Page 94 of Beautiful Prey

But Emery wasn’t normal.

Just when I was sure I had that little hope of gaining some trust, it was dashed right away.

Still, I had no other argument. “My brother gave it to me,” I said with little confidence. “But I had no idea where it came from. He only said a patient of his made it.”

“Is that right?”

I glared at him. “Yes.”

“And where is it now, Evee?”

I opened my mouth to say I didn’t know. Then I closed it.

No…I did know where. It was here. But I couldn’t get to it. Not unless…

“Hmm? Don’t know? Well, guess it doesn’t matter, you probably threw it in the trash and forgot.” He shut my laptop then kneeled, getting close again. “Because that’s what you and your family do, take precious things, play with them for a while, then throw them in the trash. Your father took me and playedaround then threw me out when he was done. My sister, rest her fucking soul, would have been the same. Your brother threw out a lot of our things too. Your uncle and cousin tossed bodies. Animals and children into the same garbage pile. And you? I can guess. You throw out hearts. That Ethan guy was pretty messed up.” Emery started to laugh, covering his mask with his hand. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, he was a real loser. And I relished killing him, I really did. But man, did he have it out for you. It was him who let me go. He freed me so I could get to you.” He stood and came around behind me, his hand gripping the couch end close to me as he bent down and got close to my ear. “And that guy who came to your rescue. Yeah, you got him too. Making you promises. I’m sure he’s losing sleep just looking for you.”

Boy, suddenly I missed when he was silent. This ranting Emery was much more outwardly unhinged. I swallowed hard, knowing I shouldn’t bait him but I couldn’t help it. “And you,” I said. “I got you too?”

“Oh, yes.” I felt the fabric of the couch tear in his tight grip. “How I worshiped you. A little goddess, I thought, as I saw you step into the room that first time. I was trapped the moment you smiled at me. I would have done anything to just have you look at me like I was more than a freak. I would have killed for it.” He unlatched himself from the couch. “The moment you revealed who you were, I felt my heart shrivel up in my chest. I felt sick.”

I clenched my hands into fists on my lap. “I didn’t want you to know. I changed my mind, remember?” I whispered.

“Oh, right, because you started to feel sorry for me and took that as love,” he snarled. I heard something crash into the wall, making me jump to my feet. I turned to see a now broken remote slide across the kitchen. He backed away from me.

“Do you need to read my thesis again?” I snapped. “Or are you just going to keep creating this narrative in your head, a narrative the smiling woman or maybe your sister made up—”

“Don’t you dare—”

“They aren’t real! They’re just in your head!” I yelled. “She’s gone and dead, Emery, she’s not there, get over it!”

I froze, shocked at my own words. I expected him to lose it.

Instead, I saw the hurt in his eyes. Just for a split second I saw the vulnerable Emery, that little boy who was scared and uncertain. I think I even heard his sharp intake of breath.

Then in a blink it was gone, replaced with scary Emery again. He turned from me, refusing to respond.

I was so done making excuses for him. Yet, jabbing him like this was the worst thing I could do. As his therapist, it was unthinkable.

But I wasn’t that person for him anymore. Not when his illness made him act like a monster.

“They’re not there…” I repeated, apologetically. “And I didn’t know about the necklace.”

He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking. “Guess it doesn’t matter, does it? Come tomorrow…it won’t matter.”

He took my laptop and disappeared up the stairs.

Every step forward was two steps back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I stood by the stove, glaring at the stairway as I waited for my eggs to fry. My uncle’s kitchen was small but useful even with some of the gadgets gone. And Emery had stocked the cupboards and fridge with my food from the apartment so there was no use traveling upstairs to cook.

He didn’t lock me up in the room again after letting me out. A small silver lining all things considered.

I learned very quickly the reason why he didn’t. He wasn’t worried I’d get out somehow because there was no way out. I checked the sliding door by the kitchen and found he’d sealed the lock shut, the glass already covered by thin boards. Even if I could somehow manage to break the glass through them, he’d hear it in a heartbeat.

Then there was the cellar door. I only had a small hope that he might have forgotten about it. My heart skipped a beat when I tried it and found it open. The cellar was really just the older, unfinished side of the basement, where a few unimportant things or not so valuable stuff had been stored along with the washer and dryer. There was a separate stair from there that led to the outside, an old entrance from back when the house was first made and hadn’t yet been renovated and expanded. Onlymy rising excitement sank when I found the door at the top of the stairs to be locked from the inside with a padlock. I thought about taking a hammer to it, but expected Emery would hear that too. Still, the idea lingered in my head with the possibility. Maybe something else to pry it open…or a saw to cut the lock apart.

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