Page 11 of The Lies that Bind Us, Part One

He was gone.

But, no, he wasn’t.

“Looking for me?” Brett’s menacing voice spoke to my left, and he was on me before I could say a word. Hidden behind where the door opened, I hadn’t noticed him as I’d walked in, which opened me up for the attack.

His large, strong hands wrapped around my neck, squeezing hard as he spun me around and slammed me against the wall. His tall, wide frame loomed over mine, a look of pure fury on his face as he choked me.

“This is for hitting me with your fucking car and leaving me tied up in this shitty place,” Brett hissed out, baring a perfect set of pearly white teeth at me. He didn’t wear the same shirt as last night; he’d changed into the shirt I’d bought from the twenty-four-hour convenience store. The Dr. Pepper logo sat plastered on his chest, just a little bit off, like the owners of the store had made the shirt themselves in the back of their van or something.

I brought a hand to one of his wrists, not so much as trying to pull him off me as I was simply holding onto him. My throat burned with the pressure of his hands, my mouth suddenly so very dry. My lungs ached with the need to breathe, but nothing I did could fill them thanks to the hands curled tightly around my neck. I stared up into his furious blue eyes.

Was this how I was going to die? Was this what would do it? A killer I’d stupidly tried to get to help me? I guess it was what I deserved, for wishing death on someone else, on my stalker, whoever the fuck he was.

But my stalker wasn’t the first person I’d wanted to kill, not the first person I’d wanted to hurt. No, the first person I’d wanted to end was currently pinned against the wall, with hands wrapped around her throat.

Me. I’d wanted to kill me, only I never quite got there.

And that was why, instead of fighting him, instead of punching him on his wound and inflicting pain on him to get him off me, I tore my hand off his wrist and shut my eyes, accepting. If I was going to die here, there was no point in fighting it.

Let death have me. It’d been trying for years.

Just as I grew lightheaded and dizzy, Brett let me go. The sudden release made me start coughing, and I opened my eyes to see he’d taken a step back and was watching me with what must’ve been curiosity.

As I lifted a hand to my neck and rubbed where he’d choked me, he asked, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck is wrong with you? I was going to kill you, and you just stood there like you didn’t care. It’s less fun when prey plays dead.”

As curious as he might be about me, I didn’t come here to talk about me. I simply said, “Nice shirt,” and walked over to the bed, where I set down my purse and pulled out the two pill bottles. “These are for you.” My voice was a little hoarse after that; I hoped I wouldn’t bruise. I didn’t know how I’d explain a ring of bruises around my neck to my parents.

He moved to stand next to me, staring down at the pill bottles without saying a word. The shirt did fit him well, even if it looked a little ridiculous. He was big enough that extra-large fit him nicely. It didn’t hang in the wrong places.

Brett groaned, muttered, “Great,” and sat down to inspect their labels.

“They’re a little old, but better than nothing.” I pointed to the one he currently inspected. “That one’s for pain, and the other’s antibiotics. My sister is hopefully going to get more for me.” When those crisp, clear blue eyes lifted to me, I added, “I didn’t tell her about you, obviously. I told her a friend of a friend got stabbed and doesn’t have health insurance, so—”

He flashed me a smile, though just like last night, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t really care what you told her… but thanks.” His smile was handsome at face value, but if you stared too long at it, you could spot its flaws. There was a coldness to it, like the smile itself was calculated, meant to put you off-guard so he could swoop in and show his true murderous colors.

Maybe that was how he’d survived this long. He didn’t look like a killer at all.

“I brought more food for you too, and drinks. Let me go get them from the car. You should take one of those.” I pointed to my dad’s old pills, turning my back to Brett as I went to get the bags.

Even though the danger had passed, my neck still burned, and my heart still raced a mile a minute. I’d stared death in the face on more than one occasion, but this time… I think this time I was really ready. Not sure if that was ironic or not.

When I returned to the room, lugging all the bags, I found Brett standing near the bed. He’d lifted up his shirt to reveal my stitch work on his stomach, and all the muscles around it. “I still can’t believe that bitch stabbed me,” he muttered, glancing up at me as he let go of his shirt.

While waiting to hear back from my sister, unable to sleep, I’d done a little reading when it came to Brett Banks. I knew what he did, who he’d tried to make his last victim. The bodies had been mutilated and torn apart, to the point where some officers on the scene had gotten ill.

I didn’t say anything to him, just set the bags on the floor near the nightstand. Honestly, I was trying not to look at him too much. He wasn’t as pale as he’d been last night, more color to his cheeks. Even with that fake smile, he was still a good-looking guy, a guy who’d never, ever look at me like he wanted more from me.

“You’re pretty calm, considering I just tried to kill you,” Brett said as he sat at the foot of the bed, eyes on me. “What’s your story, Charlie? If you can look me in the eye while I’m strangling you and not blink, I think you can handle your own stalker.”

“That’s different.” I peeled the bloody towels off the bed and went to drop them on the floor in the bathroom. The woman who ran this place had told me there’s no daily housekeeping; it’s just once when you leave, but if I wanted more towels, all I had to do was go to the main office and pick some up. “I don’t know who it is.”

“Don’t they say they’re usually someone you know?”

I walked out of the bathroom, and I sat on the other side of the bed, my back to Brett. “That’s for kidnapping, I think.”

“Look at you, breaking conventions and kidnapping me, a random stranger.”

I lifted a leg, turning halfway around to see that Brett had done the same. “I know most people would’ve turned you in, if they found you. I just… I don’t know. I saw an opportunity, I guess. It’s like I’ve been living with this shadow over my head that no one else knows about, and I just know that if I try to tell someone, like my parents, they’ll say I’m exaggerating or tell me that it’s not that bad.”

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