Mason stood beside me as I looked up and down the corridor, giving me no hints as to what door had what behind it. Twelve doors, and I had to pick seven in seven days.
“What’s the catch to this?” I turned and asked him. He looked at me but he didn’t answer. Ever since the birth control topic had come up, he’d been more withdrawn than usual.
I had to remind myself that he was just a man. He was strong, cold, and painfully ruthless, but he was still just a man, and he had feelings. I had no idea what kind of things went on his head. I hated that I could unintentionally hurt him.
“No catch. You just have to deal with whatever you find on the other side,” he explained.
“Why can’t you just tell me?” I muttered, more to myself than to him.
“Its better this way.”
With a jerky nod, I began to move again.
1…2…3…4…
“This one.” I gestured to the fourth door on my right.
“Are you sure?” Mason asked, studying me in the way he always did.
I nodded, trying to ignore the sweat building up on my palms.
“Go ahead. It’s open.” The grin on his face and the gleam in his eye had me regretting my decision. Exhaling a shaky breath, I opened the door and slowly walked inside. As soon as my eyes landed on the girl in the middle of the room, I immediately wanted to backtrack.
What was she doing here?
“Mason.” I looked at him, alarmed, confusion clear in my tone. “Why is she here?”
“Because she hurt you,” he answered slowly, like that should have been my first conclusion.
I glanced back at the pretty redhead restrained to one of the altered dental chairs.
She had hurt me, but it was with words, not physical violence. Macy used to come into the diner where I worked and make countless comments about me, laughing loudly for added measure.
I wasn’t really sure why she didn’t like me. Janice, my old boss, said it was because some people were just assholes—judgmental, stuck-up assholes who thought the world owed them something.
“How did you get her here?” I kept my attention on Macy, who had now turned her head to stare at me. Oddly, I didn’t exactly feel guilt, seeing her like this.
“I pretended I was going to fuck her,” he openly admitted.
“Did you touch her?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it, and it sounded angrier than I’d intended. Mason’s face split with a Cheshire cat-like grin.
“If I did?” he taunted.
I swallowed and bit my tongue. My amoral kidnapper had taken another girl, who I knew wasn’t going to have a graceful death, and all I could worry about was whether he’d touched her in an intimate way.
No, Katie, you’re not screwed up at all. This is perfectly normal for a twenty-three year old girl. Everyone in love wants to commit murder out of jealousy.
“Jesus, Katie. Would you like me to tattoo your name across my cock? Would that prove I don’t want anyone else?” By the end of his ridiculous statement, he’d grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around to face him.
“What are you going to do with her?”
He shook his head at me, acknowledging my swift subject change. “I’m not going to do anything. I told you to handle it, and that’s how it’s going to go.” Shooting a glance over my shoulder, he dropped his hands and stepped back into the hallway.
“You have one hour.”
What?
I opened my mouth to object, but the door was already slamming in my face.
How long had it been? Twenty minutes? Ten? What happened if Mason came back and Macy was still alive?
He could hurt Annie…
And why would that be a bad thing?
I groaned in frustration and leaned my head back against a lower cabinet. I’d moved across the room so that Macy was directly in front of me. I didn’t feel any way particular about my predicament.
I was waiting to feel the anguish from what I assumed needed to be done, but I just felt…blank. Pushing off the floor, I approached the chair and studied Macy’s face.
Clumps of mascara were smeared on her cheeks, and a decent sized bruise was on the side of her neck.
“Should I take the gag off?” I asked myself.
No—then, she’ll never shut up.
Good point; she was already trying to tell me something, but I bypassed her to look around the room. The door was locked, and there weren’t any shiny tools like the other rooms had—so what was I supposed to do?
The cabinets were the last place I checked. Standing from the plush sofa I had dramatically sat down on, I made a beeline across the stone floor to the cabinetry. On the bottom shelf in the right hand corner was a white bottle with a picture of a grill on it.
Lighter fluid.
Beside the bottle was a small book of matches. He couldn’t really expect me to light this girl on fire? But, of course he did. Was it considered giving up if I didn’t do it? I’m sure Mason would twist it that way. He was adroit at twisting words.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhaled a deep breath and then slowly let it out.
If I didn’t do it, someone else would, right? Then, I would have forfeited for nothing. Mason may not let me be after I went home, but at least I’d be home. I could tell myself I cared what happened to Annie, and not lay awake wondering about what ifs.
Mind made up, I quickly unscrewed the little red cap from the lighter fluid before turning to face Macy again. Her doe brown eyes bulged at the sight of it.
“Um…” I licked my lips, trying to find the right choice of words. How did I nicely explain that I was going to light her on fire?
Why bother? She never gave you the same respect.
“Okay,” I hyped myself one last time and squeezed the bottle, aiming the stream of fluid in Macy’s direction. She squealed, but was helpless to defend herself. Just like the chair in Mason’s house, the straps around her wrists were embedded in her flesh.
Another wrapped around her forehead, giving her limited mobility when she tried to turn her neck. I scrunched my nose up at the potent smell that rose in the air. I squirted the liquid until the bottle became virtually weightless, soaking her black shirt, hair, and denims.
Sitting the container on the stone floor, I wiped my sweaty palms on the fabric of my summer dress, and then retrieved the matches. I looked back at Macy and felt nothing but pity. She was whimpering loudly, her limbs trembling violently.
All the times she’d called me a freak and claimed I would always be alone surfaced in my brain.
You aren’t alone now.
In spite of the situation, I felt my mouth turn up at the corners. I hadn’t felt alone in months—funny how that worked out. I never would have pictured a future like this before Mason. Now, it all seemed…normal. What I was about to do didn’t feel like some horrible, unjust act.
It took me three strikes to get a match lit; I held the burning stick and gave Macy my best apologetic look.
“I hope you burn fast,” I stated awkwardly.
Her hair seemed the best place to start, and as soon as the small flame got near one of the kerosene-drenched strands, it spread.
I took a few fast steps back, my heart lurching my chest as her head was engulfed in fire. I’d never heard a human-being make the sounds she was.
The smell was terrible; it reminded me of the time I got a rug caught in the vacuum cleaner. Her skin began to peel backward and gradually spread apart. Something fatty oozed from her pores. If I had to be frank, the sight was almost fascinating.
My pulse raced and I curled my fingers into my hands.
I’m not sure how long I’d stood staring at her, when suddenly someone was pulling me towards the hall and Declan was spraying the chair down with a fire extinguisher.