Page 68 of Safe
As I looked in the mirror, I second-guessed how easy this was and started questioning if Danielle was up to something. But then again, she was never known for her strong will or smarts. Like that one time I had convinced her in just ten minutes that I "accidentally" found that duffel bag of cash, ignorant of the fact that I'd returned to drug running. Sometimes, I swore she was fucking willfully stupid.
I reached into my pocket to check the time, but my phone wasn’t in its usual spot in the left pocket; it was in the right. I paused for a second, trying to think back to when I had ever left it unattended.
Seriously? Just now? There’s no fucking way.
It seemed impossible until I began piecing it together. My gut was right; I knew she hadn’t come around that fucking easily. She used me. Maybe she was smarter than I’d given her credit for.
I pulled the phone from my pocket and opened it. No recent calls since my last one. I checked the text messages, and there it was: Alex’s number. No message, no response, just a blank text. I knew that was all Alex needed.
“That fucking bitch!”
I tore the shirt over my head, stretching the seams as the fabric clung to my slicked skin, and stormed down the hall. She had really fucking done it now.
There was no walking this back, no smoothing it over. The fury boiling inside me wasn’t just anger—it was a detonation. My fists clenched like they had minds of their own, aching for something to hit, to break. My vision tunneled, red creeping in at the edges. She wasn’t getting away from me this time. Did she really think she could fucking outsmart me? Or was she just too fucking stupid for her own good?
She must have heard me coming, because when I kicked the door open, she was already huddled in the corner, bracing for whatever was coming. Oh, she had no idea what I was going to do to her. I was done playing her game. The old plan went to shit, and she wasn’t going to like the alternative. If she wasn’t going to be my captive, then she would just have to be my victim.
“Landon…” I couldn’t hear anything except absolute fear in her voice.
Good.
I got twisted satisfaction from her dread. I cut her off before she could try and justify anything.
“You stupid FUCKING bitch!” There was nothing left to say beyond that. Blinding rage ripped through me like an uncontrollable wildfire. My hands were already shaking, and my jaw clenched so tight it ached. Blood pounded in my ears, drowning out every sound but my own breath. My vision tunneled until all I could see was the look on her face, knowing she had just lost the little bit of control she had left.
My fist shot forward, and my knuckles split against her cheekbone with a sickening crack. Her head snapped back, the side of her skull slamming into the edge of the tub with a hollow thud. She collapsed in an awkward heap as she hit the tile.
I waited for her to get up, intending to hit her again and again. But after several seconds had passed, she was still out cold.
“God damn it!” I shouted as I grabbed Danielle's legs and dragged her out of the room, toward the stairs.
At the top, I hesitated—how was I supposed to get her down? But it didn’t matter; I was going to kill her either way. I hauled her limp body down the stairs, her dead weight hitting each step with a sickening thud, until we reached the front room. By the time I had her slumped in a chair, she had started making noises.
I stormed into the dining room, snatching the tablecloth from the table and sending everything crashing to the floor. The noise was loud enough to wake Danielle further, and I hurried back into the room, pulling my knife from my back pocket.
“Landon, what the fuck? Are you going to kill me?”
I held the knife up to her neck, but I wasn’t going to kill her yet. No, she was going to suffer first. I made sure she knew not to move from the chair. Once she looked like she understood, I took the knife and started cutting the tablecloth up into long strips and using them to tie her arms and legs to the chair. I didn’t answer her question; I was too busy working through a new plan in my head. Obviously, everything went to shit the minute she sent that text, so I knew I had to come up with something fast.
“Are you deaf? I asked if you were going to kill me?”
The nerve of this bitch. I had a knife, she was already covered in blood, concussed, and tied to a chair. And yet, she had the nerve to think she was going to talk to me like that? I finished tying up the last limb and then took the knife and cut deep into Danielle’s arm. She let out a blood-curdling scream right into my ear. For a minute, I thought her obnoxious screaming would make me go deaf. I grabbed her by the throat, hard, to shut her up.
“I’m going to do what I want. And the less you open your fucking mouth, the less it’s going to hurt. Can you fucking understand that?”
She didn’t say anything; she was too busy crying. I paced back and forth for a while, trying to figure out what to do with her. If her brother had gotten that message and figured out it was from Danielle, I knew I didn’t have long before he was down here; a few hours at most. Blood from Danielle’s arm was starting to drip down the chair and pool on the floor. That definitely needed to stop if I was going to have to move her. I didn’t want any trace of her being here if her brother or the cops showed up.
“Jesus Christ, stop fucking bleeding everywhere. I’m not gonna keep cleaning up after you.” I took my knife and cut off another piece of the tablecloth, and tied it around her arm.
“Oh sure, cut me, yell at me for bleeding, and then bandage it up? Are you fucking insane?” Danielle was screaming the words at me, inches from my face.
“Insane? Was it insane to just want a life with you?”
She looked at me with disgust.
“A life? What life, Landon? A life as your prisoner in an abandoned house?”
“No, Danielle, before. All I wanted was you and my fucking job, but no. You made me choose. And you had to know you werenevergonna fucking win.”
