The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I gripped all the answers in my trembling hand.
“Jackson,” I mumbled, fear consuming me, scared to turn around but even more terrified of keeping my back to him.
I slowly turned on my heel, facing the killer in front of me. The look he wore caused my breathing to hitch. He was Jackson, but he wasn’t. The man before me stared at me with hatred in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. I tried to force the lump in my throat down, but it fought me every step of the way, trying to claw its way to the surface.
“It’s you.” My voice was a shaky whisper, the words themselves scared of the consequences.
“You caught me!” He held his arms out in surrender and then began to laugh. His eerie chuckle echoed in the bedroom we had shared for so many years.
“You killed those people. You killed Amie.” I couldn’t believe I was so wrong this whole time. I was sleeping next to a killer. Married to one, and I didn’t even realize it.
I held out the tattered sheet of paper in front of me, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I sure did. And I loved every fucking minute of it.” He licked his lips and stared at my body like he was ready to devour me. I had to leave.
“You’re crazy!” I shouted. My feet began to move. I had to get away from him before I became his next victim.
“Aw, baby, you have no fucking idea.” He was amused at this whole situation, and I knew I didn’t have much time. His voice followed closely behind me as I fled the bedroom.
Escape.
He brushed past me and slammed his shoulder into mine before walking over to his recliner and pulling out the flask he kept in the side pocket for safekeeping.
“I have to get out of here.” The words weren’t meant for Jackson, they were for me.
“Sure you do. You can run but you can’t hide.” His words stabbed me like a knife as he pressed the metal container to his lips and took a long pull.
I wasn’t on his list, but I was part of his plan—I had no doubt about it. Not to mention Mama and Sara. I couldn’t allow this to happen. My eyes darted to the hand-held gun case that sat on the table a few feet away from me.
“I like the runners. The thrill of the chase.” He took another swig of his liquor and raked his hand across his sweaty forehead, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. I was so disappointed in myself for not realizing this sooner. I could have stopped this a long time ago. But I didn’t.
“That boss you loved so much, she was fast.” He gave me an evil grin and stared past me, as if he were recalling the memory. “But not fast enough.” He made a stabbing gesture and I felt the bile in my stomach rise into my throat.
He was a fucking psychopath.
“I hate you.” I took a few steps backward, until my bottom hit the side of the table.
“You think I don’t know that. You made that clear a long time ago. When you chose that fucking bitch over me. And that head-case fucking mother of yours. Your sweet little family fucking disgusts me. But don’t worry, their time is coming.” The venom he spat at me ran up my spine. I pressed my hands behind my back and opened the gun case when I noticed a shiny metal knife sticking out of his belt loop.
Just as my eyes focused on his weapon, he decided to retrieve it and held it close to his face, admiring it with a grin.
I couldn’t be naïve anymore. I was next. I knew that with everything inside of me. And if I were dead, I couldn’t protect Mama. Or Sara. Or Jake. Or any other innocent person he decided to slaughter for sport.
I gripped the gun in my hand and pointed it at Jackson, trying to keep my hands from trembling.
“What the fuck do you think you’re going to do with that, Rachel? You’ve never shot a gun in your life.” He shook his head and pressed the flask to his lips once again, taking two steps closer to me.
“You won’t hurt anyone else. I won’t let you.” My finger held firm on the trigger, knowing the chamber was already loaded.
“Be a good little girl and put the gun down, Rachel. You know you don’t have the guts anyway.” His condescending tone fueled my anger as I held the pistol firmly.
“Fuck you,” I spat.
“You wanna know why? Because you’re weak. You’ve always been weak. You’ll always be weak.”
The loud crack startled me as Jackson stumbled backward. The smoking gun still gripped tightly in my hand. I stared as he slid down the wall, blood seeping through his gray cotton shirt and spilling onto the carpet fibers.
My feet remained frozen to the ground as he began to moan, crimson forming around his lips, dripping down his chin.
“Fucking bitch.” He stared in my direction with a smirk before his eyes rolled back and then closed, his mouth hanging open.
Escape.
Escape.
Escape.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.” The realization of what I’d just done came crashing down on me. I ran out the door, locking it behind me and went to the only place I knew to go.
Just a few minutes later, I pulled up to Sara’s house, my drive over nothing but a blur. I jumped out of my car and looked in all directions, hoping and praying I wasn’t being followed. Or caught.
I jerked the front door open and fell to the floor, unable to hold my own weight a second longer.
“Oh shit. Rach, what is it?” Sara was at my side, crouched on the floor beside me with Jake on the other.
“It’s him. It was him.” My body shook, the last hour flashing through my mind.
“Who? Duane? Talk to me.” She begged, moving in front of me and drawing my chin up to her.
“Jackson. He did it. All of it. And I shot him.” I began to hyperventilate.
“Breathe. Just breathe.” She rubbed my shoulder and I saw Jake launch to his feet beside me.
“Where is he?” Jake’s demanding tone scared me. I couldn’t answer him. “Rachel, where is he? Where’s the gun?” His voice commanded my attention and I looked up at him.
“At my house. I don’t want to go to jail. He was going to kill all of us.” I tried to defend my actions and then looked around the living room, thankful that I didn’t see Mama anywhere.
“He had a list. With names of those he’d killed. And the ones he planned to.” My voice was hoarse and my throat felt as if razor blades were raking across it.
But I had to get this out.
“You were next Sara. And Mama.” My body shook as I recalled the sheet of paper that I’d left on my living room floor.
Jake stalked past me and went out the door that led to their garage, and I continued. “I had to do it. I had to protect you. I couldn’t let him get to either one of you.”
“You don’t have to convince me of anything, Rachel.” Sara tried to console me as Jake reappeared, holding his own duffle bag this time, and then knelt in front of me.
“Do you trust me?” His voice was soft, but controlled. “Sara is my life. And you and Johanna are my family. Do you trust me?” he repeated once more.
“Yes.”
“I’ll take care of this.” Both Jake and Sara stood as I stared up at them.
“Be careful. I love you,” she whispered before standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his.
“I love you. And I got this.” He stormed out, gripping the bag at his side, leaving Sara and me staring at the door.
“He can handle this,” Sara spoke after a few seconds of silence.
“I know.” I trusted him.
“You won’t be punished for doing what was necessary.”
I simply nodded, unable to reply.
But I knew the truth.
I did what I had to do. I couldn’t allow him to hurt anyone anymore.
Revenge was never part of my plan; I just wanted to escape and keep my family safe. But I wouldn’t regret my actions.
He deserved what he got.