Page 97 of When It Reins
Nerves rattleme as I see Aaron hastily packing a bag for me. It is such a ruse. I know it, he knows it, and yet, he’s doing it anyway. Acting like this whole situation is some sort of reunion where we get back together and are about to drive off into the sunset together.
I shift my stance, glancing around the room for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but I’m a minimalist by nature, and there is nothing out, nothing handy that I can grab. Aaron still holds the gun in his hand, his focus moving between me and his task.
“Where are we going?” I ask, bravely speaking since the dreadful phone call he made me make. I didn’t want to do that, didn’t want to say a word of what I did to Mitch, but I was left with little choice.
Above all, I don’t want Mitch to get hurt in any of this. It is my fault it is happening to begin with. I was the one who went snooping around, the one who got myself involved when I shouldn’t have.
“Now that your little boyfriend is out of the picture, we’re going far, far away from here.” He smiles at me, somehow keeping that mask of the old him on his face. “Say goodbye, because we won’t be returning.”
I swallow and think of anything to say to distract him, to keep him from making me leave this place. Surely, Logan would say something about me being gone. Maybe Mitch would notice that my voice and tone were off. Maybe he will come and see for himself.
That thought is both hopeful and full of fear. If he comes, there is a chance he can help me—a good one, considering he is a very capable person. But if he comes, he might also end up on the receiving end of that gun, and that thought is terrifying to imagine.
“What about your parents?” The memory of him talking about his family in Denver strikes me, and I add a little smile to the question, trying my best to keep up the act that this isn’t the most horrifying situation I’ve ever been in.
“Parents?” He frowns, zipping up the bag he packed. “I don’t have parents, Juniper.”
“But—”
“I lied, sweetheart.” He steps closer to me, his face soft as he says, “I’m so sorry I did, but I wanted you to think I was normal, that I had a family at all.” He looks down, then back to me again, his hand reaching up to trace my jawline with his finger. I try not to flinch at the contact. “Truth is, when I was six, they died in a fire.”
I blink, surprised by this new information. “I’m sorry.” And I am. As an orphan myself, I know how awful that feels.
“I didn’t expect the blaze to go up so fast.” He whispers the words, his eyes landing on something over my shoulder, and I watch as they glaze over. “I found the matches in my father’s desk. They never let me play with matches.”
I stand in shocked horror, my mouth slightly agape at the words that are pouring out of his mouth. “I just wanted to light one thing, but I couldn’t find a candle. Then the curtains were near the buffet table, and I thought, fabric is probably flammable. So I lit the match, held it to the corner of the curtain, and watched as the fire ate it.
“It happened so fast. The blaze caught the old wood that framed the window, then the paint on the walls and the drywall beneath. I barely had time to get out.”
He looks back at me, coming back to himself, and smiles sadly. “They were upstairs, sound asleep, and had no idea what was coming for them.”
Oh my god.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
He killed his own parents.
“Now, time to go,” he says, grasping my arm tightly in his hand and pushing me through the bedroom doorway, guiding me out of the apartment, and not bothering to shut the door behind him.
“That will tip Mitch off that I didn’t leave of my own accord.”
Aaron looks back at the door and then turns to me, a wicked smile on his face. “Huh. Maybe it’ll keep him up at night.” He steps closer, my feet inching back. “Maybe he’ll think about this open doorway for the rest of his life and always wonder where you possibly could have disappeared to.”
Another step, and he’s in my face, his hand grasping my jaw as he pulls my lips to his own. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and I bite it hard, making him jerk back. Anger visibly pulses through him, and the back of his hand hits my face before I can take another breath. I feel every ounce of control slip through me at the pain his hand leaves.
“Now, that’s not very nice, Juniper,” he says this calmly, but the look on his face says he’s not at all calm, that he’s barelyhanging on to the thread of control he has left. “You behave, or we’ll make a stop at that sweet old lady’s house, and I can show you how you’ll end up if you disobey me.”
I swallow down the pain, grasping the handrail to the stairs and glaring back at him. “Don’t you dare hurt anyone else.”
“Then fucking obey me. It’s not that hard,” he snarls, grabbing me by the back of the hair and hauling me down the stairs. I search around desperately, hoping someone will see what is happening, hoping someone will figure out that this is so wrong and alert someone who can help me.
When I see no one, I glare at the trunk. “Are you locking me in there?”
Aaron looks from me to the trunk, popping it open and tossing my bag inside. “Hmm. Tempting.” He looks at me, then uses his hand on the back of my head to pull me closer. I grimace at the pain and nearly spit in his face.
“Are you going to behave? Or do I need to do what you suggested?”
I don’t say a word. I keep my mouth shut, hoping that this nightmare will end, and I can get out of this alive.
