“He’s looking after himself,” Victor surmised. “This is the point where you have to do the same thing. You have to watch your own ass.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready to talk to me? To really tell me all you know about Quincy Atkins and Ethan Barclay?”
Hell, no, she wasn’t. Her temples were pounding, and she was worried about Ethan. “How did Keith get in my apartment?” She wanted to shrug off his hand, but forced herself to stay still. He thinks he’s helping me. He was wrong, though. The one who could help her?
Ethan.
But he’s vanished.
No, it just wasn’t right. Ethan wouldn’t leave her.
Victor and Charles exchanged a long look.
“The guy doesn’t remember,” Victor said.
“The door was locked.” She remembered unlocking it. “He was at least ten feet from that door.”
“Uh, about Ethan…”
“I didn’t search the apartment,” she whispered as fear grew within her. “I didn’t even stop to think that Keith’s attacker could still be there! What if he was waiting for me to leave? What if he did something to Ethan?”
Charles looked doubtful. “It’s not easy to get the drop on Ethan Barclay.”
“And what would the attacker even do with his body?” Victor’s hand fell from her shoulder. “Sorry, look, I get that you’re trying to explain away his abandonment, but the guy vanished on his own free will. He wasn’t dragged off. He’s six foot two and close to two hundred pounds. It wouldn’t be easy to drag him any place.”
Her heart was racing fast. Too fast. Fear had a choking grasp on her. “It depends on where you’re dragging him.” Then she turned away from the FBI agents. She started walking down the hospital corridor. Then she started running.
They called after her. She didn’t stop.
Something had happened to Ethan. He hadn’t abandoned her. She wouldn’t believe that.
She’d always trusted him. She wouldn’t lose faith in him now.
***
He was tied up. Bound to a chair. The ropes cut into his arms and legs. Ethan slowly opened his eyes. His head hurt like a bitch, throbbing constantly—because some SOB had hit him over the head. He’d been trying to help that freaking shrink, and he’d heard the creak of the floor too late.
By the time Ethan had tried to turn, it had been too late.
Now he was in darkness. Total freaking darkness. But he could feel the ropes and as he flexed his hands, testing those bounds, Ethan also heard…
Someone else breathing.
“Did you think I’d let you walk away?” That voice was low. Taunting.
The lights flashed on. Too bright, blinding Ethan for an instant. He blinked frantically, and then he found himself staring at a familiar face.
A face he’d pounded before.
And Carly said I shouldn’t have attacked the SOB.
He yanked on the ropes.
“I know how it ended, you see. I knew all along, but I wanted a confession. I was sent a video—a video of you and Carly Shay killing my brother.”
Fuck. He’d thought he destroyed that evidence.
“What? No cry of surprise? Did you know that you’d been caught on the security feed at that warehouse so long ago?”
He’d known. Too late.
“Carly was the one tied in the chair, wasn’t she? You were on the floor. Bleeding. Dying. Carly screamed and begged. She promised Quincy anything if he would let you live…”
He jerked in the chair. It rocked forward, then backward on its legs.
“And then I learned that she was still hung up on you. After all these years, still involved with you. That’s when I knew the way to hurt her. Really gut her. ”
Fucking bastard.
“When you two ran out of Reflections together, after I saw—first-hand—just what it was like between you, I knew exactly how to punish dear Carly.”
“Your bomb didn’t fucking work! We got out!”
Curtis laughed. “I wanted you out. The bomb was meant to scare. To be a distraction, nothing more. The fact that your business burned to the ground? That was pure bonus.” His laughter faded. “But I saw the way you two were together, and I knew just what I had to do.”
“What you had to do?” Ethan muttered. “Was it talk me to death?’
“The way to really break her…” Curtis smiled at Ethan. “The way to break her…is by breaking you.”
Ethan just stared back at the bastard. “I’m not easy to break. Kind of a been there, done that with me. But, hey, you’re obviously feeling all bat-shit crazy, so give it your best shot.”
The guy’s smile dimmed.
Ethan glanced around as he tried to assess his escape option. There wasn’t a whole lot of furniture in the room. Just the chair he was tied to and some kind of instrument tray to the side. He could see the gleam of metal over there. A scalpel. And some other rather twisted looking utensils.
Plastic had been taped down on the floor around him. And more plastic covered the walls. Ethan whistled. “Did your big brother teach you how to set up a kill scene like this one?” The better to avoid the problem of blood spatter once the victims started that pesky bleeding and dying.
“I taught him,” Curtis barked. “Quincy was an idiot. I was—”
“The brains.” Like he hadn’t heard others claim similar over the years. “Whatever, I don’t—”
Curtis yanked a scalpel from that exam tray. He leaned close to Ethan. “I made those girls vanish.”
Ethan frowned at him. “Girls?”
“Quincy fucked them, but then he gave them to me. I got to cut them open. I got to see all of them.”
He was seeing a seriously deranged fuck. “And you made it as a doctor?” A trauma surgeon. A guy who sliced for his living had also cut for his pleasure.
“Why do you think I became a doctor?” Curtis had that sick grin back in place. “I do enjoy my work.”
Ethan was still tugging at the ropes. He’d get out, sooner or later. He was just hoping for sooner. Before Curtis fucked him up too much. He already had enough scars without adding more to his body.
“But everything changed when Quincy vanished. I always suspected you were involved. And now, it’s judgment day. You die, you pay. And poor little Carly will get the news that you’ve vanished completely.” Curtis laughed again, the sound high and bitter. “Do you think she’ll believe you just deserted her? Probably, at first. But later, when I’m ready for her to really suffer…maybe I’ll send her a few pieces of you that I keep.”
“And people think I’m the psycho,” Ethan said, whistling.
“He was my brother!”
“Like I give a shit. He was a twisted, murdering prick, and he got exactly what he deserved.” Ethan wasn’t about to show fear. He didn’t feel any. He did feel pissed. “And you’re going to get what you deserve, too.” His voice was low, lethal. Promising. “Unless you kill me outright, I’ll get free. I’ll take that scalpel that you’re holding in your hand, and I’ll use it to cut your throat. You’ll be bleeding and choking and I’ll just watch you die.”
Curtis had frozen. “You think you can manipulate me,” he finally murmured. “You’re trying to make me kill you quickly so that you won’t suffer, but it won’t work that way. You will suffer. You will beg. And there will be no mercy.”
Ethan couldn’t shrug because of the way he was tied to the chair. “Keep thinking that, if you want. The truth is, I just told you what’s going to happen in this room.”
Curtis hesitated. For an instant, fear flashed on his face. The guy was used to giving out pain, but he didn’t seem to like the idea of being on the receiving end of that scalpel.
“The bomb you set,” Ethan said. “It could have killed Carly.” The guy said he’d meant for them to get out—Ethan didn’t know if he believed that bull. He thought Curtis would’ve been plenty happy if they’d been blown to hell. “Here’s the thing…” Ethan lowered his voice.
&n
bsp; Curtis stepped forward.
That’s right, bastard, come closer.
“You aren’t the first SOB to tie me up and try to torture me. My own brother did that shit to me.”
Fascination. That was what he saw in Curtis’s eyes. The man crept forward a little more. The scalpel lowered in his hand.
“I heard a story about that…” Curtis’s gaze darted to the scars on Ethan’s cheeks. “But he didn’t cut you deep enough.”
“Not on my face, he didn’t,” Ethan agreed. “But I’ve got more scars. Deep wounds.”
Curtis came forward more. So close now…
Too close…
“Show me,” Curtis said. His eyes were eager.
I’ll fucking show you plenty.
Ethan slammed his head into Curtis’s face and heard the crunch of cartilage as the man’s nose broke. Curtis screamed and fell back as blood gushed down his face.
***
“The crime scene team is still here!” Charles said as he followed right behind Carly. They were back at the brownstone, and, yes, the guy was right. Crime techs were in her place. So was a nice, big yellow line of police tape, barring her door. “Ethan is not in there!” Charles told her.
No, not in my home but—
She stopped in the hallway. “Did you hear that?” Slowly, she turned away from her door. In that one instant, she’d heard…
Charles eyed her as if she were mentally unstable.
“I heard someone scream,” Carly said definitely. She was sure of it. Carly pointed to the door right across the hall from her place. “My neighbor Katherine is in Europe for the next month. Ethan owns this building, so that means he owns her space.”
“Uh, yeah, what does that have to do with—”
“No one should be in there right now.” She rushed to that apartment and twisted the doorknob. It was locked so she started pounding on the door.
Charles grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “What are you doing?”
“I heard a scream come from that apartment.” Now there was only silence.
Charles shook his head. “No, you didn’t, you—”
“Carly!”
That voice—that roar. It was Ethan’s voice. And Charles had just stiffened. He’d heard the sound, too. The roar had come from inside the apartment that should have been empty. She grabbed for the door knob again. Twisted it frantically and started pounding on the locked door. “Ethan, Ethan! I’m here! I’m coming to help you!” Behind her, she could hear Charles talking on his phone, asking for help at the scene. “Ethan!” She started kicking that damn door. She was getting in to him—one way or another.
***