Final Breath

'I wanted you to see those photos, Sydney,' Aidan said. 'I wanted you to see the extent of my mother's abuse.' He stood between her and the doorway, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wore a white button- down shirt, untucked. His stance wasn't threatening, and yet Sydney knew he wouldn't let her leave.

Aidan had been manipulating her all this time. He'd played her perfectly. And just in case she still hadn't realized how he'd trapped her, he'd left her one final clue--the Monopoly game. Every time there was a slight breeze, more loose bills drifted across the carpeted floor.

Aidan's eyes stayed riveted on her. 'I supported my mother--and her various scumbag boyfriends--with my modeling,' he explained. 'But I was still their punching bag. My mother said I deserved what I got, because I was a smart ass.' He chuckled cynically. 'She blamed me for the fact that she could never keep a man.'

He nodded toward the coffee table. 'One of the modeling people discovered what was being done to me, and she took those Polaroids for child protective services. They couldn't make the charges stick against Rikki and her current flame at the time, but it sure as shit ended my legitimate modeling career. Oh, I still got some assignments from time to time, but it was never the same.

'Then there was the fire, and that finished my modeling days for good. But you have to hand it to Rikki. She still used me to raise money--parading around her broken, scarred, burn-victim poster child. And you helped her. I was a cash cow for my worthless mother--and for you, too, Sydney. It's because of me you went into the hero business.'

'I was trying to help you, Aidan,' she murmured.

'Well, you didn't,' he said evenly. 'My life just got shittier. After the fire, I was still getting the crap kicked out of me by Rikki and her boyfriends, only it was worse. I was in constant pain from my back injury. And my dear, sweet mother was taking--or selling--all my pain medications.'

Sydney was devastated by these revelations. She felt so sorry for him, but that didn't make her any less afraid and revolted. 'I haven't talked with your mother in years, have I?' she asked. 'It was you who called me this weekend, wasn't it?'

'Oh, yes, Sydney,' Aidan said--in his mother's weak, whiny voice. He smiled a little.

Sydney remembered finding Rikki Cosgrove rotting away in her deathbed. The dying woman could barely talk. And yet, an hour before she'd been strong enough to call and ask her to come over. Why hadn't she realized it then?

'That story I told you about the woman in San Francisco is true,' Aidan said, stepping closer to her--backing her toward the window. 'Thanks to this rich bitch, I used to fly up here and look after my mother on weekends. Once she became immobile and helpless, I stayed on full time. I did a good enough job imitating my mother on the phone and through the door so no one knew how ill she really was. And I let her rot. I starved her. She was in a lot of pain, but I didn't give her any medication. I pretended to come and go on weekends, but for the last few weeks I've been here the whole time, watching her die--and thinking of you, Sydney.'

'But why go after me--and all these people who never did you any harm at all?' Sydney asked. 'For God's sake, I saved your life, Aidan.'

'I didn't want to be saved, Sydney,' he growled. 'I wanted to die. I started the fire that day--on purpose. I was going to kill my mother. I planned to watch her burn, and then I was going to jump out the window--to my own death. But you had to play the hero. So what happened? I was left scarred, and in constant pain. And my mother just kept making money off me and letting her boyfriends slap me around. It was worse than being dead, Sydney. I would have been better off if you hadn't interfered. You're responsible for all those years I suffered after the fire. But you made out all right, didn't you? Hell, you made more money off me than my mother did.'

Stunned, Sydney kept staring at him. She had tears in her eyes. She remembered calling to young Aidan as he'd stood out on the ledge of that burning building. She'd asked if anyone else was in the apartment with him, and the frightened child had shaken his head. And at that press conference--her first time meeting and talking with him--that burnt, broken little boy had whispered to her: 'I really, really tried not to land on you. I didn't expect you to catch me.'

Part of her wanted to reach out to him--and reason with him. But she didn't dare. She stole a glance out the window, hoping to see Joe down there. But there was no sign of him. She looked at Aidan again. 'Please, Aidan, there's already been too much killing and suffering. I know you've had a raw deal, but that's no reason...' She could see he wasn't listening. He was looking past her--at the window.

Sydney quickly glanced over her shoulder; still no sign of Joe.

'Listen to me,' she said. 'If you turn yourself in and tell your story to the police, they'll probably be more lenient with you, maybe even get you some help....'

'Did you call Joe?' he asked. 'Is that why you keep looking out the window? Are you waiting for him to show up?'

Sydney sighed. She locked eyes with him and nodded. 'Yes. And he'll probably have the police with him--'

'No, not your Joe. He'll come alone, because he needs to play the hero.' Aidan reached back and pulled a gun out from under his shirttail. 'I'm afraid Joe won't be able to save you, Sydney. But I am giving you a chance to be a hero today...'

Backing up, Aidan kept the gun trained on her as he took a can of charcoal-starter out of the front closet. He handed the can to her. 'Squirt some of this on the carpet and around the bedroom doorway,' he said.

Sydney didn't move. She realized what he'd planned for her. She'd saved him from burning to death; so now she would die in a fire.

'Do it,' he growled, eyes narrowed at her. 'Or do I have to? You know, I might just spray you with this stuff, Sydney. Strike a match, and do you know how fast you'd be engulfed in flames? Would you like that?'

She reluctantly complied and squeezed the tin can. A braided line of charcoal starter shot from the spout, soaking the ugly beige carpet and dripping down the doorway frame to Rikki's bedroom.

'Squirt some over there,' Aidan said, pointing to the bedroom's carpeted floor. He led her into the bedroom. 'And get the mattress, too. You know, I've always been fascinated with fire. Kind of funny, coming from a burn victim, isn't it? But I think that just made me respect fire even more. Hit the wall around the bathroom door. That's it, get it real good...'

The sharp smell of charcoal starter began to overwhelm her. But Sydney followed his orders, and prayed Joe might get here on time--with backup. With her free hand, she furtively felt the outline of the pepper-spray canister in her pocket.

Keeping the gun at her head, Aidan opened the bathroom door and switched on the light.

Sydney gasped.

Lying unconscious in the tub was a half-naked young brunette. Her lip was bleeding, and her hands and feet had been bound with a black cord. Around her in the tub were wads of rolled-up newspaper. 'Sydney, meet Jill,' Aidan said. 'She works at the flower shop. She's a very sweet girl, twenty-two years old. She wants to be a teacher, because she's crazy for kids. We had a date this morning, and she told me all about herself. Squirt some of that stuff on Jill, and make sure you soak the paper around her.'

'No,' Sydney said. 'That's enough, Aidan. It's over...'

'Don't pull that strong-lady shit on me,' he hissed, directing the gun at Jill. 'Do what I tell you or I swear to God, I'll shoot her right now.'

Tears in her eyes, Sydney swallowed hard and finally obeyed him. Her hand shook horribly as she squirted the flammable liquid around the helpless young woman. She kept trying to think of a way to distract him so she could reach for her pepper spray.

'Jill and I are offering you the opportunity to be a hero again, Sydney,' he said. 'You don't have a very good chance of getting out of here alive once I start the fire. Your leg is a bit of a hindrance, too. And if you do live, no doubt you'll get burned--badly. There will be scars and pain. Maybe you'll finally have an idea of what I endured for years and years. But I know you, Sydney. You'll want to rescue Jill, which will delay your escape, and then--well, if the two of you don't die in this fire, you'll both wish you had.'

Horrified, Sydney glanced at the unconscious woman in the tub. Aidan was right, because all she could think about was rescuing her. Maybe if she turned on the shower and doused the young woman with water, she could get her through the blaze with only a few minor burns.