The motor... A big wave slapped the boat’s bow up then down.
The air rang with a high pitched background whine that terminated in a need.
> He’d given me some hidden command.
I froze, clutching the sides of the boat with claw-hands.
I knew what was wanted. At the bow was a compartment. The moon couldn’t reach there and it lay in shadow.
Water sloshed under my feet as I moved forward, dreading, ice and heat flushing my veins. He’d put something there, and I had to see what it was.
Had to. I shouldn’t. Eyes wide, heart thumping...I reached.
I flicked open the catch, opened the little compartment door. There sat a device. Sealed in a plastic bag to protect it.
He’d left it for me.
He knew I would be here. My hand shook but I picked it up. Weighty.
It fitted into my palm and I pressed the arrow-shaped play button.
What did I tell you? Follow my rules. Don’t try to thwart me or there will be suffering. Immense suffering. You’ve been bad, Red. Come back to me and I will show you how bad.
“Then I shouldn’t come back,” I whispered, as if he were here beside me.
Come back.
I jumped. Fuck. Tears sprang. I dropped the device into my lap, and it almost slid into the water at the bottom of the boat, except I caught it, saved it. If it fell, he’d be gone. No voice. My fingers wouldn’t let go. Whimpering, I pressed it hard to my forehead.
A recording but he knew me well.
Now, Red.
Mouth trembling, face twitching with muscle tics, I coughed. I swiped my face with my forearm, then pulled up my shirt and wiped off the sweat and spray and tears, again. Don’t do this. Shhh. Shhh.
I very firmly told myself not to do this, again, then I started the motor in two tries, turned the boat, and headed back, jarring over the small waves, with the villa dead ahead in my line of sight.
He’d known I’d do this, had planned this.
He wanted me to try to get away. Why?
Why?
To break that so-called agreement between us? An agreement he’d set up.
Maybe.
Why?
He could’ve done anything to me anyway, couldn’t he?
Why, rattled through my brain as I drew close to the villa.
Because...doing this had let the monster have fun.
He’d turned on floodlights so I could see...them. I passed the first one floating in the sea. The first upturned white face, though she rolled as I chugged past, her clothes swirling, a wave washing over her.
The girl with the chestnut hair. No blood coiled in or stained the water.