Carmen Winters
I wince at the pain in my arm as Brad drags me roughly to his car. My feet are still bare, and moving this quickly over the ground causes pebbles to dig sharply into the tender soles of my feet. Brad’s coarse fingers will surely leave bruises in my soft flesh; he is manhandling me in the way that someone would drag a runaway horse back to the stable. The fear and humiliation registers in my mind, but I am not completely capable of feeling it. The image of my burning home has rendered me too emotionally numb to be able to suffer any more.
Just a few hours ago, my father was sleeping peacefully in his bed. Now, he’s fighting for his life in the hospital. And I might never see him again.
Turning to stare at Brad blankly, I observe his features.
Everything is the fault of this twisted man. This monster.
How can one person be responsible for so much disaster? How can one person get away with ruining so many lives? He looks like a normal human being. His perfectly-styled sandy brown hair and his chiseled jaw are masculine and appealing. He looks like a charming young man; a recent college graduate filled with ambition and fire. That’s what I once thought he was. I guess I am easily fooled by appearances.
I don’t even understand this. I don’t understand why.
I must have led a very sheltered life, because I can’t seem to comprehend someone being this violent and vindictive. Is there some underlying reason? Should I even bother to try and make sense of it?
Did something happen to Brad in his youth? Or was he just born this way?
Evil.
That’s the only word in the English language that comes close to describing what I see in his eyes. Even when I thought I knew, I didn’t know. I didn’t truly understand what he was capable of. I should have never let this man’s heart keep beating. I should have never let him have the privilege of breathing in a single additional breath.
I look at his chest rising and falling in fury as he drags me across the cobblestones.
Every breath he takes is an abomination.
How dare he? As I breathe in my own lungful of air, I feel revolted that I am forced to share the same oxygen with this man. It is blasphemy that the same precious atmosphere should nourish both of our bodies and lives. How dare he? His mere existence is an infringement on all that is good and right. He isn’t just a soul-crushing carnivore; he is a cannibal. A cannibal who feasts on hope and innocence until we’re all bled dry.
He’s bled me dry. He’s taken everything from me, and feasted on my heartache.
But he’ll never have the opportunity to do this again.
I silently vow that I will do whatever it takes to end him. It might take every drop of life and energy I’ve got left in me, but I will make sure he never breathes another breath. I will end him. I. Will. End. Him.
Who the hell cares if I die trying? He has already killed everything in me.
“Get in,” Brad says, opening his car door and shoving me down into the seat.
My body goes tumbling forward roughly, and I have to catch his gearshift to steady myself. Brad bends down slightly to study me as he reaches out to press his knife against my neck again.
“You left me,” he says in a tense voice.
I gaze into his wounded dark eyes. I know that speaking as little as possible is my best option in this situation. A thousand insults are sitting at the tip of my tongue and begging to be unleashed, but this simply isn’t the right time. I have to imagine that there are invisible iron bars bolted down over my lips.
“You were mine, Carmen,” he says softly, leaning so close that I can feel his breath against my face. “We were happy.”
I stare at him wordlessly, trying not to betray my hatred and my lethal intentions. If only Brad knew how much I despised him, I am sure he wouldn’t hesitate to sink that blade into my throat.
“Why?” Brad whispers. “Why did you go? I thought you loved me.”
Closing my eyes briefly, I let a few words tumble from my tongue. “I loved my husband. I loved my daughter. I loved my father. I never loved you.”
Brad flinches, and his hand wavers. I gasp as the knife slides against my neck. I hold my breath, expecting the worst.
A warm trickle of liquid tickles my skin as it trails down over my collarbone and between my breasts.
“Well,” Brad says quietly. “It’s rather convenient that they’re all gone. It looks like you have some love to spare. Give it to me, Carmen. All the love that you used to waste on them? It should be mine. I want your love, Carmen. I need it. I need you.”
The cut in my neck isn’t deep enough to kill me, but it’s frightening enough to make me clamp my mouth shut.
I shouldn’t have spoken.
I shouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my life; not until I’ve made sure that Brad can’t hurt anyone else. I just have to hold on a little longer. I just have to live long enough to make sure that he gets what he deserves.
Then I don’t care what happens to me.
I know that if I can just rid the world of Brad, I will be saving countless lives from his particular brand of cruelty. It’s all on me, now. No one else is ever going to do what it takes to get rid of him.
But there is very little I can accomplish while a madman has a knife pressed up against my jugular.