41

ALORA

JULY 4, 2013

My head is throbbing like a heartbeat when I wake up. Something is stuffed in my mouth. I gag and try to spit it out.

“Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakens,” a male voice says.

I’m swaddled in semidarkness. The only light shines from a candle on a small table next to the bed I’m on—or rather tied to. My arms are stretched out above my head, bound with a rough cord. It bites into my skin as I try to yank my arms back to my sides. My head thrashes from side to side, taking in the piles of old furniture, and dust and dirt everywhere. I recognize where I’m at. It’s the abandoned house in the woods.

“No need for that,” the voice says. It’s smooth and threatening at the same time. “You’re not going anywhere.”

A figure moves from the shadows at the end of the bed. I stare at him in horror and try to scream, but I can’t. What is he doing?

Mr. Palmer lets out a low chuckle and scrapes a chair across the floor, letting it rest next to the bed. He sits and stares at me as if he could devour me whole, a crazed gleam in his eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, my dear Jane.”

Jane? Who is that?

He caresses the side of my face, but I jerk my head away and try to yell again. Pointless, but I try anyway. All I can think is I trusted him. Aunt Grace trusted him. And he’s doing this?

The candlelight glints off his glasses as he takes them off and places them on the table. “Oh, yes, I’m going to enjoy myself tonight.”

It feels like someone has sucked all the air out of the room as reality hits me.

I try to scream.

Palmer smiles and leans close, so close that I smell the staleness of his breath. He whispers in my ear, “Go ahead. Nobody’s gonna hear you. Nobody’s gonna save you.”

And then he licks the side of my face. Bile rises in my throat, and I gag again.

“You better get used to it.” He smile is sinister, showing crooked teeth. “Now, I’ll take this out, but only if you promise to be quiet.”

I force myself to nod.

He tugs out the rag, and I take in several gulps of air while I think. Could there be some way to get him to let me go? He did seem to share a bond with Aunt Grace.

“You don’t have to do this.” My voice is a hoarse whisper, and I force myself to speak a little louder. “I won’t tell anybody. Not even Aunt Grace. I swear.”

“No, you won’t. You won’t be telling anybody anything. Not when I’m finished. I’m going to make you pay for what you did to me. Just like I’ve already made the other one pay.”

Other one? Could he be talking about Naomi?

He stands and places his hands on either side of me while licking his lower lip. I hold still, too scared to move. Too scared to breathe. But I make myself keep talking.

“Why are you doing this? What have I ever done to you?”

Palmer pauses and looks somewhere over me, as if he’s really seeing something, or remembering something.

“You’re all just alike. You and Fran. Nothing but lying whores.”

“I don’t know who Jane is or who Fran is, but you’re mistaken. My name is Alora.”

“Don’t lie to me!” he shouts. “You and Fran ruined my life with your lies. I never touched either one of you, and yet because of you two I lost everything! My wife. My kids. My teaching career. My whole life!”

He reaches over and picks up something off the table. I want to shrink away—it’s a knife. He stares at it almost lovingly as he says, “Oh yes, I’m going to take from you just what you took from me. A life for a life. Just like I took care of Fran a few months ago.”

By now I’m shaking. I remember the first time I met Palmer, when he said I looked like somebody he knew. Apparently Palmer has completely lost touch with reality. So he did something to two girls and paid for it. Now he’s taking it out on me—and possibly murdered Naomi.

He’s not just a perv; he’s a killer.

And I’m next.

He returns the knife to the table and places his hands on the sides of my face, stroking my cheeks. Then his hands trail down my neck.

Please stop.

But he’s not going to stop. Nobody’s going to help me. Nobody but me. A fire sparks deep inside me and flames throughout my body. I won’t lie here like I’m already dead and let him get away with this. Not without giving him hell.

I draw my legs up and twist my hips toward Palmer while kicking out. My feet connect with his chest. He stumbles backward, his arms flailing. His hand knocks against the table and sweeps the candle over. It rolls against the rotting curtains, igniting them. The fire spreads rapidly.

While Palmer grabs a blanket and tries to smother the flames, I yank against my restraints. They won’t give. I don’t know what to do. I need to get outside.

Smoke fills the room and I begin to cough. I squeeze my eyes shut, visualizing the yard outside, wishing with all my might that I was there.

Suddenly, the smoke disappears.

I look up to find the stars overhead. I’m stretched out on the ground outside the house. I blink several times. What is going on?

Through the window, the flickering flames make the house look like a jack-o’-lantern I quickly stand up.

Before I can figure out what happened, the door flies open and Palmer rushes out. His eyes lock onto mine.

I don’t think.

I turn around and run.