Chapter 52
I hit the steps below face-first. A white light flashes before my eyes as the pain shoots through me. I skid downward, hitting more steps until I slide onto the floor. I feel confused, unable to focus, or even lift my head. Frank is on the steps, hurrying down toward me. I can hear his bare feet tapping on the wood. I tell myself to act, to get up now, but nothing happens. I feel his hands on me, on my hair, and then him pulling me across the floor, dragging me into the living room. He drops me down on the floor and stands above me, hovering, his legs on each side of me. I try to focus, to lift my head, but everything is a blur, a haze. I am kicking my legs, hoping to hit him, but he doesn’t move. He bends down, then grabs my shirt and pulls me up. Then, he slaps me. I feel the burning sensation across my cheek, but I can’t open my eyes properly. He slaps me again, forcefully, and I feel like I am about to pass out.
Frank then tries to land a punch in my stomach. Realizing this, I know there is no time to waste. I clench my fist and swing it at him, hitting him directly on the nose. Startled at this, Frank stumbles back, holding his bloody nose. It’s a lucky punch, I guess, but just enough for me to get to my feet and swing at him again. Frank is pushed back toward the fireplace, stumbling and leaning on the wall of rocks behind him. While he is gathering himself, I land two quick punches on his jaw.
“You coward,” I roar with satisfaction. I am panting in agitation. I anxiously feel my stomach with my hand. It doesn’t feel wrong in any way and I am not bleeding. There is no pain to indicate something is off. But it’s too early to tell. That fall from the stairs was hard. At this point, I can only pray the baby is all right.
“You sick coward!”
Panting, he glares up at me. Blood is running from his nose, spilling onto his white shirt he has put on so quickly that he hasn’t even noticed it is turned inside out. I take another swing at him, but I have underestimated him. He grabs my arm mid-air and pushes me back. I fly backward and land on the floor, sliding across it. Then, he is on top of me fast. His weight holds me down, and with a hand on my throat, he has me pinned to the floor. I can’t move.
“Squeal all you want to,” he says, speaking close to my ear. “Scream if you can. It won’t matter. No one is coming for you.”
He is staring down at me, his eyes steady, unafraid. He knows he has won. He has me down, and there is no way I can escape. I look into his eyes and wonder if the baby has the same eyes—the eyes that have been the last that so many people have seen before they died. His hand tightens around my throat, and I can’t breathe. I am gasping for air, trying to kick, but not hitting anything. I try to jab an elbow into his stomach, but with no success. I am panicking and can’t think straight. The pain on my throat becomes deeper; the fear enveloping me completely. I stare into his eyes as he strangles me, his face strained in effort. He is yelling and growling, his eyes popping out, and his teeth clenched. He is fighting so hard to kill me that he doesn’t even hear the quick footsteps on the wooden porch outside.
I see him in the window first, and immediately, the panic is substituted with hope rising in my chest. Seeing the change in my eyes, Frank follows my gaze over his shoulder and takes in the sight of Ryan as he bursts through the door, breaking it open with his shoulder. He storms inside, a gun gripped between both hands.
“Time to end this, you bastard,” he says.
Frank loosens his grip on my throat, and I gasp for air.
Ryan fires the gun and shoots Frank in the back. Frank collapses, falling on top of me. Frantically, I push him off, and he slides onto the floor. Frank is writhing in pain, trying to get up, making it to his knees. Ryan walks to him, places the gun on his head, and fires again. I scream and hold my hands over my head as Frank’s body slumps to the floor, rag-doll limp.
Ryan runs to me. He kneels next to me.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
There is panic in his voice as it is rising. I am still fighting to breathe, gasping and coughing, finally able to let the soothing air slide freely into my lungs. Ryan holds me by the shoulders, his eyes looking at me desperately.
“Laurie, are you okay?”
I manage to nod, and I sit up straight while I slowly get my focus back. I look at Ryan. He looks terrible. He is panting and agitated still, while the air of determination he had carried on his face when entering the cabin slowly subsides. His eyes become calm and affectionate when he looks at me, and he reaches up to caress my bruised cheek. Suddenly, he’s exactly the man I remember, the one I cared for so deeply once.
Seeing this, I burst into tears, and he pulls me into a deep hug.
“It’s okay, Laurie. It’s gonna be okay. Don’t you worry; it’s all over now, it’s over,” he whispers.
And for some reason, I believe him.
Chapter 53
He tells me to go lay down upstairs. He’ll take care of everything. He’ll call the police, but it’ll be a while before they get here. At least an hour in this bad weather.
“You might as well rest, Laurie. You need it.”
I am in complete shock and unable to think. I do as he tells me to and crawl under the covers, barely able to pull them up with my trembling hands. My heart is pounding so hard, and when I close my eyes, I can still see Frank’s piercing eyes as he tries to kill me. I start to cry, sobbing heavily, crawling into a fetal position, hugging my knees. There is so much I still don’t understand. I have never felt such anxiety deep within my chest, but I still try to close my eyes and rest. Right now, it’s the only thing I can do. I think I manage to doze off because when I open my eyes again, it’s dark outside. I gasp, feeling even more confused than earlier.
Why am I still asleep? Why didn’t Ryan wake me?
I scramble to my feet, feeling dizzy as I get up. I lean on the dresser for a few seconds when I hear footsteps outside and turn to look out the window. I glance down and see Ryan come walking up in the rain and walk into the light from the porch outside. He is wearing a raincoat and boots that are covered in mud. He is whistling. I don’t see any police cars, no ambulance, no blinking lights, or anyone in a uniform.
Just Ryan.
What is going on here?
I turn around and feel the room is spinning, then hurry to the stairs. I walk down just as Ryan comes inside. He takes the coat and boots off and leaves it all by the door. He smiles when he sees me.
“Hey, you’re awake? Are you feeling better?”
I swallow; there’s a growing sense of urgency in my throat. I try to remain calm. “Ryan? Where are the police?”
I turn to look at where Frank was shot.
“And where is the body?”
Ryan takes a deep breath. “Now, before you get mad…”
“What did you do, Ryan? What did you do?” I almost yell.
He steps toward me. He grabs my hands in his and smiles. “Calm down, okay? Let me explain.”
“What did you do with Frank’s body, Ryan?” I ask, almost out of breath.
This can’t be happening; this can’t be real.
“Ryan?”
“Let’s sit down, okay?” he says and gestures toward the couch behind us. I do as he says and sit. He’s still holding my hands in his like he’s afraid I’ll run away.