Levin

A man who’s stalking me is the witness at my wedding to a cold-blooded killer. This would make for good reality TV. Isn’t there a show called my ‘Crazy Ex’ on Lifetime? This scenario would take the cake, literally and figuratively.

My dress is itchy on my skin, and it takes all my concentration not to scratch at it—the feeling of ants crawling underneath the surface a very real sensation at the present moment.

Father Roberts is reading passages, and I divert my attention between my sensitive skin and the text and phone call I made to 911. By some miracle, does Jake have my phone? Does he think I just left? No, he wouldn’t. He knew I felt like I was in danger. There had to have been a puddle of water on the floor from the tub.

I finger the small tears in the dress where Alec had clawed at me in the kitchen. I’m despondent thinking that no one knows where I am.

All these people knew I was on the run, but no one knew to look for me.

My only hope is that the resort is suspicious since I didn’t show up for my shift. They might think I’m flaky or didn’t take work seriously, but Amada would tell them. She would also alert Maddy. Jake presumably would also be concerned. He might think I left town since my stuff left with me.

Maybe water was left in the tub, and it raised the level of alarm?

Could I get the phone and try 911 again or check to see if my text had gone through?

I thought someone had answered the 911 call before I hung up, but now that I think about it, all I heard was static.

My panic rises as I grasp the reality that I might be stuck with Alec after the ceremony and what that means.

I might not be dead today, or tonight, but I was dead. 

There’s no way in hell Alec is keeping me around. He wants the money.

If we marry, and I die, it goes to him.

The priest turns to me and smiles. “Levin, do you have anything you want to say?”

“Yes, Father Roberts.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to marry him. Not today, not ever.”

The stunned look on Alec’s face is replaced by hatred. 

His blind rage is apparent, but I figure my chances with two witnesses, albeit one a priest and one an accomplice, are better than none.

After the ceremony, I’ll be stuck alone with Alec, tortured, most certainly raped, then killed.

Father Roberts searches my face for a sign that I’m being facetious or even kidding. But the fear in my eyes and dilated pupils tell a different story.

“Let’s give the lady some time to breathe.” He puts down his bible.

Alec fakes a smile. “Let’s step away a second.” He’s pulling me out of earshot. He keeps it plastered on and whispers under his breath, “You stupid bitch. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance. If you go back inside or try to get help, I’ll fucking strangle you the way I strangled your dear friend.”

I burn holes into Alec as I stare at him, then I turn back to Father Roberts.

The last thing I want is to get Father Roberts hurt. I know what Alec is capable of and with George, there’s no telling what they would do. I doubt that he’s excused from Alec’s wrath just because he’s a man of God.

I weight my options. George has a gun. Alec has a knife. They have the control.

But I have the money.

I place my bets and roll the dice.

“Let’s go,” I say to him. “Please, let’s go now. I’m being held against my will.”

Once more he looks at me, unsure how to respond, an uncomfortable silence follows. I can tell he’s concerned but doesn’t know me or what to do at this point.

“Why don’t we go inside, and we can discuss this?” Father Roberts is agonized after my outburst. He’s rubbing his hands together as if he can wash away the unease.

He’s at an impasse—his duty is to officiate a wedding, not a funeral. And I imagine the last thing he expected when he arrived today was to be walking into a crime scene.

I start to follow the priest, but Alec pulls me to the side, his grip on my arm matches his tone. The priest is now further ahead of me out of earshot.

Alec takes the opportunity to wrap his hands around my neck cutting off my circulation.

“You’re going to finish your vows without one more outburst, do you understand?” I can’t even open my mouth to respond. “Or this will be the last breath you take.”

I’m gasping, choking for air, as he squeezes, intent on sucking the air out of my lungs.

I’m dead, vows or not. He’ll kill me now or later.

“You’re going to apologize to Father Roberts, say this is a bad joke.” He’s grasping his ear as he lets go of me.

I want to scream for the priest, but George makes sure to keep him occupied, their voices hushed ahead of us. He hasn’t the slightest clue what’s going on.

So close but so far away.