Page 118 of Make Me Scream

He unzips his trousers and lets them fall to the floor; the fabric brushes my heels.

Fuck this. I will never make this easy on him. Not a chance.

I kick my foot back as far as the chains will allow; I only go a few inches, but with Mundell leaving no space between us, it’s all the room I need to pound my heel into his bare shin.

“Ow, shit!”

He backs up before I can stomp on his foot, so I keep kicking. It’s all I can do at this point.

“You dumb bitch, that was not fucking smart.”

I close my eyes as his hands wrap around my throat.

Do it, asshole.

I’ll make you regret it if you don’t.

His fingers link together, but they don’t tighten.

A snap sounds through the room, followed by a whine.

“What the fuck?” Mundell says, letting me go.

I open my eyes, wondering a moment if I’d died. The room is completely dark; a pitch black deeper than I’ve ever experienced.

Then a small glow sparks to life, barely enough to see by.

“The power is down,” Mundell says, as much to himself as us. “The backup generator kicked in… Oh god, fuck!”

Without being able to see much of anything, even if I could turn around, I listen closely. Clothes slide over skin, followed by the zipper. The chains around my ankles jerk taut, then let go.

“I told you they’d come for me,” I say.

I could be completely wrong. For all I know, a raging thunderstorm knocked out a transmission line and this is nothing — but I don’t think so. Mundell’s scared.

Cold, sharp metal presses against my throat.

“You better hope not, bitch. If Lane’s here, he’s going to watch you die.”

Chapter 28

Shuffling forward with one’s ankles chained together is difficult enough without having a knife against one’s neck. I barely breathe as Mundell walks me up the stairs, passing his gallery and reaching the ground level. We emerge from the building to see a dark figure standing in front of us.

He wears gloves, jeans and a jacket — all black — and covers his face with a white theatrical comedy mask, its wide, joyous smile gaping in the darkness.

“That you, Lane?” Mundell says.

“Yeah.”

His voice comes from everywhere, booming in the frigid night. Despite my exposure to the chill breeze, my body warms knowing he’s here.

Is he, though? The figure in front of us seems… not like Lane. Maybe it’s just the disguise, but something feels off.

“Gwen, I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” Lane says. “I’m sorry for everything I did. I should have listened to you. This is my fault.”

“It’s okay,” I say, already in tears.

Lane screwed up, but he didn’t know Mundell was such a psychopath. Neither did I. He hid his true nature from the world, but now everyone will know.

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