Chapter Twenty-One

 

Springfield, Illinois…

Tamara

There’s a man lying at my feet, bleeding out on the sidewalk.

People are running away from me, ducking behind mailboxes and cars, screaming. People are staring at me through the glass storefront windows, mouths making enormous Os of shock and horror. They’re looking at me like I’m a monster.

They don’t know what kind of man he was. I imagine they’ll find out soon enough, when they see the evening news.

Jonas Coulter was a social worker. He was a pedophile. He hired a fancy lawyer and managed to get the charges thrown out because he wasn’t read his Miranda rights, and even got his job back.

He was on Joshua’s list. But Joshua was taking too long to get to him.

Just like the last three I took care of.

Unlike Joshua, I’m not into torture. I got in, took them out with one shot, and got out. I used a different gun in each shooting. None of the men had ties to each other, and they were all in different states, so the police never connected the dots, but I know Joshua must have.

I waited for him to come find me, but he never did.

So I upped my game.

I eliminated Jonas Coulter in broad daylight, right on a crowded street corner, during his lunch break, on his first day back at work. The world is a better place without him.

I hear sirens, so I very carefully set the gun down on the sidewalk by my feet, and I wait.

Not so long ago, Joshua Smith kidnapped a girl. A frightened girl who had no idea of the true evil that exists in the world. And now he’s finally pushed me too far. He’s committed the one unforgivable sin.

He abandoned me and broke my heart. He made our love a lie.

I’m not a broken, frightened girl anymore. Now I’m a woman. A very angry woman, who knows her own worth and who will not be trifled with again. A woman with nothing to lose.

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know I was going to kill Jonas Coulter. But I tucked a gun in my purse and found myself wandering downtown, right past his office building. And now…

I hear gurgling. I smell blood. I close my eyes and search for peace.

This feels familiar. I’ve come full circle from the night I saw Joshua as he really was for the first time. The night he took me. The night he killed the security guard and invited me into his world of love and madness.

I open my eyes and look down at Jonas Coulter and feel nothing but emptiness. Not the release I sought.

“Are you sorry now?” I ask, but it’s not him I’m speaking to. It’s Joshua.

* * *

Astrid will be arriving to visit me soon.

I feel badly she came all this way, but it will be nice to see her again. I’m being held in a hospital for the criminally insane, just outside Springfield.

After I was arrested, Joshua came to the jail and tried to come and speak to me, but I turned him away. My whole body ached with longing for him, but I stayed strong. It’s April. He sent me away in November. It’s been four months. It’s too late for him to say sorry.

Then he hired a lawyer who came and tried to speak to me.

As soon as the lawyer started trying to give me messages from Joshua, I held up my hand and told him to shut up if he wanted to keep representing me. He had a worried look on his face.

“Joshua said that I had to give his messages to you. He made it very clear what would happen to me if I didn’t.”

Should I feel pity for him? I couldn’t tell. All my emotions seem to have been leached out of me. Pity, love, hate, hope, desire. I feel nothing. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel anything again. No, that’s not entirely true. I feel anger. A lot of anger.

When the lawyer kept talking, when he disrespected my one request, when he said, “Joshua says he missed you every single day and— Ahhhh!” I got angry and jammed my pen right through his hand. Because hearing about Joshua or even thinking about Joshua is the only thing that has the power to hurt me these days, and I think I’ve suffered enough for one life time, thank you very much.

After that, I received a public defender and I wasn’t allowed to have pens anymore. Only crayons. The public defender was the one who got me moved to the mental hospital. He says it will be easy for him to get me a sentence of not guilty by reason of temporary insanity. After what Joshua’s brother did to me, obviously I suffered deep, long-lasting psychological damage. And when I saw the news stories about Jonas Coulter, I developed an obsession with him and blah blah blah… I stopped listening and nodded politely.

Sounds good.

Whatever.

I toy with telling them about the other three men I killed. I haven’t yet. I might someday, just for fun.

In the meantime, I’m content to be where I am. They have a good library here; I’m getting a lot of reading done. I’ve finally gotten my appetite back after months of barely forcing myself to choke down food. I’m eating all the time now, gaining weight. I’ve increased a clothing size at least.

The door to the room opens and Astrid comes in. She looks good. The circles are gone from under her eyes, and so is the pinched look of worry. Her hair is styled again, honey blonde, flat-ironed and shiny. She’s wearing a pale blue sweater and slacks. No purse, no coat—they must be holding them for her outside the room. She does have an apple Danish for me.

There’s a guard standing by the door, arms folded, watching my every move. The only furniture in the room is two folding chairs.

Astrid’s face is creased with pity as she reaches out to hug me.

“No touching!” The guard barks at her. Astrid shoots him an exasperated look and sinks down in the chair.

“Sorry,” I say to her apologetically. “Can’t get good help these days.” Astrid hands me the pastry, and I wolf it down.

“My God, Tamara. I’ve been so worried about you. But I talked to your lawyer and he seems optimistic.” She gives me a hopeful smile as she says that.

“Nothing to worry about,” I say. “I mean that, Astrid. I don’t want you to waste mental energy on me. I want you to concentrate on yourself and the kids. How are they doing?”

“Well, Joshua bought our house— Sorry,” she says, when she sees me twitch. “I won’t say that name again. Our house sold. We got a very good price for it, and we’re buying a house in Colorado. Starting fresh.”

“Any sign of…” I let the words trail off.

She manages a tight smile. “My ex-husband? He’s my ex now. I was granted a divorce. No, there’s no clue where he might be. We all know what happened to him, though, don’t we? Despite everything, I hope it was quick.”

But we both know it wasn’t.

“Anyway,” she continues, “the kids and I are going to testify during your trial. We’ll be character witnesses. I know the temporary insanity plea will work. The media coverage has been really sympathetic, you know. The publicist has people rallying for you. They’re calling you a hero for killing that scumbag.”

“Publicist?” I ask, then I see her wince.

Joshua.

He hired a publicist.

Fucking hell. I just want him to leave me alone.

Well, I want more than that. I want him never to have left me. I want him to break through these doors and carry me away… But I can’t have all that, so I want to forget he ever lived.

“Anyway. Change of subject. Alfredo says hi,” she says, shifting in the chair.

I’m momentarily baffled. “Who?”

“Oh. Sergeant Ruiz. Ex-sergeant. He lost his job when he came to California to rescue us. He’s doing security work now.” She’s blushing a little and looks away.

I actually feel a tiny spark of happiness for her, shining brightly above the dullness. “Alfredo, huh?”

She tries to hide her smile and fails. “We’re sort of dating, I guess.”

I arch a skeptical eyebrow. “How’s that work? Is that like being sort of a virgin or sort of dead?”

Astrid snorts and rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. We’re dating. He’s been flying out to Colorado to visit me and has a job lined up there. Is that weird? I mean, given how we met?”

“Not weird at all. You guys share a unique bond. And he’s a really good person, I could tell. He visited me in the hospital after I was rescued.”

“The kids like him a lot. My boys need a father figure.” She sounds a little defensive.

“Astrid. Seriously, I’m delighted.”

“Sorry.” She shifts in her seat, brushing imaginary lint off her pants with flattened palms. “I guess I feel like it’s a freaky way to meet a man, but…I really like him.”

“You deserve this, Astrid.”

“Thank you.” She looks at me with worry. “I feel like I failed you.”

“You did no such thing. I’m a big girl. I make my own decisions, and I live with the consequences. Nothing you could have said or done would have stopped me.” She doesn’t look convinced. “Astrid, you were the bravest person I’ve ever met when we were at Micah’s house, and the best mother. I will always be grateful for what you did for me. I want you to live your life and be happy and not worry about me at all. You don’t even have to come to the trial. You should put all this behind you.”

She reaches out and grabs my hand. “Never,” she says firmly.

“No touching!” the guard yells, louder this time.

After Astrid leaves, I settle back into my routine for the next few days, watching TV, reading, sleeping, eating. A lot.

One day I feel something weird in my stomach, something I can’t describe, and I ask to go to the clinic. They run tests, the nurse calls the doctor in, and they look at me with dismay.

And what the doctor says to me changes everything.

I call up my lawyer and beg him to ask Joshua to visit me.

A day goes by. Two days. I start to panic.

He’s not coming. He’s really not coming. If he doesn’t come… I can’t even think of it. I’ve lived in the darkness before, but this is my worst nightmare.