Chapter Twenty-Three
Colt’s been sending me the letters? Isla’s mind couldn’t comprehend it. She scrambled over the couch and ran into the kitchen heading for the back door. Cold hands pulled her back and she screamed.
“Shut the fuck up, Jordan.” She pushed away but he quickly pinned her against the granite counter. “You scream again, and I’m going to cut your fucking throat.”
Isla raised her hands. “Okay … okay … just relax.” Colt stepped back a little and stared at her. “Why did you call me Jordan?”
Colt shook his head. “You don’t even remember me.”
“How could I? I’ve never been to Omaha.”
“Does Justin Varner ring a bell in that stupid head of yours?” His eyes flashed angrily.
He wants to hurt me or kill me. I have to stay calm. Do I know him? I don’t.
“Do you know the name or not?” Spittle formed in the corners of his mouth.
“No,” Isla said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“You fucking bitch!” he screamed, his face mere inches from hers.
Anger shot through her. “Just fucking tell me.” A loud crack bounced off the walls as the sting of his hand across her cheek shot through her.
“You’re the same as you were in high school—an arrogant, diva bitch.”
High school? “I thought you were from Omaha.”
“I’m from here, Jordan. I was in your goddamn class at Jefferson, but you were so busy thinking you were hot shit because you were the lead in all the musicals that you didn’t pay attention to anyone who wasn’t in your circle.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t belong to a circle. I just loved to sing. And why didn’t you tell me you went to Jefferson? Why the lies? Why did you send me those letters?”
His nostrils flared as he jabbed a finger in her face. “You thought you were so damn clever hiring bodyguards, but they weren’t around when I slashed your tires, or when your car broke down, or at the gym.”
“That was all you? Even when I was in the pool?”
“The inept guy at the front desk believed my lie about one of the machines not working. He left his post. It was so easy.”
“Why? I still don’t understand.” How am I going to get away from this nut? I have to buy time. Wait … what the fuck am I buying time for? No one knows I’m in danger. Her chin tremored and she bit the inside of her mouth to stop it. I can’t just let him hurt me. I have to figure out a way out of this craziness.
“Remember a chubby guy who everyone bullied at school? That was me. The only time I had any peace and felt like I was a part of anything was when I worked on sets for the theater and music department. I fucking asked you out and you said yes, but you never showed. I sat at the counter in Bartell’s Drugstore for two fucking hours! You made a fool out of me. You all did.” He leaned in close again. “Now who’s the fool?”
Isla could smell the musky sweat rolling off him as she felt the color drain from her face upon the realization that the man responsible for cutting short the lives of Sharla, Taylor, Carrie, and Lizabeth was in front of her. She had no doubt in her mind that he planned the same fate for her. If only I could contact Sangre.
“Do you remember me now, Jordan?”
Think. My damn life depends on it. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.”
“Bullshit! That’s what Taylor said before I drained the life out of her. Sharla, Carrie, and Lizabeth always looked at me with disdain. Did you know I volunteered to do the sets for the play Sharla was in? She wouldn’t even talk to me during rehearsals. Acted like I was a fucking untouchable. What a bitch! They all were. They knew who I was and they acted like they were better than me when I’d say hi to them on the street or see them in social situations. They didn’t change one fucking iota from high school. They got what they deserved.”
“I never treated you like that. I’ve always been friendly to you, Colt.”
“I’m Justin.” He rubbed his temples. “Don’t fucking mix me up. You’re the same bitch as you were in high school. You don’t even remember me.”
“Did my moving back to Alina trigger all this with you?”
“No. It was just luck that you moved in next door. I was planning to go to LA and pay you a visit. I even told Faith I had to go to Southern California on a business trip, but then you came to me. At last.”
From the recesses of her mind, a shy, pudgy boy crawled out. I remember him. He used to stare at my breasts all the time. He creeped me out. There’s no way I would’ve made a date with him. “I do remember you, Justin. Just now. You worked behind the scenes, and I was nice to you.”
“You fucking teased me. Just like you do now with your shorts and tits.”
“I never made a date with you. I was going out with Jay.”
“You’re a whore. You dated him and now are screwing Steve.”
Think back. Then the fog cleared. I remember. I bumped into him in the hall and he asked me if I wanted to go and get a milkshake with him the next day after school. I said yes, but that night Dad beat the shit out of me. I didn’t go to school for two weeks. “I remember now,” Isla said softly. “I didn’t stand you up to be mean or because I was teasing you. I couldn’t go because my dad … well … I got in trouble and was grounded for two weeks.” You can’t even tell the truth about what Dad did to save your own life.
“I don’t believe you. You always flirted with me. You were like my girlfriend.”
Isla knew it was hopeless to explain things to him; he was in too deep. His delusions made him remember things that never happened. She put her hands behind her on the counter, and that’s when she felt the cable. My microphone. Slowly, she inched her fingers toward it.
The front doorbell rang. “Open up, Isla.” Mark’s voice soothed her, connecting her to the real world and giving her hope.
Colt turned around and that’s when she grabbed her mike and slammed it with all her might against his head.
“Ow! Fuck!” Blood streamed down the side of his face as he brought his hands to his head.
Isla bolted from the room and dashed toward the front door, but Colt recovered faster than she’d anticipated, and he came running out of the kitchen. She took the stairs two at a time and went into her bedroom and locked the door behind her. Her pulse raced, and the sound of her heartbeat thrashed in her ears. Breathing heavily, she sprinted over to the French doors, flung them open, and stepped out onto the balcony.
“Mark! Help me. Break the windows. He’s coming for me.” Isla looked down, but the drop was too far. The door groaned as Colt slammed his body weight against it over and over. She ran into her walk-in closet, closed the door, and hid in the corner, praying that he’d think she’d climbed down the balcony. She took out her phone and called Sangre. No answer. She called 911, but hung up when she heard the door splinter. Her heart leapt in her throat as she sat in the dark waiting to see if she would live or die.