Page 44 of Fear Me, Love Me

“My heart is still racing and my palms are sweating as I write this.”

Tyrant Mercer steps toward me out of the shadows with a taunting smile on his lips and a pink book in his large, tattooed hand. For some bizarre reason, he’s holding one of my teenage diaries and reading aloud from it.

This can’t be happening.

I’m still asleep and having a nightmare.

“There will never be a day more wonderful than this one as long as I shall live. Let July seventeenth mark the occasion of the best day of my life. I will be thinking about these moments until I die.”

My body flushes hot and cold as I realize which entry he’s reading from. I was fifteen when I wrote those words. The events of that day—and worse, how I gushed about them—are excruciating to remember considering where I am now. It’s bad enough what’s on those first two or three pages, but the confession I wrote after? It’s the last thing I want anyone to know, and I would rather tie rocks to my ankles and hurl myself into Tyrant’s lake than have him discover my most shameful secret.

I get slowly to my feet, my palms pressed against the wall behind me while my mind races. Tyrant is nearly twice my size. There’s no way I’ll be able to wrestle that diary away from him, and he’s probably dying for me to try. If I’m not here, if I refuse to listen, he’ll lose interest in reading it aloud.

Pretending that I’m bored by this new turn of events and not inwardly panicking, I head for the door with what I hope is a nonchalant expression on my face.

When I try the handle, I find that it’s locked.

“Ah-ah, Vivienne. You’re not getting out of here so easily, and that door isn’t on a timer.”

I turn around and see that Tyrant has a set of keys dangling from his forefinger.

I swallow down a wave of anxiety. “You can keep my diary. Go nuts, read as much of it as you like if you’re that interested in the ramblings of a teenage girl. I’ve finished my nap, and now I’m going back out there to your labyrinth. I’m on the clock, remember? I don’t have time for this.”

Tyrant tucks the keys back into his pocket with a smirk. “You’ll do whatever I want, Vivienne, and right now you are going to listen to every glorious detail of this fascinating diary entry.”

Not the whole entry. Please, God, no.

My despair must show on my face. Tyrant laughs, raises my diary, and keeps reading.

“It’s been so hot these past few weeks. Too hot to go home and be a nuisance to Dad and Samantha until it’s dinnertime. If I’m late, they don’t care much. I think they prefer it when I’m not around so they can talk about what they’re most excited for, which is starting a family of their own. They don’t need to hide the fact that they want a baby. I’m not jealous. I’m excited. I love babies, and I’ve always wanted a little sister or brother. If Samantha has a baby, there’ll be all sorts of things for me to do to help like wash tiny itty bitty baby clothes, mash up fruit and vegetables for baby food, and sing the little one to sleep. It will be wonderful if Samantha is able to get pregnant.”

A pang goes through me at the memory. The anticipation I felt that Samantha might get pregnant. The joy when I discovered she was. After Barlow was born, for whole hours at a time, I was able to forget the terrible thing that happened when I was fifteen. I never thought I would make it through all that pain, but Barlow saved my life, which is why I won’t give up trying to get him back from Tyrant Mercer. Barlow saved me, and now I’m going to save him.

Tyrant turns the page and keeps reading. “Anyway, this evening I was sitting on the edge of the fountain down in the big park. That side of the park is usually pretty quiet, but you can still hear the traffic on the main road. I was enjoying the way the hot breeze would blow spray from the fountain across my back and watching the occasional person walk by.

“About forty feet from me, a beautiful girl in a tight, coral-colored dress was standing at the curb like she was waiting for someone. She was my age or maybe a year older, but we were not similar in any other way. I would never be brave enough to wear such a tight dress. I would never be allowed to wear such a tight dress, but I was vividly imagining what I’d look like in something so daring.”

Tyrant glances at me, his head on one side as he assesses my body. “That sexy, coral-colored dress? It wouldn’t suit you, little ingenue.”

I narrow my eyes in hatred. That was unnecessary. I know now that such a garment would make me look like a little girl playing dress-up with her mother’s sophisticated clothes, but give me a break. I was wondering about it to my diary, and I was fifteen.

Enjoying that he’s pissed me off, Tyrant smirks and keeps reading. “The fountain had been leaking and there was a puddle in the road—”

“Wait,” I call. Tyrant pauses and raises one of his eyebrows at me. “I know what happens next. You know what happens next. Why are we wasting time with this?”

“Why would I remember anything about events that you wrote about in your diary? I’m on tenterhooks to find out what happens next. Don’t interrupt me again or I’ll take six hours off your time limit.”

I grit my teeth and clench my fists. I hate him so much.

“The fountain had been leaking and there was a puddle in the road right by where the girl was standing. Just then, a car came along, and from the way it slowed down, I thought it was the car the girl was waiting for. Suddenly it swerved, sped up, and drove right through the puddle, splashing dirty road water all over the girl. She gasped in shock and jumped back, but it was too late. Her dress was ruined, her hair was dripping, and so was her makeup. She couldn’t do anything but stare down at herself in shock and despair while the men in the car all laughed at her.

“They were so busy laughing that they didn’t notice someone striding across the road with murder in his eyes. He came out of nowhere, reached in through the car window, and pulled the driver out of the car. Just yanked a whole person through a car window and threw him to the ground. The driver was young, only nineteen or twenty, and probably very stupid if he thought it was funny to go around humiliating girls in the street. But he wasn’t too stupid to know that he’d made a huge mistake when he saw who was standing over him, angrier than a bull with a red flag being waved in its face.

“I gripped the edge of the fountain with both hands, knowing I should flee, but my heart was pounding so hard, and I had to know what happened next. I recognized the man in the black suit. Tyrant Mercer, and he was furious.

“The man on the ground tried to flee, but as soon as he was on his feet, Tyrant punched him, a brutal blow that made the driver crumple to the ground, unconscious. One of the other men jumped out of the car and tried to run, but Tyrant pulled out a gun and shot him in the thigh. The crack of the gun echoed off the buildings. The road. Blood spattered everywhere. The gunshot should have brought people running, but suddenly everyone was minding their own business.

“The last man emerged from the car holding a knife. He and Tyrant stared each other down for a moment. Attack, or flee? His two friends were bleeding in the road, but apparently, this man thought he could take Tyrant because, a moment later, he attacked.

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