“You’re next,” she whispered.
The statement was so blunt, and yet it stabbed me like a scalpel. Her eyes swung from me to Flick, agony contained in their misty depths as she stared at Felicity. I wasn’t sure if she meant me, or Flick, or both of us. Looking at her bruised neck and torn dress, recalling my nightmare and how she died, my breath hitched in my chest. I was under siege from both sides, not knowing where to centre my attention.
“The house is the office of Lindstrom and Associates …” Flick’s voice broke the moment, and the woman drifted back into the ether. “… but it’s also the base for an exclusive, secret club. There’s a hidden door in the back of the butler’s pantry that takes you down a staircase, and another entrance from the building next door through an underground tunnel. They’re not aware that I knew about that one, but I followed my father one day. I think he owns that building.”
“Your father?”
Her throat moved as she swallowed, closing her eyes. “Yeah. He was there that day you saw me.”
“Does he have trouble with his legs?”
“Yes. You remember.” Her hands continued their action loop. “I see you there. In the basement.”
What did she mean, she sees me there?
“I’ve struggled to tell you about this, because I couldn’t be sure if having this information is what sends you there. But, I decided that you had to know … so you can be prepared, if ever … But, Ronnie …” She dragged her eyes away from her hands and fixed them on mine. “… stay away. He will torture and kill you.” She rose to her feet and merged with the crowd, out of sight.
The warning echoed in the chasm of my brain. Everything else emptied, but for those few words. He will torture and kill you. Everybody seemed to speed up, buzzing about their day while I remained frozen in horror. Images flicked through my mind, Lindstrom’s face, Felicity’s, Brad’s, Tish’s, Ruby’s, and my granny’s—so much like my own. Each image deteriorated as it passed, until their flesh looked like it dripped from their skulls. But not Lindstrom’s. His expression morphed from a smile to a sneer, before it turned red and twisted with malevolence.
“Veronica.” A warm hand broke through the ice to rest on my knee, shaking gently. As my vision returned, I saw Brad’s frightened face, his eyes wide, mouth turned down at the corners. “Hey, you’ve gotta stop tripping off on me. I don’t like it when you go somewhere I can’t follow.”
Oh, Jesus. Like his sister did? And his parents, and now possibly me too. Fuck. I was so worried about him hurting me, but he was the one who was going to be hurt. Again. Because of me. I didn’t know what to do anymore.
For the second time in as many days, I let the tears pour out. All of my grief, my despair, my utter shock and panic—it all forced its way out of my tear ducts, and I let it. Everything seemed inevitable. For once, I didn’t want to run. I wanted to burrow into him.
The bench bounced when Brad dove onto the seat beside me. He scooped me onto his lap and enveloped me in his strong frame. His smell engulfed me as I turned my face into his shoulder, where I continued to pour out my dismay for who knew how long. This man, as strong and steady as the buildings he’ll design, cared for me. He calmed the storms that raged inside me, patiently waiting until they subsided.
He patted my knee. “Can I take you home? You shouldn’t be here. I don’t really give a shit if anyone will miss you. I’m not leaving you here like this.”
Oh, God. I was so relieved that he was here, taking control.
Rising to his feet, he kept one arm around my middle, as he helped me stand on shaky legs. My thoughts were distracted throughout the trip home. Finally, I was safe in bed, tucked up, with Ruby lying on the floor watching over me. Brad hadn’t even asked why I flipped out. Had I done it so many times he had accepted it as part of who I was? Bloody hell. I was a mess. How could he love me? And he didn’t even know the worst of it.
My eyelids drooped from exhaustion. I emptied my mind and focused on the soothing rhythm of Ruby’s breathing. Somehow, it helped block out the demonic face in my future. I tumbled into sleep.
Brad
“Shit.”
Hissing the four-letter word at the drop sheet as it caught the foot of the ladder didn’t make me feel any better. I’d rather throw the ladder out the window, but that wouldn’t help anyone, least of all my sleeping Gazelle across the hall. I didn’t know what to do for her, but she looked wrung out. So, I figured the bed was the only way to go. I paced the house, unable to work on my design project, unable to eat. Definitely too twitchy to lie quietly beside her. Ruby was the obvious choice for that job. I may have saved the dog’s life, but she was saving ours, right back.
I vented my frustration and worry on the walls, trying to paint as quietly as I could so as not to wake my Gazelle. My hand ached, the muscles in my forearms strained as I controlled each stroke. If I lost my restraint, I’d be likely to snap the damn roller.
Veronica picked a lemon-yellow colour for this room. It amazed me how she was so instinctive. Yellow was a favourite colour I shared with her. She’d badgered
