Run from Fear Page 32

  Chapter 22

  Rosie had no idea how much time had passed from the time Eugene had shot her up with something and shoved her into the trunk. That had been Friday morning. When she’d come to, she’d found herself in a room so dark she thought she’d been blindfolded. Her hands were bound behind her back and all of her clothes except her underpants and what felt like an oversized T-shirt had been removed and she shivered in the relentlessly cold, damp air.

  How long had it been? It was impossible to tell for certain, but she thought it had to be at least a day. Talia thought she was in Yosemite. Did she start to worry when Rosie didn’t touch base? Maybe she was already looking, with Jack’s help.

  The thought was a bright spot of hope in the otherwise dark, terrifying reality. She prayed, another in an endless string of pleas to the heavens, that her sister would find her before…

  She shuddered as visions of what she feared Eugene’s plans were crept through her consciousness. Though he hadn’t admitted as much, Rosie had read enough about the serial rapist who terrorized the area for the last several weeks to know that this was part of his MO.

  He drugged me, and when I woke up, I was in a cold room with concrete walls and floor.

  It was cold comfort that he still hadn’t raped her. So far the only contact was some groping of her breasts and crotch, on top of her clothes, no skin-to-skin contact. She knew he kept his victims for days, sometimes up to a week, before he cut them, raped them, and left them drugged and unconscious.

  But from the moment she’d come to and suspected who Eugene was, she felt an all-consuming dread that she most likely wasn’t going to be allowed to live.

  He kept me so tightly blindfolded, I never saw his face. All of the victims said the same thing.

  Rosie couldn’t make the same claim. Eugene had done nothing to hide his identity from her, not when he took her from the parking lot and not in the few times he’d come to visit her.

  Though she prayed Talia, Jack, and the rest of the world were looking for her, she knew it would be impossible for them to find this level of hell. She had to find a way out.

  Her head throbbed with dehydration and hunger. Eugene had given her only small sips of water and no food for as long as she’d been here.

  She heard the door scraping open and instinctively shrank back, crying out as the movement sent a shock of pain through her shoulders. The sudden illumination of the overhead light switching on sent a stab of pain through her head and she blinked back tears as her eyes started to adjust.

  “Miss me?” Eugene said. The sound of his voice made her skin prickle with revulsion. As her vision cleared, she stared up at him, at the bland features and dark eyes she’d once thought of as kind. How could she not have seen what was really underneath? Even Talia, so quick to see the devil in anyone, had bought his harmless, nice-guy facade.

  Her gaze snagged on the water bottle in his hand. Dripping with condensation. Her dust-dry tongue crept out to lick her cracked lips.

  “Thirsty?”

  She nodded, wishing she had it in her to play it tough, play it cool, but she was cold, tired, thirsty, and scared, and it was everything she could do not to crumble into a ball and sob for her sister.

  “You can have it, the whole thing.” He came closer, waving the bottle tauntingly. “But I need you to do something first.”

  A horrified shudder racked her body and she prepared herself for the worst. Just close your eyes and take yourself to another place.

  But he didn’t shove her back and rip off her underwear, didn’t grab her hair and drag her face to his crotch.

  “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not time for that yet.” Instead he took out a phone—her phone, she realized quickly, and held it up. “I just want to take your picture. Will you smile for the camera?”

  Rosie did as he told her.

  “Good girl,” he said, and she felt bile rise in her throat as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. He cracked the bottle and held it to her lips. She gulped it down, shivering as some spilled down her chin to soak the front of the T-shirt.

  As he withdrew the bottle, she looked behind his shoulder and saw that the door was cracked open, no more than a few inches. But if she could somehow get to it…

  “You’re such a good girl,” he said, sliding his hands up her legs. “Not like those other bitches, not like your sister.”

  “If I’m so good, why are you doing this to me?” she asked shakily, waiting for him to get closer, closer…

  “Because it will make her pain even worse.”

  “Who, Talia?” Rosie asked, momentarily distracted.

  “She’s always been the one.”

  The sick flare in his eyes at the mention of her sister spurred Rosie into action. As Eugene leaned forward, Rosie shot her head forward, catching Eugene square across the bridge of his nose with her forehead.

  He fell back on his ass and she surged up, her head swimming with vertigo as she made a desperate lunge for the door.

  She knew she was doomed before she took two steps. Eugene caught her by the hair and shoved her face-first onto the concrete floor. Pain exploded behind her eye as her cheekbone met the concrete at full speed. He drew back his foot and slammed it into her stomach. She gasped and curled into a ball, sobbing.

  “You really think you can get away from me, you stupid bitch?” Another kick bruised her ribs. “I can’t imagine why you’d want to leave,” he said with a laugh that was like spiders crawling on her skin, “when I need you to keep our guest of honor company.”

  Talia spent Saturday night at Danny and Caroline’s so Danny could stay at the hospital. She called Danny to check in after Anna went to sleep. Caroline and the baby were stable, but they wanted to keep her in the hospital a few more days, and then she’d be on full bed rest until the baby arrived.

  “Anna and I had a blast,” Talia reported. “If you need help with her, let me know. I’m happy to take her off your hands.”

  Danny rang off with a heartfelt thanks and a warning they’d most likely be taking her up on her offer. Oddly, Talia found herself hoping so. She had fun with Anna playing chase and princess and reading fairy tales.

  Which got her thinking about her own Prince Charming and what it might be like to have a little princess of her own.

  If only life was as uncomplicated as a fairy tale. But with everything between them in such a tangle, Talia didn’t have much hope of her and Jack finding their own happily-ever-after.

  On that glum thought, she retired to the guest room and spent a restless night missing Jack, envisioning him in his jail cell. The next morning she handed Anna off to her aunt Alyssa and uncle Derek and headed home. On the way, she called Charlie Ferguson, the lawyer Danny had hired to help Jack.

  He didn’t have much to report but Talia took some small comfort at his assertion that Jack’s bail prospects looked good.

  A little after two, Susie called and strong-armed her into coming by the restaurant the following morning to talk about her future employment. Talia spent the rest of the day catching up on laundry, paying bills, and grocery shopping. Rosie was supposed to be coming home today, so she called and left a message inviting her over for dinner.

  She got a text back from Rosie around six, asking Talia to come pick her up. When she arrived at the dorm, she called Rosie’s cell but got no answer. She went to the door, and one of Rosie’s dormmates recognized her and let her in. She went up to Rosie’s room and knocked. Dana answered in a bathrobe, her hair wrapped up in a towel.

  “Hey, I’m here to pick up Rosie.”

  Dana’s brows pinched over the bridge of her nose. “I thought she was staying with you again tonight.”

  “No,” Talia said, slowly shaking her head. “She was in Yosemite with you. She just texted me to come pick her up for dinner.”

  Dana shook her head, making the towel wobble. “She didn’t go to Yosemite. Friday right before we were supposed to leave, she texted me and told me she had t
o cancel because she didn’t want you to be alone.”

  “She didn’t—” Before she could complete the thought, her phone buzzed. “It’s from Rosie. ‘On my way from library meet me in back lot.’ ”

  What the hell was going on? After everything they’d been through, would Rosie really screw around like this? What reason would she have to lie about where she was spending the weekend?

  None of it made sense, and Talia couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. She said good-bye to Dana and went outside to the back lot. No sign of Rosie. She called her sister and thought she heard the phone ringing some distance away. But for whatever reason, Rosie wasn’t answering.

  The call went to voice mail and she immediately redialed. She heard the phone again, but she didn’t see anyone around except for a nondescript guy in a black hoodie getting out of his car a few yards away. This time she left a message. “Rosie, I don’t know where the hell you are or what’s going on, but you need to get over here right now.”

  The text came almost as soon as she hung up. Can’t. I’m a little tied up right now.

  The picture that came with it turned her knees to jelly. Rosie, her face tearstained and bruised, eyes wide with fear. Her arms bound behind her back, wearing nothing but a ratty T-shirt that barely came to the tops of her thighs.

  OhGodOhGodOhGod. He had her. He had Rosie. It was happening again, only this time someone had Rosie.

  “Hello, Talia.” She turned with a gasp and felt the sting of something stabbing into her neck. In a split second, she recognized the guy in the hoodie as Rosie’s physics tutor, Eugene. She told herself to scream but she couldn’t make her chest suck in a breath to do it.

  “I’ve been waiting for this for such a long time.”

  As her vision started to tunnel, she saw the sick light in his eyes as he held up Rosie’s phone for her to see.

  Talia woke up with a pounding head and a foul, metallic taste in her mouth. Where was she? Fear sent her heart galloping and she tried to put the foggy events back together.

  Eugene.

  She let out a little cry as she remembered the evil light in his eyes as he’d held Rosie’s phone to taunt her.

  “Talia?” a voice croaked softly.

  “Rosie?” Talia said, turning in the direction of the voice but unable to see anything in the absolute darkness, so dark she thought she must be wearing a blindfold. She lifted her hands to her face and realized they were bound with plastic ties wound tightly around her wrists. She felt her face. No blindfold—the darkness was that profound.

  Rosie started to cry, and the burst of relief was swallowed by blind panic as reality fully set in. She was locked up in a dark, cold room, her hands bound and—she shifted and felt the rough floor against the bare skin of her legs—her pants had been removed.

  It was happening all over again. And this time Rosie was with her.

  Memories of what Nate Brewster had done to her flooded her brain, unimaginable pain and degradation and the certain knowledge of her own death. But at least that time she had taken some peace in knowing that Rosie was safe, that Jack had gotten her away and made sure no one could touch her.

  Rosie’s sobs sounded very far away as Talia felt a swallowing sensation, as though she were sinking into herself. Pushing the real world away, she retreated to a place in her brain where no one would ever find her. It was what she’d done so many times in the past. It was the only way she could get through this.

  No! The same voice that had unfrozen her the other night and urged her to fight, the voice in her head that sounded remarkably like Jack’s, snapped her back to reality. It’s not just you this time. You have to think of Rosie. You have to do whatever you can to get her out of here.

  She pushed herself woozily to her feet and stayed along the wall as she felt her way in the direction of Rosie’s sobs. The concrete was icy cold against her feet, and her teeth started to chatter almost immediately. After a dozen shuffling steps, she felt her toe hit something that felt like a bare leg.

  She sank to the floor and leaned into her sister, sobbing with relief as Rosie slumped against her. “Oh, God, Talia, I’m so scared. I’m so scared.”

  “Shhh,” Talia said. “Tell me what happened.”

  “One second, I was talking to Eugene about my physics midterm, and the next thing I knew, he was shoving me into the trunk of his car. Then I woke up here. I don’t even know how long I’ve been in here.”

  “It’s Sunday night,” Talia said. Or at least she thought it was Sunday night. She had no idea how long she’d been out. “Do you know how long ago he brought me here?” Talia asked. She wondered how long it would take for anyone to notice they were missing.

  “Maybe a couple hours?” Rosie sniffed. “I’m not sure because I might have fallen asleep.”

  So it had probably only been a few hours since she’d been taken. Jack, the only one likely to care if she didn’t pick up the phone, was still in custody. A shiver that had little to do with cold shook her to the core.

  She and Rosie could be raped, tortured, and killed before anyone even noticed they were gone.

  “I think the police were wrong about that Sutherland guy,” Rosie rasped. “I think Eugene is the one who’s been hurting those women. He has all these pictures.” She broke off and Talia felt her tremble against her.

  “Has he… did he…” Talia broke off, not knowing if she could stand it if he’d raped her.

  “He hasn’t raped me…”

  Yet. Though unspoken, Talia knew it was only a matter of time unless they found a way out of here.

  “He comes a few times a day and he… touches me. It’s just like the women described in the news. But it always happens. It’s going to happen.”

  “Shhh, it’s going to be okay—”

  Talia’s pitiful reassurances stuck in her throat as a loud, scraping sound echoed through the room. A split second later, a light switched on, searingly bright. It took Talia several seconds to focus but she knew Eugene was there. Dressed in jeans, a button-down shirt, and Converse All Stars, he looked exactly like the harmless physics PhD candidate he presented himself to be.

  But there was a gleam in his eyes, a sick anticipation on his face that Talia had seen in only one other place.

  On the man who had tried to kill her.

  “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. I was afraid for a minute I might have given you too much Rohypnol.”

  Talia scooted in front of Rosie in a protective crouch. “You can do whatever you want to me, but let Rosie go.”

  He chuckled softly. “Of course I’ll do whatever I want to you. I always do whatever I want.” He gestured to the walls.

  So focused on him, Talia hadn’t noticed the horrific images papering the walls of the chamber. Her stomach churned and she was afraid she was going to throw up, unable to look away from the close-ups of pale, smooth skin carved with deep, bloody gashes.

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” He sauntered around the room as though studying the walls of an art gallery, occasionally reaching out to run his fingers down one, tracing the pattern of the bloody furrows. “But this one, this one is my favorite.”

  She didn’t want to see, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from following his hand as it traced down the close-up of a woman’s back. The picture was different from the rest, grainier and pixilated, but no less shocking.

  “This inspired it all. The clean cuts. The sheer perfection.” He sounded almost wistful. Then he turned to her and pinned her with his flat, reptilian gaze. “Don’t you recognize it?”

  Even as she shook her head, she noticed the familiar, honey-colored tone of the woman’s skin. The dark red slashes standing out in bright relief. The scars on her back began to burn.

  He smiled when he saw the dawning recognition on her face. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

  “Why?” Talia choked out. “Why those other girls if you only wanted me?”

  “Practice,” he
said simply. “Practice makes perfect, right?” He held up his hand, and the glint of the steel blade made the blood roar in her head as her breath came in sharp pants.

  He knelt beside her and raised the knife. She tried to shrink away but couldn’t escape cold metal as it pressed against her cheek. “And when I finally finish what the Seattle Slasher began, I want everything to go perfectly.”

  He withdrew the knife. Talia’s breath slowed a degree, then went back into overdrive as he moved it to rest against Rosie’s neck instead. “But I’ll do the Slasher one better. This time you’ll get to see firsthand exactly what’s going to happen to you when I do it to your sister first.”

  Before she could react, he grabbed her and shoved her down to the floor to lie on her stomach. He straddled her hips and shoved her shirt up her back. “Oh, God, I’ve been waiting so long to touch you.” His hands traced along her scars in a parody of a lover’s touch, making every cell in her body revolt.

  She bucked her hips, trying to get him off, then froze as his fingers were replaced by cold metal. Oh, God, he was tracing the knife along the scars. Scraping the oddly sensitive, raised flesh with the razor-sharp tip. She held her breath, waiting for the first slice.

  Fight! Instinct took over and she bucked and heaved, trying to dislodge him even though she knew escape was unlikely.

  “Stop struggling,” he growled.

  Ignoring him, she pushed up on her bound hands and threw her head back, hoping to catch him in the face.

  He jerked to the side and she felt the hot sting of the knife slicing into the skin stretching across her rib cage. She rolled to a seated position and tried to move her hands to assess the damage.

  Blood welled and dripped down her side, but it didn’t look too deep.

  “You stupid bitch!” The openhanded slap caught her unaware. Pain exploded across her face as her head whipped around and her mouth filled with blood. “Look at what you made me do!” He jerked the shirt out of the way and looked at the slice, shaking his head.