. And sick—I was sick at hearing him and what I could feel had happened. My pain returned. The pain of the rape. The physical pain when I awoke.
“When I walked into the bedroom, he was standing over the bed. There was a little boy lying face down. He had his shirt still on, but he was nude from the waist down. He was wearing a superhero shirt. I remember because across the back it said some sort of slogan. Something meant to empower a child.” Braden wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I fucking lost it. Donald didn’t even know who I was at first. There were so many things I wanted to do, Anna. So many fucking things that ate me alive because I couldn’t. Not personally. What I made him do to himself gave me something, though. Not peace, or comfort. Not even justice for me or that boy. More…fuel to something I didn’t even know existed in me. Something dark and wrong. And I liked it when I shouldn’t have.”
I reached for his hand, knowing what he was telling me was the truth. I thought he had meant to trap me, but his emotions were real, as was the scene concerning the boy. The agony in his eyes broke my heart. And the dark feeling, I knew exactly what he was speaking of.
“What did you make him do?”
Braden’s fingers slid through mine. “He may have been able to hurt little boys, but he was the biggest coward when faced with a real man. After he saw me with my gun, he pissed himself. He kept stumbling over pleas. Begging me not to kill him. I made him write a note confessing his crimes. In the note, he admitted what a horrible person he thought himself to be. The more I looked at him, the fucking sicker I became. He was so dirty in his tight, stained undershirt and baggy boxers. He was bald with a big beard. Just…dirty. The appearance didn’t go with the smell of the house. It was thick with fumes of bleach. It’s all I could smell, and the realization kept coming back to me. I…uh, made him go to the bathroom and get in the tub with the same gallon of disinfectant he’d used to clean up his crimes. I made him lay down and told him if he didn’t drink that entire fucking thing, I’d make him eat my barrel. He threw up three times as the bleach ate through his intestinal tract and throat. His lips were blistering, and the smell…I can’t fucking smell bleach to this day.”
“Braden. I…” My mouth parted and the horror I should have felt evaded me. “I’m glad you did it.”
A sniffle sounded, and his eyes shot over. “What would you have done, Anna, if you had found him alive? Would you have really gone after him? To kill him because of what he’d done to me?”
“Yes.”
“And then what? How would you have done it?”
“You don’t want that answer.”
“I do. What would you have done?”
I let go of his hand, my face tightening through the anger bubbling inside. He kept wanting me to share who I was, but did he really need to know? I kept wanting to push him away, so what was a better tool than being honest? If he wasn’t trying to use this confession against me, what did I have to fear? It wasn’t like we were going to get back together because we had sex and connected on a sadistic level.
“I’d do what I’ve been made to do. And I would have done it with pleasure after what he put you through. Donald Karmasky deserved every torturous last moment you gave him. Had I found him alive, he would have suffered unimaginable pain. I would have made sure he stayed alive for as long as possible as I cut him clean open. I would bathed in his blood and loved every second of it as he screamed for his life. Then I would have removed his heart and sliced it to pieces so he could never hurt another. Does that make you feel any better?”
“Not better,” Braden sighed. “Not worse. The only thing I feel is the need to slam you back down on this bed and not leave your side until I’ve had my fill. Which may be never.”