CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
God, I hurt. My entire body seemed to ache and throb, like it was one giant bruise. My muscles felt stiff and cramped, and it didn’t help that I was lying on something hard.
My neck hurt most. No, my head. Definitely my head; not only was it pounding like a bitch, a long trail of fire blazed from my temple right along the side of my head. There was also a deep, dull ache in my wrist. Weirdly, the fingers of that hand tingled and felt numb at the tips. As if all that weren’t bad enough, I felt groggy. Shaky. Nauseous. Like—
The crash.
I tensed, resisting the urge to open my eyes. Ricky had taken me, the fucker. Where? How long had I been unconscious? Was he close?
Wherever I was, someone had been burning candles recently because I could smell wax. I could also smell dirt, dust, and something … rank. Rotten. And that didn’t help my churning stomach at all.
It was little wonder that Ricky was using candles, since the place was so damn chilly. I might not have shivered, though, if my skin wasn’t almost as wet as the clothes that clung to my body. Some of my damp hair was stuck to my forehead while another chunk was matted by the warm, sticky wetness on the side of my head—blood.
Fuck, I needed to contact Blake using the watch. First, I needed to be sure I was alone. I listened hard, but all I could detect was the sound of my own breathing. I couldn’t even hear any street or traffic noise. Nothing. Which wasn’t good, because it meant the place was isolated.
Certain that I was alone for the moment, I opened my eyes. High stained windows. An old baptistry tank. A faceless religious statue.
A church, I realized. I was in a church, lying on a front wooden pew. Going by the debris littering the floor and the cracks and dents in the walls, it had long ago been abandoned. Tilting my head just a little, I noticed the altar on the dais. It wasn’t covered in dust. It was smooth and polished, and surrounded by ceremonial candles.
Well, fuck.
Getting a brief look at my wrist, I winced. It was swollen and grotesquely bruised. Definitely broken. On the upside, my watch was on my other wrist—apart from a little friction burn courtesy of the airbag, it was unhurt—and it was working just fine. On the downside, I’d need to use one of my tingling fingers to press the SOS button on the side.
Calling Blake would be a bad idea, considering Ricky had to be here somewhere. If he realized that I’d contacted Blake and that people would soon be here, Ricky would kill me fast and be on his way. That wasn’t going to happen. No, it was best to use the SOS button.
Moving my uninjured hand as close to the other as possible, I managed to lift my index finger—fuck, that hurt—and then I pushed hard on the button. I clenched my teeth to bite back a cry of pain as I kept my finger pressed there, silently counting to five. With that done, I let out a shaky breath. Blake would receive the alert. He’d know I needed him. He’d come.
Just in case he thought about calling me in a blind panic, I quickly put the watch on silent mode with a single tap to the menu bar at the top of the screen. The fact that he hadn’t already called meant he wasn’t concerned about me yet, so I couldn’t have been unconscious too long, right? Oh shit, it also meant that Rossi hadn’t been able to reach him. It wasn’t yet dark outside, but it was certainly dull—though that could simply be thanks to the shit weather—so I truly couldn’t even guess how long he’d been out there all alone.
Praying—no, the irony of that didn’t escape me, considering where I was—that Rossi was okay, I stiffly sat upright. The world spun. Damn. It was an absolute marvel that I didn’t vomit. I felt something crusty agitating the side of my face and, guessing it was ribbons of dry blood, rubbed at it gently. Sure enough, my fingers came away with reddish brown specks. Great.
Catching something in my peripheral vision, I glanced to my right. My heart stopped. Then it was pounding like a drum. Someone was sat at the end of the pew, covered from head to toe in a scraggly black cloak like a leper from olden times. Their head was bowed as if in prayer, and they weren’t moving. Not even a tiny bit. And I knew as sure as I knew my own name that this was the source of the rank smell. I was looking at a dead body.
Cringing, I scrambled further down the pew and slapped a hand over my mouth—maybe to stop a scream, maybe to fight the urge to throw up. Maybe both. I would have run my ass off if my legs weren’t like jelly.
Chest heaving, I panted. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.
My gaze darted around, taking in everything. My chest tightened as I saw that, oh no, there were more of them. Behind me were rows upon rows of pews separated only by a single aisle. Hooded bodies were sporadically placed on the wooden benches. Some were even seated together.
Inside my head, I screamed. My ribs suddenly felt as tight as the wet jeans clinging to my skin. Out, I had to get out.
“You should see how wide your eyes are.”
My gaze snapped to the altar as Ricky came strolling onto the podium, the image of amusement.
“Shit, you look close to hyperventilating. Okay, I’ll admit, this place is eerie.” He glanced at the bodies. “Sometimes, I half-expect them to start moving around. Don’t worry, Kensey. They can’t hurt you. They’re very much dead. But there’ll be no burial for them. They need to repent their sins. Need to witness as others are punished.” His nostrils flared. “Soon, they’ll witness you being punished. Then you’ll join them in repenting.”
My skin tightened and prickled, like something was crawling over me. He’d always been creepy, but now? Now there was something spine-chilling about him. Who could honestly look at a bunch of dead people and smile? I shivered again, feeling as cold on the inside as I did on the outside.
He sighed. “I was really hoping the crash would kill you.”
Yeah, and I was betting that he hadn’t planned to take me anywhere. If he had, he’d have brought rope to tie me up before dumping me in his truck. I swallowed. “Why not just kill me at the crash site and drive away?”
“If it was your fate to die there, the crash would’ve done the job,” he said simply. “But maybe it’s better this way. Murder by car collision is so … impersonal.”
Resisting the urge to snarl, I asked, “Where’s your friend?”
Ricky squinted just a little. “He’ll be here soon. My mother found my letters, did she?”
“No. A cop did.” I licked my dry lips. “Your mom’s worried about you.”
He shook his head, incredulous. “You know, I could shoot someone’s face off right in front of her, and she’d stick by me. She would. I’d love her if she wasn’t such a lying bitch, telling me that my father’s dead. Me and you both know that isn’t true, don’t we?”
I didn’t answer, refusing to tell him what he wanted to hear.
He snickered. “Well, at least you didn’t say ‘yes’ and act submissive. I wouldn’t have bought it.”
“Why did you write the story?” I asked. Not because I cared, but because I needed to delay whatever he meant to do. Blake would come for me. I needed to do my part and stay alive until he got here.
Ricky’s face set into a childlike, petulant frown. “I was supposed to leave you alone. I didn’t want to. Dad would rave about the stories you wrote for him. Yeah, well, I can write stories too, if I want.”
Oh Jesus, he sounded like a kid struggling with sibling rivalry. And listening to a grown man talk that way made the knot in my stomach tighten. “You can also do a good job of vandalizing apartments and cars, can’t you?”
He pursed his lips, gaze unfocused. “Yeah, I don’t remember all that very well. I was mad and not really thinking.” He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. But to him, it didn’t. Not much did. Not even the corpses around us.
Supremely conscious of the body sitting not far from me, I was tempted to glimpse at it. I resisted. God, I wished I’d never looked in the first place. But it was too late to un-see it. I knew I’d never get that image out of my head. Never.
A cruel smirk split his lips. “Would you like to see under the hoods of our parishioners? You might recognize one or two of them. It’ll add to the fun.”
Terror gripped my insides. Who could he mean? My mother … I hadn’t spoken to her in over two days. No, he couldn’t have—
A car engine.
Ricky grinned. “Ah, here he is.”
Every muscle in my body went tight. Please be Blake. Please be Blake. Please be Blake. But it wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t, because the footsteps that soon began heading our way were even and leisurely—a person who was in no rush at all. The tread was nothing like Blake’s.
My panicked breaths sawed in and out of me. Dammit, I needed to get the fuck out of this place. There was a chance that Blake wouldn’t reach me in time. No fucking way was I going to die here. No way would I be propped on a pew, covered in a black cloak. But I didn’t know how the hell I was going to save myself.
I needed to calm the fuck down. I needed to think. I took a deep, centering breath. And another. And another. But that calm left me when the heavy wooden doors opened, and I turned to watch as Ricky’s friend walked in. His mouth went as slack with shock as mine did.
Whirling on Ricky, he stalked toward him. “What did you do, you stupid fuck?!”
Ricky jutted out his chin. “I did what needed to be done!”
“I told you to leave her alone! She’s covered in fucking bruises, and she’s got a gash on her head! What did you do?”
Ricky shrugged one shoulder, smirking. “My truck might have plowed into her car.”
Reed fisted Ricky’s shirt. Yes, Reed. Mother of fuck, I hadn’t once suspected that he could have anything to do with all this. Not. Once.
“There’s something fucking amusing about this?” Reed demanded, upper lip curled as he glared at Ricky. “I told you that she’s no obstacle!”
“She’s the biggest obstacle of all, Reed, and you know it! All Michael can see is her. She made him soft. When she and her mother are gone, he’ll go back to the way he was before. He’ll be the person he was meant to be! And we’ll be his sons.”
Reed hissed through his teeth. “Michael wouldn’t want her harmed.”
Ricky smirked again. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? She’s seen your work. You’ll have to kill her.”
Reed turned to face me, cheeks red with fury, a glint of something wrong in those eyes that I’d never seen before. “I don’t want to have to kill you, Kensey.” I was sure he thought he sounded reassuring, but he didn’t. “Michael wouldn’t want that. You have him in your life. You’ve accepted him and what he did, even though you don’t like it. I need you to say you can understand and accept this just the same.”
Rigid as the hooded body not far from me, I just stared at Reed. I wondered if my eyes were as cold and lifeless as I imagined. How fucking ironic was it that the one thing that might save me was my connection to Michael?
“I don’t fit the profile of your average serial killer, do I? I’m not good looking. Not charming. Not in great shape. But that’s where my power lies, Kensey. No one sees me as a threat. People underestimate me. Even dismiss me. They never see me coming.”
“You killed all these people?” My voice came out low and warbled.
The expression on Reed’s face was almost sympathetic. “You’ve never really understood Michael, have you? You’ve accepted his crimes, but you don’t understand. Some people just shouldn’t live, Kensey. They shouldn’t. Michael knows that. I know that. Ricky knows that. These people here don’t deserve your pity. They needed to be punished. They needed to pay. Every single one of them admitted it, right there on that altar.”
I was betting they’d have said or done whatever he wanted if they thought it might end their suffering. Keep him talking, I told myself. “How haven’t the bodies completely decomposed?” Surely the place would smell a heck of a lot worse if they had.
“I learned how to embalm the dead from my father—he’s a mortician, remember? I embalmed each of them, and then I mummified them too before dressing them in a cloak.”
Well, he hadn’t gotten the mummification process totally right. Allegedly, mummies didn’t smell ‘dead,’ they smelled musty with, in some cases, a hint of incense. But here, there was a whiff of rot that I suspected would worsen over time. “What were their crimes?”
Seeming pleased by my interest, Reed gestured at the body on the pew behind mine. “Mrs. Jenkins over there would offer to babysit the young children of her tenants. While their parents were gone, she’d strip them naked and encourage them to play in her outdoor pool. Then she’d invite her friends to come sit by the pool and watch. But they didn’t just watch, Kensey. And neither did she.”
My stomach rolled, because the implication was utterly clear.
He gestured at two figures huddled in a corner at the other side of the church. “Over there, you have Mina Best and Josie Hall. Lovers. Mina had five children; four daughters, one son. The women tortured the three-year-old boy. Burned him with cigarettes. Whipped him with a studded belt. Made him sleep in a dog crate and eat dog food. And that’s not even the worst of the things they did—I’ll spare you the rest, because I can see you’re close to losing whatever food is in your stomach. Let’s move on to Miss Thorpe …”
One by one, he told me about his ‘parishioners.’ Each time he finished a devastatingly sad and sickening story, I tensed, bracing myself to hear a name I recognized. When there were only two left to go, I should have been relieved that they’d all so far been strangers to me. It was likely that Ricky had simply been fucking with my head—something that was clearly a hobby of his. But I was wound tighter than a drum, because it was still possible—
“At the back is Liza Montgomery.”
My pulse spiked at the name.
Reed lifted a brow. “I believe you know her story. I was sitting in my car, talking to Ricky on the phone, when she approached you that day in the parking lot. I overheard the conversation and made a point of finding out who she was. A quick Google search unearthed quite a bit of information. She told me the rest while spread out on my altar. She was cruel to the core, Kensey. They all were.”
They were also all women. Women who had abused children in one way or another. And bile rose in my throat at the thought of what those children had been through. Mouth dry as a bone, I asked, “And what did you do to them?”
He stepped toward me but halted when I jerked back. His mouth tightened, but he went on, “Until someone experiences something for themselves, they can’t really know what it’s like. Unless they know how it feels, they can’t truly be sorry. I made sure they knew how their victims felt. Made sure they knew what it was like to be helpless, terrified, overpowered, and assaulted. They begged for it to end, because they couldn’t take the pain they’d dished out so many times to others.” He breathed deeply. “Michael was my inspiration. Me and Ricky were both part of the Nexus, you know.”
I fisted my damp shirt as if it would anchor me. The Nexus was a Satanic cult that worshipped Michael.
“They said they believed in him and his cause, but they didn’t, Kensey. Not really. Because when it came time to continue his work, none of them would step up. Oh, they’d perform their rituals, pray to Satan, and worship at the altar they’d dedicated to Michael. They even planned to go on killing sprees, but they never did it. Not even once.”
Thank fuck for that.
“Me and Ricky were the only ones who really believed in furthering Michael’s work. But Ricky, no, he doesn’t have that killer instinct. Can’t stomach seeing a knife slice through flesh. I started this venture alone after we left the Nexus but, well, it got hard not having anyone to share it with. I knew Ricky would understand. Can you, Kensey?”
I closed my eyes. It was so hard to look at Reed right then. Hard to face that this person I’d worked alongside and considered a friend had done such terrible things. How hadn’t I seen it? I’d never felt entirely comfortable around him; never felt able to trust or confide in him. But I’d never imagined him to be a killer.
Reed sighed. “I see you’re having trouble dealing with this. Don’t fear me, Kensey. I’ve watched over you for years.”
Meeting eyes that now seemed strangely tormented, as if my fear truly would bother him, I said, “You broke into my apartment.” And it had no doubt been a breeze for him, since he’d helped his cousin install my alarm system. He’d known what model it was and where all the sensors were.
“So that you’d know I was close and that I’d protect you. You were so stressed out by this fucking idiot writing that story, and it made you paranoid.” He tossed Ricky a withering look, but Ricky didn’t appear chastened; he glowered. Reed ignored him. “I needed you to know that someone was close, you were safe, and that you didn’t need to be so worried.”
How could he not see that it had had the opposite effect?
His expression darkened as he added, “Running into Blake’s arms was a mistake. He’s not good for you, Kensey. People like me and Blake and Ricky, people who like to cause pain … we’ll never be normal. We’ll never get to lead normal lives. Don’t you want a bit of ‘normal,’ Kensey? Cade would be better for you. Not assholes like Gage—fuck, Kensey, what were you thinking when you dated that guy? I couldn’t believe it when I followed him to that bar and found him all over that redhead who’s got a hard-on for Blake.”
One thing I didn’t want right then was Reed to be pissed off, and that obviously meant moving him off the subject of Blake. “I saw your altar and candles. I didn’t know you were religious.”
Reed snorted. “Religion is a fucking joke. My mother used to go to a church like this every Sunday and pray and sing hymns and light candles. Then she’d take me home and—” He inhaled sharply, looking vulnerable all of a sudden.
“What did she do to you, Reed?”
His eyes hardened. “Nothing I didn’t do to her with the strap-on she liked to wear so much. Either my dad didn’t know or didn’t care what she did—he was too busy playing with the dead. She was my first kill.” His eyes settled on the body at the end of my pew and I realized that, oh God, it was his mother. “Can you tell me she didn’t deserve what she got, Kensey?”
“I believe in an eye for an eye.” It didn’t really answer his question, but he seemed pleased.
“I knew I could make you understand. I mean, you love Michael, despite what he did. You know things aren’t black and white.”
Ricky made a sound of utter derision. “She’ll say anything to make you free her. You can’t honestly mean to let her go!”
Reed glared at him. “Are you going to kill her?” He sneered when Ricky didn’t answer. “No, I didn’t think so. You’re only good for helping me snatch the women and set up the altar. You won’t do the real work yourself.”
I looked at Ricky. “You were the one who held me at knifepoint, weren’t you?”
Ricky flushed, embarrassed. For me, that night had been frightening. For him, it had been a failure at being what he wanted to be.
“Did you stab Linton too?”
“He was watching you, and that wasn’t good for me and Reed,” said Ricky. “It meant he could see something he wasn’t supposed to see.”
Like Ricky ramming his truck into my car.
“You were supposed to kill him,” Reed reprimanded. “Ricky paid for scarring you, by the way, Kensey.” Reed tossed him yet another hostile look, but Ricky still didn’t cower. In fact, he looked even angrier than before.
As for Reed … he looked his normal, usual self. He didn’t look crazy. Didn’t act crazy. And that somehow made this whole thing scarier. Sure, there was nothing ‘sane’ about his actions, but they were entirely logical to him. He believed in what he was doing. I doubted that there was a single thing that anyone could say to him that would make him question his actions.
“I wasn’t ready back then, but I am now,” Ricky insisted, clenching his fists. “You said it yourself, Reed, it’s about time I popped my cherry. What better person to start that with than her?”
Reed did a slow blink. “Did you not hear anything I said? She’s special to Michael. Hurting her would hurt him.”
“And he doesn’t deserve just a little pain for snubbing and rejecting me?” Ricky demanded, spittle flying everywhere. “She knows what it’s like. Her dad didn’t acknowledge her either. She knows how it feels; she should have been a little fucking sympathetic to what I was going through! But no!”
“Get a damn grip, Ricky, I’m not spending hours calming your ass down again.”
“You can’t really mean to let her go! She’ll go to the cops the first chance she gets! And if she doesn’t do it, her boyfriend will. Then it’ll all be over. Reed, man, I know you don’t want to disappoint my dad. But he’ll thank us for killing her in the long-run, when he’s thinking straight again.”
“I won’t kill her.” Reed rubbed a fist over his mouth, frowning thoughtfully. Then his eyes lit up. “I’ll keep her instead. My basement … yeah, she can stay there. There’s plenty of room. Hell, I think my old bed is still down there. And people like Blake can’t get to her then. She’ll be safer.”
Oh, the fuck, no. No. I’d be damned if I’d be anyone’s captive.
Ricky gaped at him. “Man, why do you give a rat’s ass if she’s safe?” Then his mouth formed an ‘O’ shape and he burst out laughing. “You want her, don’t you?” Again, he laughed. “She’ll never want you back, Reed.”
Cheeks reddening, Reed landed a hard slap on Ricky’s face that echoed throughout the church like a clap of thunder. The laughter cut off. Reed jabbed a finger in his face. “I told you, I don’t like anyone laughing at me.”
As they proceeded to argue, my eyes darted to the thick wooden doors. I wondered if just maybe I could run outside while they were busy having a standoff. Reed had said he didn’t want to hurt me, and I believed him. But he also said that he wanted me as his captive, and there was just no fucking way I’d let that happen.
On a good day, it would be easy to outrun Reed. He wasn’t exactly fit. But although my legs weren’t quite so shaky now, my body still pulsed with pain. And I’d seen Ricky run in the parking garage two years ago—the little shit was fast.
No, I had to be practical. Fleeing wasn’t practical. Not yet, especially since it would also spur them into uniting to work as a team to catch me. Right now, they were at loggerheads, and that was better for me. It made more sense to stay still until an opportunity to run came my way. In the meantime, I’d allow them to think I was totally defenseless. The truth was … I wasn’t.
Still clutching my pendant, I flicked the hidden clasp at the top of it to separate it from the chain. Busy posturing and arguing with each other, they didn’t notice as I spread the thick angel wings open wide … exposing the partially blocked wing that was actually a concealed blade. Slightly curved, it was no longer than a paperclip, but it was razor sharp.
Firmly gripping the blunt wing—which was actually the handle—I put my fist beside my thigh and slid the bladed wing beneath it.
“If she accepted and loved my dad like you say she does, she’d see him a fuck of a lot more than twice a year,” said Ricky.
Reed snorted. “Well of course she doesn’t go see him more than that. How would it look to others if she did? You’ve never cared about fitting in and not attracting attention. The rest of us do.”
“I’m telling you, Reed, she doesn’t understand him or you. Look at her. Look into her eyes. Do you really see acceptance there? I don’t. I see nothing. Like she’s doing her best to hide what’s going on in her head.”
Reed didn’t speak. Just stood there, face flushed. He flicked me a quick look and then sighed. “I’m going to find something I can use to splint her wrist with.”
That was the Reed I knew. When he didn’t like what he heard, he put his mind to a task. That worried me, because it meant that Ricky’s words were making him question his own judgement.
“Watch her, but don’t touch her,” Reed warned him. He cast me a brief glance and then disappeared behind the altar.
There was the sound of a door clicking shut, and then Ricky turned to me with a smirk. “He wants to take you home with him, Kensey,” Ricky taunted, walking toward me. “Wants to keep you for himself. He says it’s to protect you and so he doesn’t have to kill you. But you know it’s more than that. You know what he’ll do to you.” Reaching me, Ricky leaned forward and drew a line along my neck with his finger as he added, “Just like you know you’d never put out for him unless he held a knife to your throat. He’d do that. He would. It wouldn’t matter to him if you died while he raped you. No, Reed likes to fuck the dead more than he likes to fuck the living.”
The blood drained from my face. Sickened to the core, I almost gagged.
Ricky laughed. “You should see your face, Kensey. You should—”
I rammed the blade into his trachea. I wasn’t going to lie, it was hard and turned my stomach but … “Rather you than me, Ricky.” I twisted the blade so the wound wouldn’t close and then yanked it out. He staggered backward, trying to take jerky, panicked breaths. Then I bolted.
I dashed to Ricky’s truck and pulled on the handle. The door flew open. No keys. I punched the seat. Goddammit.
Turning toward the tall gates at the end of the drive, my heart sank at the sight of the bulky padlock. Thrusting a hand into my hair, I twirled. There was nowhere to go except for the shabby cemetery. And when I heard Reed’s curses echoing inside the church, I knew I had no other option. I took off.
With adrenaline pumping through me, I ran through the rusted iron archway and through the overgrown grass on shaky legs, ignoring the compulsion to look back. The rain had stopped, and weak shafts of sunlight broke through the occasional break in the dark clouds. There were no scents of rot out there. Just wet stone and damp earth. I would have greedily inhaled it if my entire being wasn’t so focused on simply fleeing.
Beneath the sounds of birds chirping and tree branches creaking, I could hear boots pounding down the stone steps.
“Kensey!” roared Reed.
Fuck. I put on a burst of speed. Even though my muscles ached and it felt like my brain was bouncing in my skull, I didn’t stop. Just ran aimlessly, no destination in mind, through a maze of crumbling statues and discolored headstones.
Although I was faster than Reed, he could still catch me. After all, I wasn’t exactly in tip-top shape. And I was betting that Ricky wouldn’t be far behind him. Oh, the guy would be having some trouble breathing without pain, sure, but I doubted that one single stab wound to his trachea would have killed him.
I tried putting on another burst of speed, but it was hard while the grass was so thick and lush. Also, my wet jeans seemed to weigh me down, rubbing at my skin like sandpaper. Still, I kept going. There had to be another gate somewhere, right?
My pace faltered slightly as a cramp began to prick my side. Shit. My throat burned with every frantic breath, and I was hoping to the high heavens that I didn’t go into a fit of coughing.
Questions rattled around my brain …
Were they far away?
Had I left a trail?
Could they hear me?
Surely there had to be another goddamn gate, didn’t there?
It wouldn’t—
I tripped over something and tumbled onto my hands and knees. Agony rocketed through my broken wrist. Black spots dotted my vision. For a few seconds, I stayed there, heaving air into my lungs. My sore body didn’t want to get up, but I didn’t have time to rest or recoup, I needed to move.
Get up, I told myself. Get fucking up.
Realizing I’d dropped my blade, I glanced around, but it was lost in the high grass. Silently cursing, I blew away the stray strands of hair from my face and grabbed a nearby crumbling headstone as I got to my feet. Still breathing hard, I pushed on.
Ignoring its protests, I forced my body back into a run and skirted through the trees toward the rear of the wrought iron fence. Branches and wild shrubbery occasionally snagged my T-shirt or abraded the skin of my face and arms.
Honestly, I was surprised that neither Ricky nor Reed had caught up with me yet. My pace was slowing, and the aches in my body were becoming too much. My lungs now burned just as badly as my throat, and the cramp in my side panged with every step. My muscles seemed heavy and jelly-like; it felt more like I was wading through sludge than running—
I tripped over some bracken and fell to my hands and knees again. Motherfucker. Pain once more ripped through my wrist. Eyes tearing up, I choked on the agonized moan that built in my chest.
“Kensey!” Reed.
I tensed. He was close, but not too close.
“There’s no point in running, Kensey! We’ll find you! There’s only one way in and out of this cemetery, and you’re nowhere near it! Just stay still; we’ll come find you!”
Gritting my teeth against the agony searing through my wrist, I scrambled backward on my butt until I hit a tree. Using the thick oak for support, I slowly stood upright, chest still heaving.
As I struggled to control my breathing, I listened hard for sounds of Reed and Ricky. But all I could hear was the wind whistling through the high grass and making the tree branches groan. Then again, it was difficult to hear anything while my heart thumped so hard in my chest that it was like a drumbeat in my ears.
I pressed down on my breastbone with the heel of my good hand as I took deep, shuddering breaths. The faint sheen of sweat on my forehead was dripping down my temples, making the slash there sting. I was just thankful that the damn thing wasn’t dripping blood like a tap.
Grass rustling.
Covering my mouth with my hand to muffle my rasping breaths, I held myself very still. The sounds had come from behind me, and I couldn’t tell if it was one person or two. My lips and chin trembled. No, I wasn’t going to die here. Not here. Not like this.
There was a horrible sound. Like someone struggling to breathe through a Darth Vada mask or something. Ricky. And he was coming closer. And closer. And closer.
Soon, he was sidling up to my tree. He wasn’t moving fast enough for me to slide out my foot and trip him up as he past, but … I slowly and quietly lifted my arm, getting into position. He took another step forward and, before he had the chance to spot me in his peripheral vision, I rammed my elbow into his throat.
Eyes bulging, he slapped his hand to his neck, making a horrid choking noise. I backed away, ready to turn and run. My heel caught on something and I landed awkwardly on my back and elbows. Then Ricky was on me, wrapping his hands around my throat and squeezing hard.
Fighting the instinct to claw at his hands, I dug my fingers through a wad of blood-stained tissue right into his wounded trachea. One of his hands automatically flew to his neck while the other loosened its hold on me. That was all I needed. I surged up and slammed my forehead into his nose. Crack. Blood sprayed out of his nostrils. I scrabbled backward to get away, but fingers snapped tight around my ankle.
I blindly probed the ground with my hand. Found a rock. With a feral grin, I reared up and smashed it into his head. Or I would have done if he hadn’t been yanked out of the way by Reed, who tossed him aside.
Reed snarled at him. “You really are a stupid fuck.” He rounded on me. “What the hell did you think running would achieve? Huh? You don’t think I have better shit to do than chase you through a damn cemetery? I try to help you. I share my secrets with you. And what do you do? Run. Ricky was right; you just told me what I wanted to hear.”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t make a run for it, Reed? I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be anyone’s prisoner. I want to go home.”
“Oh, you’ll go home. You’ll go to your new home. Or you’ll die in that church, right on my altar, and then you’ll be with me forever. Either way, you’re staying with me.” He held up my pendant-slash-knife. “Found this on the ground. Clever. You never told me this was self-defense jewelry,” he griped, as if I’d betrayed him as a friend. “Now get up.”
“Can’t. Twisted my ankle.” Not really, but it would be better if he thought I couldn’t run anymore.
At that moment, Ricky stood upright, glaring. Not at me. At Reed, who was oblivious to it. Wicked fast, Ricky dived at him, wrestled the knife out of his hand, and stabbed him in the eye. Well, fuck.
Reed staggered back with a wild cry. Before I could even try to stand, Ricky was on me again, knife poised to strike. I grabbed his wrist and pushed hard, trying to keep him at bay. But the bastard put his weight behind the strike and the knife lowered toward my throat inch by inch. If my other hand hadn’t been absolutely useless, I could have struck him, scratched him, something. Instead, I had to watch the knife get closer and closer and—
“Police! Drop your weapon!”
Both Ricky and I froze. I knew that voice. It had yelled at me enough times over the years while giving me grief.
“Drop it now!” Joshua ordered.
“You, freeze!” commanded another voice. Bartley. I wondered if he was talking to Reed, who was still groaning in pain.
Above me, Ricky shook his head in what looked like denial. “No,” he wheezed. “Can’t be happening. No.”
“Drop. Your. Weapon!” Joshua again ordered.
“If you don’t fucking shoot the son of a bitch, I will!”
I almost closed my eyes in relief at the sound of Blake’s voice. He was here. He’d come.
“Okay,” wheezed Ricky. “I’ll drop it.” Straightening, he ever so slowly raised the knife. His hand inched to the side, as if he’d lower the blade to the ground. But then an ugly smirk curved his mouth, and I knew what he’d do.
I twisted my body out of the way and—
A sharp crack split the air.
I stayed very still until I heard the knife tinkle to the ground near my head. I realized I was right and he’d meant to ram it into the side of my neck. Dismayed, he looked at the wound in his shoulder as I scuttled backward on my elbows. Behind him, Reed was on his knees, fingers linked behind his head, eyes—or one eye—on the ground. Still, I didn’t feel safe; didn’t feel far enough away from them. Not until a familiar set of arms carefully lifted me.
I burrowed into Blake, clutching his shirt with a trembling hand. I drew in a deep breath through my nose, inhaling his scent and letting it sink in that he was here.
He looked down at me, taking in my injuries, and his face set into a mask of torment. “Ah, baby, fuck.”
“Most of it happened in the crash.” Throat thick, I bit my lip, afraid I was going to cry like a girl. “I wasn’t sure you’d get here in time.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “If they hadn’t brought you out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere, we’d have reached you a lot sooner.”
“Take her away from here,” Joshua told him. “We’ve got this.”
“I want my five minutes with those fuckers when this is over,” said Blake.
I looked at Joshua and warned, “Brace yourself before you go in the church. What you’ll see in there ain’t pretty.”