Page 19 of The Trap

I click play, zooming in on where she stands in the hallway, and I can’t help but notice how she looks like she’s seen a ghost. The confidence she usually has draped over her has vanished and in its place appears to be mild apprehension. Narrowing my suspicious eyes, I study her and notice there’s something in her hand, but the footage is too grainy to tell what it is. I try zooming in more, but all I can see is a pixelated view of her placing whatever it is into her bra.

I zoom out, expecting her to move down the hallway to the staircase, but she pivots instead. I follow her movements until she stops at the library. She looks over her shoulder before opening the door and slipping into the room. Immediately I pause the footage and move to the library cameras. Rewinding the footage to align with the timestamp of her standing outside the library doors, I see her there with an uncharacteristically dumbfounded look on her face. Lowering my pistol onto thedesk, my elbows fall on the tabletop as I watch her skim the endless shelves of books.

“What are you looking for, mama?” I mutter aloud.

Moving my hand to the control once more, I fast forward, skimming through until I see her reach for something. I resume the normal playback speed and watch her take a book from a nearby shelf. A mischievous grin spreads over her face when she begins to shake the book in hand.

Then she opens it and I realize it isn’t a book at all.

Zooming in, I watch her take two items from the box, slipping them into her bra before sneaking out of the library and back into the hall.

Jesus Christ, how much can she fit in that bra of hers when it’s already overflowing from those perky, full tits? My mind begins to race with images of her hand teasing the fabric of her dress in the dining room, sending blood to my cock. But the fact that I was right, that she was in a hurry because she took something that didn’t belong to her, overshadows the lust I feel.

I rise from the chair just as a thud sounds from outside the doorway. Grip locked on the pistol, I burst through the control room out into the hallway. The noise sounds again, softer than the first time, though this time it appears to be coming from the bedrooms.

Racing down the hall, I burst into my room first, inspecting it with caution as quickly as I can, but it’s clear. Moving out into the hall, I sprint towards Brett’s that shares a thin sheetrock wall with my own.

“Brett!” I shout, pounding my fist on the door, but there’s no answer. “Open up!” I shout again, but still no response. Lowering my hand to the door handle, I half expect it to be locked, but to my surprise it swings right open.

I go to step into the room, but my feet slip from beneath me as I trip over something solid. Mid tumble I look and see adisheveled Brett sprawled out on the floor with his fucking dick out.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what did she do to you?” I murmur as I crawl over to him. My hand glides to his neck, pressing two fingers onto his carotid to check that she didn’t fucking kill him. Despite my neutral feelings toward my brother, relief spreads through my lungs when I feel his pulse beating beneath my fingers.

I drag Brett onto his bed and begin to scan his room. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m looking for. Other than a bottle of whipped cream on the floor, nothing is out of place. Everything looks as it usually does. Minimalistic and dull… like him. I continue to look around when my nostrils are hit with a pungent aroma I can’t quite place. Suddenly the garter she was wearing, that peaked through when she stumbled by the staircase flashes in my mind. I didn’t think anything of it at first, assuming that whatever was trapped between the fabric was lipstick or something. But now, that I see Brett’s current state pairing that with how she was snooping around and, in a hurry, to get out of here, it’s fucking obvious she did this to him. I don’t need to get closer to know that whatever dripped onto the floor was used to knock him out.

Disbelief smacks me in the face. I mean I knew she was up to no good, but this? Poisoning my brother? After she sucked him off and had me fucking watch no less? She’s more sadistic than I even gave her credit for. And as inappropriate and delusional as it is, a part of me wonders if she spared me the same fate out of the kindness of her questionable heart, because she cares more than she’ll admit to.

Either way, this is a mess and I need to figure out what she took and how to proceed next.

My phone vibrates, pulling me from my thoughts.

It’s Maddox.

That was quick. He better have good news for me because I need to find her…now.

Swiping the answer bar across the screen, I bring the phone to my ear.

“Maddox,” I greet, already sensing something is off from the way he’s breathing into the phone.

“Hey,” he whispers. “I can’t talk long. I’m uh…I’m at a job but listen.”

My hand motions for him to continue even though he obviously can’t see it. “I’m listening, what’s up?”

“There’s no Sally Hardesty that matches the description you gave,” he deadpans.

“Are you sure? I can go through our surveillance and pull up her license plate to give you,” I begin, although it’s not lost on me how she usually drives here and tonight her eye sore of a car wasn’t in the driveway.

“No need. I already hacked into your surveillance system.”

Of course he did.

“And?” I urge.

“I got the license and vin number, gave it to my guy and as I expected, your Sally Hardesty begins and ends with the movie.”

“What movie?” I press.

“Texas Chainsaw. I told you. That’s the final girl from that movie. Fuck, dude, we need to get you watching horror movies and not all those stoner comedies you like.” Sensing the anger in the way I’m currently breathing into the phone, he thankfully continues. “I did find the address where the vehicle is registered and it was reported stolen by a woman who lives in Larchmont—excuse me,livedin Larchmont.”

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