Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) (28 page)

“I just got pulled over. I’ll have to call you back.”

“Speeding to get to lover boy, huh?” Joe let out a derisive laugh, and I knew he was using sarcasm to hide his hurt.

The officer approached the driver’s side, his flashlight bouncing with his steps. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you when I get there.”

I raised my gaze to the window, but the beam blinded me. The window shattered before anything else registered. A scream tore from my throat, and the last thing I remembered was Joe’s frantic voice in my ear as the pain in my head pulled me under.

I awoke in murky stages, the first being a nauseating sense of movement. The second was the realization that something was wrong. Horribly wrong. The third was the clearest and the most horrifying—my wrists were tied together as were my ankles.

A low groan vibrated in my throat as I pulled at the bindings. Despite the persistent throb at my temples, I focused on the misty recollections; the wafting fog on the highway, the beam of a flashlight, and the splintering sound of glass.

I forced my eyes open and met total blackness. My cheek rested against the floor of what I assumed was a van, and a putrid smell burned my nose—an odorous mixture of mildew and bleach. I held my breath as the vehicle bounced over uneven ground, and my ribs hit the floor hard with each lurch.

Where the heck am I?

The floodgates opened, and the memory of flashing lights hit me like a cold fist.

A cop . . . oh my God.

My heart beat out of control as I tried to remember more, but I drew a blank. There was only Joe’s voice in my ear. Or had I imagined that? No. I remembered answering the phone, remembered a blinding light and an explosion of pain in my head . . . then nothing.

“Don’t panic,” I chanted in a whisper as I tested the rope.
Come on!
I slid my wrists back and forth, and the knot loosened the slightest bit as the van came to a violent stop. The engine shut off, and I didn’t dare move or make a peep. A door creaked open and then slammed with an echo. I ceased to breathe as his footfalls drew closer, crunching on gravel with each step. I counted them.

One, two, three, four, five . . .

Keys jingled from the other side, and the handle squeaked and turned. The van dipped under his weight as he entered. I wished I could see him, but I was lying on my stomach, completely vulnerable.

“Where am I?” It wasn’t the question I wanted to ask—the one I could barely think of.

What are you going to do to me?

My body went rigid as he came near. He rolled me to my back with rough hands, and his silhouette loomed large, a dark shadow blocking the light of the waning moon. He shifted, causing the moon’s beam to glint off the cigarette lighter in his hand.

“No . . .” My plea came out a squeak, an ineffectual cry for mercy. I was only an object to him, something to torture and kill for his perverse pleasure.

I squeezed my eyes shut and yanked at the rope, ignoring the pain biting into my wrists. Hysteria wouldn’t help my situation, so I held it in. In fact, from what I knew of the Hangman, my cries and pleas would only heighten his pleasure . . . his arousal. Vomit burned in my throat, accompanying the rancid taste of fear, but I forced my eyes open anyway.

He sparked the lighter to life, and the flame illuminated his face. His eyes peered at me, two expressionless voids holding no remorse for what he’d done to all of those other women.

For what he was about to do to me.

His expression was so empty—distorted into something unrecognizable—that it took me a few seconds to realize who towered over me. I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.

Judd McFayden.

“Why?” My voice broke on the question, but he didn’t answer. A tear slid down my cheek as acceptance nicked at my composure. I wasn’t getting out of this. Aidan would find my body—just like we’d found Six. Just like he’d found his wife. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. Judd would dangle my death in front of him like a trophy. A muffled sob escaped.
Not
panicking was impossible.

For all the times I’d witnessed the murders of other women in my dreams, I’d failed to see my own.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said, coming closer and letting the flame of his lighter lick my cheek. I shrank away with a whimper. “I’m gonna untie your feet and you’re gonna get out. And don’t even think about testing me.” He exited the van and released my ankles. “Get out slowly.”

Slow was the only speed I could go with my hands tied behind my back. My legs shook as I touched ground, and they buckled. Sharp rocks bit into my knees.

No. Don’t give up. Fight, dammit!

He wrenched me up by the hair, and I struck without thinking, digging my knee into his groin with as much force as I could manage. He let go, and as he spat a litany of obscenities, I ran for the trees, kicking up dust and rock in my wake. I heard him coming after me, his heavy steps pounding the earth. Thick fog blanketed the trees, and I prayed it would be enough to cover me. I tripped over a rock and tumbled to the ground.

“There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart!” he shouted.

Oh God . . . get up! Go, go, go!

No matter how fast I ran, it wasn’t fast enough. I struggled against the rope, trying to free my hands as I stumbled over rocks and tree roots. Hot tears blinded me, but I kept going, ignoring the twigs and branches that scratched my face.

The shoreline of the lake came into view. I skidded to a stop against a tree, unwilling to leave the cover of fog, and sucked in lungfuls of air. His footsteps were gone.

Don’t panic. Think! Need to find help.

I pulled at the rope again, but after several minutes of trying to get free without success, I went limp against the tree. That was when a small structure in the distance, maybe a quarter mile down the lake, beckoned me with a single porch light leading the way. I blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t seeing an apparition. Pushing away from the tree, I took off for it. Leaves crunched behind me, and I whirled, hoping to find glowing eyes, a burly bear; heck, I’d settle for a mountain lion at this point. Anything but him. A raccoon skittered from the brush and raced behind a tree.

I sucked in a breath . . . then had the air knocked from me as I hit the ground hard. Dirt entered my mouth as I fought against the hands grabbing me. I spit it out and screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping to get the attention of the occupants in that house. So close, but so far away.

He dug a knee into my spine, yanked my head back, and slipped a loop of thick rope around my neck. I retched into the dirt and in that moment the only person I thought of was Aidan. My despair gushed down my cheeks in salty tracks. I tasted them on my tongue as Aidan’s face flashed behind tightly-closed lids.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, his tone oddly normal, “much too long to let you get away.” He didn’t talk like a villain in a movie; there was no sinister undertone. He sounded no less menacing than the guy who bagged my groceries. “Just wasn’t counting on all the complications.”

“Why are you doing this?” Instinct took over, and I rolled and kicked, but all I managed to do was attack air.

He laughed. “I do enjoy the feisty ones.” He grabbed the rope and pulled, and I gagged as he hauled me along the water’s edge. He stopped long enough to push me into the lake with a muddy boot. I surfaced, sputtering water as I coughed.

“Get up,” he ordered. Before I could so much as move, he tugged me up by the other end of the noose. I swayed and blinked away the stars in my vision. “You can walk, or I can drag you the rest of the way. Makes no difference to me.” His expression contradicted his words. He relished the thought of a fight.

“I’ll walk,” I bit out through chattering teeth. He turned and yanked on the rope, and I stumbled behind him on shaky legs.

This is it.

The closer we got to the van, the closer I faced my death. I stalled when we reached the clearing. He tugged on the rope and propelled me across the gravel driveway, and I realized how isolated the location was. Trees cordoned off the area from the outside world, and through the thicket, I spotted a sliver of the glimmering lake.

We approached a small cabin, and I panicked all over again. Not only did I recognize it from my dreams, but I knew with certainty that I’d never get out of there alive. I’d rather he strangle me now. He stopped to open the door, and I struck with my feet—the only means of self-defense he’d left me.

My effort was ineffectual. His fist connected with my cheek bone. “You stupid bitches never learn.” He forced me inside, kicking and screaming the whole way, and the rope became a vise around my throat. I struggled for air as bright light flooded the cabin. I recognized the rustic architecture from my dreams—dreams that were worthless in hindsight. They hadn’t saved Six, and they weren’t going to save me now.

He dragged me to a bedroom where I fell to my knees. “Get your ass on the bed.”

“No,” I choked out. I’d fight him with everything I had.

He jerked me up and pushed me to the mattress. I screamed again, squirming and kicking until something sparked and buzzed from the corner of my eye. Intense pain pulsed through every nerve in my body, and I howled in agony, louder than I thought possible until I couldn’t even do that anymore. Muscle spasms rendered me incapable of moving, of fighting him. He prodded me with the Taser again and again, and I was left disoriented and tied to the bed, spread-eagle and facedown after the last shock lanced through me.

He sodomized Six.

It was my only thought. I spewed bile onto the itchy blanket against my cheek as the bed dipped under his weight.

“Don’t hurt me, Judd.” My voice sounded odd, as if a small child was the one doing the begging. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried into my vomit. Fabric ripped through the air, echoing in my ears. I bit into my lip and drew blood as he tore the last article of clothing from me.

“I’m going to do more than hurt you, sweetheart. Foreplay first.” He brushed latex-covered fingers down my spine.

My head spun with dizziness, and like the time I’d seen Aidan’s past, I now floated above a room I didn’t recognize, staring down at people I’d never seen.

Except . . . the little boy, maybe eight or nine years old, looked familiar. He cowered at the feet of a balding man. Risking a glance up, his eyes pooled with tears. I recognized him as a younger version of Judd.

“I’m sorry. I tried not to be bad.”

I gasped when the man backhanded him.

Rather than cry, the boy glared at him. “My daddy will kill you!”

“You’re daddy isn’t around, is he? Even he didn’t want you.” The man clenched his hands. “Who would want a sinful, nasty little boy?”

In a display of courage, the boy stood and hardened his gaze. “He’ll come back for me.”

The man laughed. “Stupid kid. Your old man isn’t coming back, and your mom can’t help you either. Now repent for your sins.” He unbuttoned the front of his jeans, and I sobbed upon witnessing what happened next. The boy begged for his mother, and when she failed to come, he began to pray. I couldn’t stomach it. I crashed back into the present as Judd sparked a lighter to life.

“I’m sorry he did that to you.”

I felt him go still. “What are you talking about?”

“You were just a boy.” My voice cracked, and even though he had me bound and was about to kill me, a part of me hurt for the younger version of him . . . the little boy who had no one to rescue him. “I saw what happened to you as a child.”

The flame went out. “You what?”

“Just now. I saw what he did.”

“You didn’t see shit!” He tossed the lighter aside, and it hit the wall before dropping to the floor. “You’re just trying to stall, hoping to buy time so your knight in shining armor will rush in.” He laughed. “I’ve got news for you. He’s not coming. I made sure of that.”

My body went numb. “What did you do to Aidan?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. By the time they find him, this pretty little head of yours will be hanging.” He yanked my head back by the hair.

I sobbed, overwhelmed with grief at the thought of him hurting Aidan. “Why are you doing this? What do you have against him?” The rope tightened around my throat. “Please—”

“What’s that? Sounds like you’re beggin’ for something.”

I shook my head and ignored the blinking lights in my vision. “Just . . . wanna . . . talk.”

“No pillow talk tonight, baby. I’m gonna fuck you like a real man.”

He shifted, and I heard the sound of a belt unbuckling . . . a zipper lowering. I coughed and fought for breath. The room spun, and I focused on the bright light coming through the window.

Judd cursed and tightened the noose. I thrashed, my lungs burning for air as the weight of his body disappeared. A crash came from the other room, followed by another.

“Where is she?” someone screamed. It sounded like Aidan, but that was impossible. I had to be hallucinating. More voices . . . the sound of breaking glass . . . then the promise of nothingness as the shadows infiltrated further, smothering the last speck of light. Finally, as my heart thumped to a slow drumbeat, I welcomed the darkness calling.

I was weightless, like an untethered kite soaring through the sky. I drifted upward, bounced on a cottony cloud, and dipped down to sit on it. An onyx void existed below, incongruent with the luminescence above. I was either having the most bizarre dream of my life—and that was saying a lot—or I was dead. The idea ricocheted through my mind, propelling me into motion. Avoiding the glaring brightness seemed of utter importance. I reached for the darkness and forged through the pain that rippled through me.

Pain was good. Pain meant I could still feel. I became more aware of it the further I descended, and I wanted to scream, except I couldn’t get a sound past the crushing weight around my throat. My heartbeat pulsed in my ears, slowing with each passing second, and my will to cling to the darkness waned. I floated upward again, distancing myself from the agony even as cold fingers pried the vise from around my neck. An anguished voice called out, “Breathe!” It was Aidan. I’d know his voice anywhere.